Part 39 (1/2)
”Oh, so that's what you call him? However, I'm asking you. You ought to know. I've seen you all over the lot, talking with everybody.”
”Ask Pharaoh!” repeated the Prophet, sonorously.
The helper nudged Bangs with a swift punch. ”If you feel like taking that advice, boss, here's your chance. There's Tasper Britt.”
The magnate of Egypt was revealed suddenly, coming from the direction of his new mansion. He strode past Elias. ”Ask Pharaoh!” advised the Prophet once more, and Britt halted. He came back a few steps and addressed the men on the tavern porch:
”Can't a man who is deputy warden of our state prison find something for amus.e.m.e.nt better than stirring up a lunatic?”
”I'm not trying to find amus.e.m.e.nt--not in this town,” returned Mr.
Bangs. ”I'm after information. He refers me to you--or so I take it!”
”What information?”
”There's something the trouble in this town and I'd like to know what it is.”
”There it is,” barked Britt, pointing to Elias. ”That's the princ.i.p.al trouble--a lunatic spreading lunacy like smallpox.”
”But what is it all about?” insisted Bangs, ”What's this new excitement?”
”I know nothing about any excitement, sir. I attend to business instead of gossip. If you can make it your business to take this pest to state prison, where he probably belongs if his record could be dug up, the town of Egypt will be all right again.”
”Pharaoh, I have a message of comfort for you,” stated the Prophet.
”This night do I depart from the land of Egypt. I go and I shall not return.”
For some moments Britt did not find words with which to reply. Then he mumbled something about good riddance and shaking the dust from the feet.
”I shall shake all the dust from my feet this side of the border line,”
said Elias. ”Your land of Egypt cannot spare any soil.”
”You are getting away just in time,” rasped the usurer. ”I have been tolerating you since you got back from jail because I've been too busy to tend to your case.”
”Ah!” commented Elias, mildly.
This subtle humility goaded Britt's wrath more effectually than the Prophet could have prevailed with resentful retort.
”The next time it wouldn't have been a bailable trespa.s.s case. Do you dare to tell me why you kept looking in at the windows of my house?”
”I was looking for the closet.”
”What closet?”
”For the closet where you keep the skeleton. But rest this night in peace, Pharaoh. I am going away.”
”I can sleep better for knowing that you are out of this town.”
”Then promise me that you will sleep to-night--sleep soundly. That thought will cheer me as I go on my way.” Britt started along, making no reply. ”I bespeak for you sleep without dreams,” the Prophet called after him. ”Your dreams, Pharaoh, might be colored with some of the realities--and that would be bad, very bad for your peace of mind.”
Once more Britt strode back from the vapors. ”Are you trying to provoke me to smash my fist into your face? Are you trying to cook up a blackmail damage suit by the advice of that crook lawyer who bailed you out? I'm beginning to see why a lawyer was enough interested in you to get you back into this town.”
”You guess shrewdly, Pharaoh. You have avoided the deep plot against your wealth. Let the thought make you sleep soundly to-night. I'm glad to make my confession and hope it will add to your peace of mind.”
Usial Britt had appeared in the door of his cottage; he leaned lazily against the jamb. ”It will be a fine night for sleeping,” he remarked, amiably. ”This fog is sort of relaxing to the nerves!”