Part 2 (1/2)
”Ye can't tell me that ye ain't goin' never to get married, Lem?”
Crabbe lifted his hooked arm viciously. ”I ain't said nothin' like that.
I says as how Scraggy can keep away from my scow.”
”Don't she never come here no more?” asked Eli in disbelief.
”Nope, not after them three beatin's I give her. She kept a comin', and I had to wallop her. I'd do it again if she snoops 'bout here.”
”Ye beat her up well, didn't ye, Lem? And she telled Mammy that yer brat were drowned one night in the river. Were it, Lem?”
There was an expectant pause between his first and last questions, and Lem waited almost as long before he grunted:
”Yep.”
”Did ye throw it in when ye was drunk?”
”Nope, he jest fell in--that's all.”
”I guess that last beatin' ye give Scraggy made her batty. Mam says that she ain't no more sense than her cat.”
”Let her keep to hum then, and she won't get beat. I don't do no runnin'
after her!”
Again there came a s.p.a.ce of time during which Eli and Lem worked in silence. From far away in the city there came the sound of the fire whistle, followed by the ringing of bells. But not one of the men ceased his clipping to satisfy any curiosity he might have had.
Suddenly Lem Crabbe spoke louder than he had before that evening.
”Women ain't no good, nohow! They don't love no men, and men don't love them. What's the good of havin' 'em round to feed and to bother a feller 'bout drinkin' an' things? Less a man sees of 'em the better!”
The third man, Silent Lon Cronk, sunk lower at his work, even more fiercely flattening the gemless rings under the pressers. After a few moments he laid down his tools and began to stretch his long legs, sc.r.a.ping into a cup the bits of gold from his lap.
”I've been goin' to ask ye fellers somethin' for a long time. Might as well now as any other night, eh?”
”Yep,” replied Eli eagerly.
”'Tain't nothin' that will take any money out yer pockets; 'twill put it in, more likely. We've been stealin' together for how long, Lem? How long we been pals?”
”Nigh onto ten years, I'm thinkin'. It were that year that Tilly Jacobson got burned, weren't it?”
”Yep, for ten years,” replied Lon, ignoring Lem's last query, ”and we've allers been hones' with each other. I've been hones' with both of ye, and ye've been hones' with me. Eh?”
”Yep.”
”Lem, do ye want all the swag in this here room, only a sharin' up with Eli, without havin' to share and share alike with me?”
A small jewel bounded from the steel hook, and the pliers fell from Lem's fingers. Eli dropped back upon his bare feet.
”What's in the wind?” demanded Lem.