Part 8 (1/2)
”No, sir--by a winder.”
”A--wot?”
”A winder, sir.”
”A--winder? 'Eavens and earth--a winder--ow? Where? Wot for?”
”Say, mister,” said Spike, breaking in upon Mr. Brimberly's astounded questioning, ”is he nutty?” And he jerked his thumb toward the door through which Mr. Ravenslee had gone.
”Nutty!” said Mr. Brimberly, staring.
”Yes--I mean is he batty? Has he got wheels?”
”W'eels?” said Mr. Brimberly, his eyes rounder than usual.
”Well, then, is he daffy?--off his trolley?”
”Off 'is wot?” said Mr. Brimberly, fumbling for his whisker.
”Holy Gee!” exclaimed Spike, ”can't you understand English? Say, is your brother as smart as you?”
”The honly brother as ever I 'ad was a infant as died and--but wot was you saying about a winder?”
”Nothin'!”
”Come, speak up, you young vagabone--” began Mr. Brimberly, his whiskers suddenly fierce and threatening, but just then, fortunately for Spike, the door swung, open, and Mr. Ravenslee entered.
And lo! what a change was here! The battered hat, the faded m.u.f.fler and shabby clothes seemed only to show off all the hitherto hidden strength and vigour of the powerful limbs below; indeed it almost seemed that with his elegant garments he had laid aside his la.s.situde also and taken on a new air of resolution, for his eyes were sleepy no longer, and his every gesture was lithe and quick. So great was the change that Spike stared speechless, and Mr. Brimberly gaped with whiskers a-droop.
”Well, shall I do?” enquired Mr. Ravenslee, tightening his faded neckerchief.
”Do?” repeated Spike, ”say--you look all to d' mustard, Geoff! You--you look as if you could--do things, now!”
”Strangely enough, Spike, I rather feel that way too!” So saying, Mr.
Ravenslee took a pipe from the rack, filled it with quick, energetic fingers, and proceeded to light it, watched in dumb amaze by the gaping Brimberly.
”Brimberly,” said he, ”I shall probably return to-morrow.”
”Yes, sir,” said he faintly.
”Or the day after.”
”Yes, sir!”
”Or the day after.”
”Yes, sir!”