Part 43 (2/2)
”I don't mean it that ways, Bud, but I can't break my promise t' Hermy--”
”She'd never know.”
”She'd find out some ways; she always does, and I can't lie t' her.”
”So you won't come, hey? We ain't cla.s.sy enough for ye these days, hey?
I guess goin' to an office every day is one thing an' crackin' a millionaire's crib's another.”
”Cheese it, Bud, cheese it!” gasped Spike, pale and trembling.
”Right-o, Kid!” nodded M'Ginnis, ”but I've been wantin' t' know how ye made your get-away that night.”
”Oh, quit--quit talkin' of it!” Spike panted. ”I--I want t' forget all about it. I been tryin' t' think it never happened.”
”Ah, but you know it did,” said M'Ginnis, ”an' I know it, an' Soapy knows it did--don't yer, Soapy?”
”'S' right!” nodded Soapy, his voice soft, his eyes hard and malevolent.
”So we kinder want t' know,” continued M'Ginnis, heedless always of those baleful watching eyes, ”we just want t' get on t' how you--”
”Oh, say--give it a rest!” cried Spike desperately. ”Give it a rest, can't ye?”
”Why, then, Kid, what about comin' over t' O'Rourke's t'night?”
Spike wrung his hands. ”If Hermy finds out, she'll--cry, I guess--”
”Hermy!” growled M'Ginnis, black brows fierce and scowling, ”a h.e.l.l of a lot you care for Hermy, I--don't think!”
”Say now, you Bud, whatcher mean?” demanded Spike, quivering with sudden anger.
”Just this, Kid--what kind of a brother are ye t' go lettin' that noo pal o' yours--that guy you call Geoff--go sneaking round her morning, noon, an' night?”
”You cut that out, Bud M'Ginnis. Geoff don't! Geoff ain't that kind.”
”He don't, eh? Well, what about all this talk that's goin' on--about him an' her, an' her an' him--eh?”
”What talk?” demanded Spike, suddenly troubled.
”Why, every one's beginnin' t' notice as they're always meetin' on th'
stairs--an' him goin' into her flat, an' them talkin' an' laughin'
together when you're out o' th' way--ah,” growled M'Ginnis, between grinding white teeth, ”an' likely as not kissin' an' squeezin' in corners--”
”That's enough--that's enough!” cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis, fierce-eyed. ”n.o.body ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way.”
”Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours--been with her--in her flat with her, all th' mornin'--ain't he, Soapy?”
”'S' right, Kid!” nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered.
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