Part 68 (2/2)
”Kind o' looks that way!” nodded M'Ginnis, and filling Spike's gla.s.s, he put it into the boy's unwilling fingers. ”Take a drink, Kid; ye sure need it!” said he.
”'S right,” murmured Soapy, ”told ye Bud 'ud comfort ye, didn't I, Kid?”
”So Hermy's drove ye away?” said M'Ginnis, ”throwed ye out--eh?”
”She sure has, Bud, an' I--Oh, I'm miserable as h.e.l.l!”
”Why, then, get some o' Bud's comfort into ye, Kid,” murmured Soapy.
”Lap it up good, Kid; there's plenty more--in th' bottle!”
”Let him alone,” growled M'Ginnis, ”he don't want you b.u.t.tin' in!”
”'S right, too, Bud!” nodded Soapy, ”he's got you, ain't he? An'
you--got him, ain't you?”
”I didn't think Hermy 'ud ever treat me--like this!” said Spike tearfully.
”You mean--throwin' ye out into th' streets, Kid? Why, I been expectin'
it!”
”Expectin' it?” repeated Spike, setting down his gla.s.s and staring, ”why?”
”Well, she's a girl, ain't she, an' they're all th' same, I reckon--”
”An' Bud knows all about girls, Kid!” murmured Soapy. ”Bud's wise t' all their tricks--ain't you, Bud?”
”But whatcher mean?” cried Spike. ”What ye mean about expectin' it?”
”Well, she don't want ye no more, does she?” answered M'Ginnis, his bruised hands fierce clenched, his voice hoa.r.s.e and thick with pa.s.sion.
”She's got some one else now--ain't she? She's--in love--ain't she?
She's all waked up an' palpitatin' for--for that dam'--” he choked, and set one hand to his scratched throat.
”What d'ye mean, Bud?”
”Ah!” said Soapy, softer than before, ”I'm on, Bud; you put me wise! He means, Kid, as Hermy's in love with th' guy as has just been punchin'
h.e.l.l out of him--he means your pal Geoff.” With a hoa.r.s.e, strangling cry, M'Ginnis leapt up, his hand flashed behind him, and--he stood suddenly very still, staring into the muzzle of the weapon Soapy had levelled from his hip.
”Aw, quit it, Bud, quit it,” he sighed, ”it ain't come t' that--yet.
Besides, the Kid's here, so loose ye gun, Bud. No, give it t'me; you're a bit on edge t'night, I guess, an' it might go off an' break a gla.s.s or somethin'. So gimme ye gun, Bud. That's it! Now we can sit an' talk real sociable, can't we? Now listen, Bud--what you want is t' get your own back on this guy Geoff, an' what th' Kid wants is t' show his sister as he ain't a kid, an' what I want is t' give ye both a helpin' hand--”
But while M'Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door.
”I'll be gettin' on me way, Bud,” said he.
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