Part 18 (2/2)

”Been ready all day,” he replied, with a laugh. ”It 's been pretty slow.”

”'Ain't made much out, then, seeing the sights of this little village of ours? Well, we 'll do better to-night, if the people don't see that black tie of yours and take you for a preacher getting facts for a crusade.”

Brent blushed and bit his lip, but he only said, ”I 'll go up and change it while you 're finis.h.i.+ng your supper.”

”Guess you 'd better, or some one will be asking you for a sermon.”

Perkins laughed good-naturedly, but he did not know how his words went home to his companion's sensitive feelings. He thought that his haste in leaving the room and his evident confusion were only the evidence of a greenhorn's embarra.s.sment under raillery. He really had no idea that his comrade's tie was the badge of his despised calling.

Brent was down again in a few minutes, a grey cravat having superseded the offending black. But even now, as he compared himself with his guide, he appeared sombre and ascetic. His black Prince Albert coat showed up gloomy and oppressive against young Perkins's natty drab cutaway relieved by a das.h.i.+ng red tie. From head to foot the little clerk was light and dapper; and as they moved along the crowded streets the preacher felt much as a conscious omnibus would feel beside a pneumatic-tired sulky.

”You can talk all you want to about your Chicago,” Perkins was rattling on, ”but you can bet your life Cincinnati 's the greatest town in the West. Chicago 's nothing but a big overgrown country town. Everything looks new and flimsy there to a fellow, but here you get something that 's solid. Chicago 's pretty swift, too, but there ain't no flies on us, either, when it comes to the go.”

Brent thought with dismay how much his companion knew, and felt a pa.s.sing bitterness that he, though older, had seen none of these things.

”Ever been in Chicago?” asked Perkins; ”but of course you have n't.”

This was uttered in such a tone of conviction that the minister thought his greenness must be very apparent.

”I 've never been around much of anywhere,” he said. ”I 've been hard at work all my life.”

”Eh, that so? You don't look like you 'd done much hard work. What do you do?”

”I--I--ah--write,” was the confused answer.

Perkins, fortunately, did not notice the confusion. ”Oh, ho!” he said: ”do you go in for newspaper work?”

”No, not for newspapers.”

”Oh, you 're an author, a regular out-and-outer. Well, don't you know, I thought you were somehow different from most fellows I 've met. I never could see how you authors could stay away in small towns, where you hardly ever see any one, and write about people as you do; but I suppose you get your people from books.”

”No, not entirely,” replied Brent, letting the mistake go. ”There are plenty of interesting characters in a small town. Its life is just what the life of a larger city is, only the scale is smaller.”

”Well, if you 're on a search for characters, you 'll see some to-night that 'll be worth putting in your note-book. We 'll stop here first.”

The place before which they had stopped was surrounded by a high vine-covered lattice fence: over the entrance flamed forth in letters set with gas-lights the words ”Meyer's Beer-Garden and Variety Hall.

Welcome.” He could hear the sound of music within,--a miserable orchestra, and a woman singing in a high strident voice. People were pa.s.sing in and out of the place. He hesitated, and then, shaking himself, as if to shake off his scruples, turned towards the entrance.

As he reached the door, a man who was standing beside it thrust a paper into his hand. He saw others refuse to take it as they pa.s.sed. It was only the announcement of a temperance meeting at a neighbouring hall. He raised his eyes to find the gaze of the man riveted upon him.

”Don't you go in there, young man,” he said. ”You don't look like you was used to this life. Come away. Remember, it 's the first step--”

”Chuck him,” said Perkins's voice at his elbow. But something in the man's face held him. A happy thought struck him. He turned to his companion and said, in a low voice, ”I think I 've found a character here already. Will you excuse me for a while?”

”Certainly. Business before pleasure. Pump him all you can, and then come in. You 'll find me at one of the tables on the farther side.”

Perkins pa.s.sed on.

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