Part 29 (1/2)
”Oh, 'bout so-so. You rather got ahead o' me t'night, didn't yeh?”
”Well, rather. The man that gets ahead o' me has got t' drive a good team, eh?” He looked at Bettie.
”I'd like to try it,” said Bill.
”Well, let's go across the road,” said Milton to Bettie, anxious to get her out of the way of Bill.
They had to run the gauntlet of the whooping boys outside, but Bettie proved too fleet of foot for them all.
When they entered the Dudley house opposite, her cheeks were hot with color, but the roguish gleam in her eyes changed to a curiously haughty and disdainful look as she pa.s.sed Blackler, who stood desolately beside the door, looking awkward and sullen.
Milton was a great favorite, and he had no time to say anything more to Bettie as peace-maker. He reached Ed as soon as possible.
”Ed, what's up between you and Bettie?”
”Oh, I don't know. I can't find out,” Blackler replied, and he spurred himself desperately into the fun.
III.
”It'll make Ed Blackler squirm t' see Betsey come in on Milt Jennings'
arm,” said Bill to Shephard after Milton went out.
”Wal, chuss. I denk it will.” Shephard was looking round the room, where the old people were noisily eating supper, and the steaming oysters and the cold chicken's savory smell went to his heart. One of the motherly managers of the feast bustled up to him.
”Shephard, you c'n run over t' the house an' tell the young folks that they can come over t' supper about eight o'clock; that'll be in a half an hour. You understand?”
”Oh, I'm so hungry! Can't y' give me a hunk o' chicken t' stay m'
stomach?”
Mrs. Councill laughed. ”I'll fish you out a drumstick,” she said. And he went away, gnawing upon it hungrily. Bill went with him, still belching forth against Blackler.
”Jim said he heard _he_ said he'd slap my face f'r a cent. I wish he would. I'd lick the life out of 'im in a minnit.”
”Why don't you pitch into Milt? He's got her now. He's the one y'd orto be dammin'.”
”Oh, he don't mean nothin' by it. He don't care for her. I saw him down to town at the show with the girl he's after. He's jest makin' Ed mad.”
A game of ”Copenhagen” was going on as they entered. Bettie was in the midst of it, but Milton, in the corner, was looking on and talking with a group of those who had outgrown such games.
The ring of noisy, flushed and laughter-intoxicated young people filled the room nearly to the wall, and round and round the ring flew Bettie, pursued by Joe Yohe.
”Go it, Joe!” yelled Bill.
”You're good f'r'im,” yelled Shephard.
Milton laughed and clapped his hands. ”Hot foot, Bettie!”