Part 14 (2/2)

”Against the rules, isn't it?” persisted Armitage, much to Ryan's evident embarra.s.sment, who, however, nodded again.

The older boy took his cigarette from his mouth and rising, walked a few steps toward the new chauffeur. He was a slender stripling with high forehead, long, straight nose, and a face chiefly marked by an imperious expression. In his flannels and flapping Panama hat he was a reduced copy of such Englishmen as Armitage had seen lounging in the boxes at Ascot or about the paddock at Auteuil.

”Were you speaking of us, my man?” he said.

A gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt crossed Armitage's face.

”I--I believe I was, my boy. Why?”

A corner of the youth's upper lip curled and snapping the half-burnt cigarette into a corner he took another from the case and lighted it.

”Oh,” he said nodding, ”you are the new man. Impertinence is not a good beginning. I 'm afraid you won't last.”

Armitage crossed quickly to the discarded cigarette which was smouldering near a little pool of gasoline under a large can of that dangerous fluid, and rubbed the fire out with his foot. Returning, he confronted the boy, standing very close to him.

”Look here, son,” he said quietly, ”that won't do a bit, you know.

It's against the rules, and besides,” jerking his head in the direction of the gasoline can, ”you have n't any sense.”

Ronald's emotions were beyond the power of words to relieve. As he stood glaring at Armitage, his face devoid of color, his eyes green with anger, the chauffeur placed his hand gently upon his arm.

”You can't smoke here, I tell you. There 's a notice over there to that effect signed by your father. Now throw that cigarette away; or go out of here with it, as you like.”

By way of reply, Ronald jerked his arm from Armitage's grasp and swung at his face with open hand. It was a venomous slap, but it did not come within a foot of the mark for the reason that Jack deftly caught the flailing arm by the wrist and with a powerful twist brought young Wellington almost to his knees through sheer pain of the straining tendons. As this happened, the younger brother with a shrill cry of rage launched himself at Armitage, who caught him by the waist and swung him easily up into the tonneau of the touring car.

Ronald had risen to his feet and in cold pa.s.sion was casting his eye about the garage. A heavy wrench lay on the floor; he stepped towards it, but not too quickly for Armitage to interpose. Slowly the latter raised his finger until it was on a level with the boy's face.

”Now, stop just a minute and think,” he said. ”I like your spirit, and yours, too, kid,” he added, gazing up at the tonneau from which the younger Wellington was glaring down like a bellicose young tiger, ”but this won't go at all. Now wait,” as Ronald tried to brush past. ”In the first place, if your mother hears you have been smoking in the garage--or anywhere else--you 'll get into trouble with her, so Ryan has told me. And I don't believe that's any fun. . . . Now--listen, will you? I am employed here as physical instructor for you chaps, not as a chauffeur--although your sister has been good enough to press me into service for a day or two--and I imagine I 'm going to draw pay for making you into something else than thin-chested cigarette fiends. I can do it, if you 'll help. How about it?” he said, smiling at Ronald.

”Will you be friends?”

Ronald, who had worked out of his pa.s.sion, sniffed.

”Thank you, I had rather not, if you don't mind. I think you will find that you don't like your place.”

”Well,” said Armitage affably, ”then I can leave, you know.”

”Yes, you can, all right; it 'll be sooner than you think. Come on, Muck,” and the older brother turned and left the garage.

Muck, who for the past few seconds had been gazing at Armitage with wide eyes, slipped down from the car and stood in front of him.

”Say,” he exclaimed, ”you 're the fellow I gave that note to in church--the one from my sister--are n't you?”

He grinned as Armitage looked at him dumbly.

”Don't be afraid,” he said. ”I shan't tell. Sister gave me a five-dollar gold piece. I thought you did n't act like a chauffeur.

Say, show me that grip you got on Ronie, will you? He has been too fresh lately,--I want to spring it on him. Can I learn it?”

”Not that one.” Armitage took the boy's hand, his thumb pressing back of the second knuckle, his fingers on the palm. He twisted backward and upward gently. ”There 's one that's better, though, and easier.

See? Not that way,” as the boy seized his hand. ”Press here. That's right. Now you 've got it. You can make your brother eat out of your hand.”

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