Part 39 (1/2)
”Before we part, my friend, tell me where you live.”
”Away over in the poorest part o' Twinty-sivinth Street, sorr.”
”And how old is your grandson?”
”He'll be eleven next birthday.”
”Is he seriously injured?”
Then tears came into the old man's eyes. For once his splendid courage wavered.
”They wouldn't tell me at the hospital, an' that's the truth, sorr; but a polisman who helped to pull him from undher the wagon said he thought he had escaped the worrst.”
”Are you and Jimmy known to any of the priests at the cathedral?”
”Sure, sorr, don't they all know us? I remimber Canon M'Evoy comin'
there twinty-foive years ago.”
”And now, Rafferty, as one friend to another, will you let me help you?”
”Musha, an' is it beggin' you think I am?” and a gleam of Celtic fire shone through the mist of anguish.
”No. But you have given me good counsel tonight, and I am minded to pay for it.”
”Faith, I haven't said a worrd that isn't plain for all min, an' women, too, to read, if they have a moind to look for it in the right place.”
”Sometimes one needs reminding of that, and you have done it. Come, now.
Let me finance you with a few dollars, just to carry you along till Jimmy is around again.”
Rafferty drew a knotted hand across his eyes, and then peered keenly into Power's face. What he saw there seemed to rea.s.sure him.
”Well, an' it's me that's the lucky man, an' no mistake!” he cried, while whole-hearted joy seemed to make him young again. ”I'll take your help in the spirit it's offered in, sorr. If the situation was reva.r.s.ed, I'd do what I could for you, because you have the look av a man who'd do unto others that which he wants others to do unto him. An', by that same token, I've as much chance av gettin' Jimmy's stand wid the papers as I have av bein' run for Prisident av the United States next fall.”
Power took a folded note from his pocketbook.
”Put that where the cat can't get it,” he said. ”And now goodby, and thank you.”
But something unusual in the aspect of the note caused Rafferty to open it.
”Sure, an' you were nearly committin' a terrible blundher!” he cried excitedly. ”This is a hundred dollars, sorr, an' you'd be m'anin', mebbe, to give me a foive.”
”No. Don't be vexed with me, but that amount of money will make things easy during the next month or so.”
”The next month! Glory be to G.o.d, I can live like a prince for three months, on a hundred dollars!”
”I firmly believe that you will live better than most princes.... That's right. Stow it away carefully, and don't forget that I am still your debtor.”
”Why, sorr, I can nivver repay you as long as I live.”
”Oh, yes, you can. Remember me when you go to the cathedral tomorrow.”