Part 22 (1/2)

”Dearie,” she says, tucking in a imaginary curl. ”Dear, Johnnie here was over to my flat and we got speaking of you by accident, and he's anxious to know where's the money he gave you, and why no decorations as was intended?”

”Yes, Miss La Tour,” says the old bird, which it was plain she had made a even more perfect fool of him than he had been before. ”Yes, Miss La Tour, it's a serious thing,” he says. ”I understand you didn't really call even one meeting and as for decorations--!! Well, what can you tell us?”

Well, I told him how I come to think of what I thought of, and the jobs which I had 319 of and the notes and all, and while I talked I could see plain enough that I was getting in worse every minute, because they had come determined to find me guilty, and no matter what I said, it would of listened queer with them two pairs of gla.s.sy eyes on me.

”I had a hunch,” I wound up, ”that maybe something a little substantial would be welcome,” I says, ”because after all a person can't live on plaster arches and paper flowers, and three hundred and nineteen jobs ought to take care of a considerable percent of the ones that need it,”

I says. ”And so while your arches are all right,” I says, ”you must admit they are princ.i.p.ally for show.”

When I got through Mr. Mulvaney cleared his throat and didn't seem to know just how to go on; but Ruby give him an eye, and so he cleared his throat again and changed back to her side.

”This is all _most_ irregular,” he says very dignified. ”Most irregular.

You will certainly have to appear before the general committee and give them an accounting. What you have done amounts to a misuse of public-funds!”

My Gawd, I nearly fainted at that! But before I could say a word a voice spoke up from the doorway.

”Like h.e.l.l it does!” says Jim, which that dear kid had left himself in with his key and listened to the whole business. ”Like h.e.l.l it's a misuse!” he says, coming into the room and putting his arm around me.

”You just let the public and the soldiers take their choice! Give all the facts to all the newspapers and we will furnish the photographs free! Go to it! Get busy! And--get out!”

Well, they got, and what happened then I will not go into because there are things even a self-centered woman won't put on paper! Poor Jim, and him back in camp to get deloused and demobilized and his tooth-brush, and a few parting words of appreciation and etc, these past 48 hours which it seems is the rule for all soldiers, and I suppose they did need the rest after that parade before taking up domestic life once more.

Well, anyways, that afternoon late, while him and me was thoroughly enjoying our joint contract and the Sunday spreads with our pictures and all, in walks Ma with her hat and dolman on and a suit-case in one hand, and 'Frisco, the he-snake in his box, in the other hand.

”For the love of Mike, Ma Gilligan, where are you going to?” I says, looking at her idly.

”I'm leaving you forever!” says Ma, in a deep voice.

”Leaving us? Whatter you mean, leaving us?” I says, taking notice and my head off Jim's shoulder.

”I'm going back to work,” says Ma. ”I'm not going to be dependent on you no longer,” she says, ”nor a burden in my old age,” she says. ”And now that you got Jim back I shall only be in the way, so good-by, Gawd bless you!”

”Why, Ma Gilligan!” I yells, jumping to my feet. ”How you talk! Besides what on earth do you think you could do?”

”Oh, I got a job,” she flashes, proudly. ”I'm going back to the circus!”

Believe you me, that pretty near had me floored.