merton of the movies-第37章
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the load the mattress on which he had lain for three nights and the blankets that had warmed him。 But he was proved not to be so helpless as he had thought。 Again he knew where a good night's rest might be had by one using ordinary discretion。
Again that day； the fourth of his double life； he went the mad pace； a well…fed； carefree youth； sauntering idly from stage to stage； regarding nonchalantly the joys and griefs； the twistings of human destiny there variously unfolded。 Not only was he this to the casual public notice； to himself he was this； at least consciously。 True； in those nether regions of the mind so lately discovered and now being so expertly probed by Science； in the mind's dark basement； so to say； a certain unlovely fronted dragon of reality would issue from the gloom where it seemed to have been lurking and force itself upon his notice。
This would be at oddly contented moments when he least feared the future； when he was most successfully being to himself all that he must seem to others。 At such times when he leisurely walked a world of plenty and fruition； the dragon would half…emerge from its subconscious lair to chill him with its head composed entirely of repellent facts。 Then a stout effort would be required to send the thing back where it belonged； to those lower； decently hidden levels of the mindlife。
And the dragon was cunning。 From hour to hour； growing more restive； it employed devices of craft and subtlety。 As when Merton Gill； carefree to the best of his knowledge； strolling lightly to another point of interest； graciously receptive to the pleasant life about him； would suddenly discover that a part of his mind without superintendence had for some moments been composing a letter； something that ran in effect：
〃Mr。 Gashwiler； dear sir； I have made certain changes in my plans since I first came to sunny California and getting quite a little homesick for good old Simsbury and I thought I would write you about taking back my old job in the emporium； and now about the money for the ticket back to Simsbury； the railroad fare is〃
He was truly amazed when he found this sort of thing going on in that part of his mind he didn't watch。 It was scandalous。 He would indignantly snatch the half…finished letter and tear it up each time he found it unaccountably under way。
It was surely funny the way your mind would keep doing things you didn't want it to do。 As； again； this very morning when； with his silver coin out in his hand； he had merely wished to regard it as a great deal of silver coin； a store of plenty against famine； which indeed it looked to be under a not…too…minute scrutiny。 It looked like as much as two dollars and fifty cents； and he would have preferred to pocket it again with this impression。 Yet that rebellious other part of his mind had basely counted the coin even while he eyed it approvingly； and it had persisted in shouting aloud that it was not two dollars and fifty cents but one dollar and eightyfive cents。
The counting part of the mind made no comment on this discrepancy； it did not say that this discovery put things in a very different light。 It merely counted； registered the result； and ceased to function； with an air of saying that it would ascertain the facts without prejudice and you could do what you liked about them。 It didn't care。
That night a solitary guest enjoyed the quiet hospitality of the Crystal Palace Hotel。 He might have been seenbut was notto effect a late evening entrance to this snug inn by means of a front window which had； it would seem； at some earlier hour of the day； been unfastened from within。 Here a not…too…luxurious but sufficing bed was contrived on the floor of the lobby from a pile of neatly folded blankets at hand； and a second night's repose was enjoyed by the lonely patron； who again at an early hour of the morning； after thoughtfully refolding the blankets that had protected him； was at some pains to leave the place as he had entered it without attracting public notice； perchance of unpleasant character。
On this day it would not have been possible for any part of the mind whatsoever to misvalue the remaining treasure of silver coin。 It had become inconsiderable； and even if kept from view could be； and was； counted again and again by mere blind fingertips。 They contracted； indeed； a senseless habit of confining themselves in a trouser's pocket to count the half…dollar； the quarter； and the two dimes long after the total was too well known to its owner。
Nor did this total； unimpressive at best； long retain even these poor dimensions。 A visit to the cafeteria； in response to the imperious demands of a familiar organic process； resulted in less labour； by two dimes； for the stubbornly reiterative fingertips。
An ensuing visit to the Holden lot barber； in obedience to social demands construed to be equally imperious with the physical； reduced all subsequent counting； whether by fingertips or a glance of the eye； to barest mechanical routine。 A single half…dollar is easy to count。 Still； on the following morning there were two coins to count。 True； both were dimes。
A diligent search among the miscellany of the Crystal Palace Hotel had failed to reveal a single razor。 The razor used by the miner should in all reason have been found； but there was neither that nor any other。 The baffled seeker believed there must have been crooked work somewhere。 Without hesitation he found either Jimmie or his companion to be guilty of malfeasance in office。 But at least one item of more or less worried debate was eliminated。 He need no longer weigh mere surface gentility against the stern demands of an active metabolism。 A shave cost a quarter。 Twenty cents would not buy a shave； but it would buy at the cafeteria something more needful to any one but a fop。
He saw himself in the days to comeif there were very many days to come； of which he was now not too certaindescending to the unwholesome artistic level of the elder Montague。 He would； in short； be compelled to peddle the brush。 And of course as yet it was nothing like a brushnothing to kindle the eye of a director needing genuine brushes。 In the early morning light he fingered a somewhat gaunt chin and wondered how long 〃they〃 would require to grow。 Not yet could he be taken for one of those actors compelled by the rigorous exactions of creative screen art to let Nature have its course with his beard。 At present he merely needed a shave。
And the collar had not improved with usage。 Also； as the day wore on； coffee with one egg proved to have been not long…enduring fare for this private in the army of the unemployed。 Still； his morale was but slightly impaired。 There were always ways； it seemed。 And the later hours of the hungry afternoon were rather pleasantly occupied in dwelling upon one of them。
The sole guest of the Crystal Palace Hotel entered the hostelry that night somewhat earlier than was usual； indeed at the very earliest moment that foot traffic through the narrow street seemed to have diminished to a point where the entry could be effected without incurring the public notice which he at these moments so sincerely shunned。 After a brief interval inside the lobby he issued from his window with certain objects in hand； one of which dropped as he clambered out。 The resulting clamour seemed to rouse far echoes along the dead street； and he hastily withdrew； with a smothered exclamation of dismay； about the nearest corner of the building until it could be ascertained that echoes alone had been aroused。
After a little breathless waiting he slunk down the street； keeping well within friendly shadows； stepping softly； until he reached the humble cabin where so lately the honest miners had enacted their heart…tragedy。 He jerked the latch…string of the door and was swiftly inside； groping a way to the fireplace。 Here he lighted matches； thoughtfully appropriated that morning from the cafeteria counter。 He shielded the blaze with one hand while with the other he put to use the articles he had brought from his hotel。
Into a tin cooking pot with a long handle he now hastily ladled well…cooked beans from the discarded heap in the fireplace； by means of an iron spoon。 He was not too
