the drums of jeopardy-第32章

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Somehow　this　picture　lightened　the　depression。

〃My　fingers　are　stiff；〃　said　Hawksley。　　〃My　hand　is　tired。　　I　should
like　to　be　alone。〃　　He　lay　back　rather　inertly。

In　the　corridor　Cutty　whispered　to　the　dealer：　〃What　do　you　think
of　him？〃

〃As　he　says；　his　touch　shows　a　little　stiffness；　but　the　wonderful
fire　is　there。　　He's　an　amateur；　but　a　fine　one。　　Practice　will
bring　him　to　a　finish　in　no　time。　　But　I　never　heard　an　Englishman
play　a　violin　like　that　before。〃

〃Nor　I；〃　Cutty　agreed。　　〃When　the　owner　sends　for　that　fiddle　let
me　know。　　Mr。　Hawksley　might　like　to　dicker　for　it。　　If　you　know
where　the　owner　is　you　might　cable　that　you　have　an　offer　of　twelve
thousand。〃

〃I'm　sorry；　but　I　haven't　the　least　idea　where　the　owner　is。　　However；
there　is　an　understanding　that　if　the　loan　isn't　covered　in　eighteen
months　the　instrument　becomes　salable　for　my　own　protection。　　There
is　a　year　still　to　run。〃

Four　o'clock　found　Cutty　pacing　his　study；　the　room　blue　with　smoke。
Of　all　the　queer　chaps　he　had　met　in　his　varied　career　this　Two…Hawks
topped　the　lot。　　The　constant　internal　turmoil　that　must　be　going　on；
the　instincts　of　the　blood　…　artist　and　autocrat！　　And　in　the　end；
the　owner　of　a　cattle　ranch；　if　he　had　the　luck　to　get　there　alive！
Dizzy　old　world。

Something　else　happened　at　four　o'clock。　　A　policeman　strolled　into
Eightieth　Street。　　He　was　at　peace　with　the　world。　　Spring　was　in
his　whistle；　in　his　stride；　in　the　twirl　of　his　baton。　　Whenever
he　passed　a　shop　window　he　made　it　serve　as　a　mirror。　　No　waistline
yet　…　a　comforting　thought。

Children　swarmed　the　street　and　gathered　at　corners。　　The　older　ones
played　boldly　in　midstreet；　while　the　toddlers　invented　games　that
kept　them　to　the　sidewalk　and　curb。　　The　policeman　came　stealthily
upon　one　of　these　latter　groups　…　Italians。　　At　the　sight　of　his
brass　buttons　they　fled　precipitately。　　He　laughed。　　Once　in　a　month
of　moons　he　was　able　to　get　near　enough　to　touch　them。　　Natural。
Hadn't　he　himself　hiked　in　the　old　days　at　the　sight　of　a　copper？
Sure；　he　had。

A　bit　of　colour　on　the　sidewalk　attracted　his　eye；　and　he　picked　up
the　object。　　Something　those　kids　had　been　playing　with。　　A　bit　of
red　glass　out　of　a　piece　of　cheap　jewellery。　　Not　half　bad　for　a
fake。　　He　would　put　one　over　on　Maggie　when　he　turned　in　for　supper。
Certainly　this　was　the　age　of　imitation。　　You　couldn't　buy　a　brass
button　with　any　confidence。　　He　put　the　trinket　in　his　pocket　and
continued　on；　soon　to　forget　it。

At　six　he　was　off　duty。　　As　he　was　leaving　the　precinct　the　desk
sergeant　called　him　back。

〃Got　change　for　a　dollar；　an'　I'll　settle　that　pinochle　debt；〃
offered　the　sergeant。

〃I'll　take　a　look。〃　The　policeman　emptied　his　coin　pocket。

〃What's　that　yuh　got　there？〃

〃Which？〃

〃The　red　stone？〃

〃Oh；　that？　　Picked　it　up　on　the　sidewalk。　　Some　Italian　kids　dropped
it　as　they　skedaddled。〃

〃Let's　have　a　look。〃

〃Sure。〃　The　policeman　passed　over　the　stone。

〃Gee！　　That　looks　like　real　money。　　Say；　they　can　do　anything　with
glass　these　days。〃

〃They　sure　can。

A　man　in　civilian　clothes　…　a　detective　from　headquarters　…　went　up
to　the　desk。　　〃What　you　guys　got　there？〃

〃A　ruby　this　boob　picks　up　off'n　the　sidewalk；〃　said　the　sergeant；
winking　at　the　finder；　who　grinned。

〃Let's　have　a　squint　at　it。〃

The　stone　was　handed　to　him。　　The　detective　stared　at　it　carefully；
holding　it　on　his　palm　and　rocking　it　gently　under　the　desk　light。
Crimson　darts　of　flame　answered　to　this　treatment。　　He　pushed　back
his　hat。

〃Well；　you　boobs！〃　he　drawled。

〃What's　the　matter？〃

〃Matter？　　Why；　this　is　a　ruby！　　A　whale　of　a　ruby；　an'　pigeon　blood
at　that！　　I　didn't　work　in　the'　appraiser's　office　for　nothing。　　But
for　a　broken　point　…　kids　probably　tried　to　crack　it　…　it　would
stack　up　somewhere　between　three　and　four　thousand　dollars！〃

The　sergeant　and　the　policemen　barked　simultaneously：　〃What？〃

〃A　pigeon　blood。　　Where　was　it　you　found　it？〃

〃Holy　Moses！　　On　Eightieth。〃

〃Any　chance　of　finding　that　bunch　of　kids？〃

〃Not　a　chance；　not　a　chance！　　If　I　got　the　hull　district　here　there
wouldn't　be　nothin'　doin'。　　The　kids'd　be　too　scared　t'　remember
anything。　　A　pigeon…blood　ruby；　an'　I　wasn't　gonna　pick　it　up　at
first！〃

〃Lock　it　up；　sergeant；〃　ordered　the　detective。　　〃I'll　pass　the　word
to　headquarters。　　Too　big　for　a　ring。　　Probably　fallen　from　a　pin。
But　there'll　be　a　holler　in　a　few　hours。　　Lost　or　stolen；　there'll
be　some　big　noise。　　You　two　boobs！〃

〃Well；　whadda　yuh　know　about　that？〃　whined　the　policeman。　　〃An'　me
thinkin'　it　was　glass！〃

But　there　was　no　big　noise。　　No　one　had　reported　the　loss　or　theft
of　a　pigeon…blood　ruby　of　unusual　size　and　quality。



CHAPTER　XIX


Kitty　came　home　at　nine　that　night；　dreadfully　tired。　　She　had　that
day　been　rocked　by　so　many　emotions。　　She　had　viewed　the　parade　from
the　windows　of　a　theatrical　agency；　and　she　had　cheered　and　cried
like　everybody　else。　　Her　eyes　still　smarted；　and　her　throat　betrayed
her　every　time　she　recalled　what　she　had　seen。　　Those　boys！

Loneliness。　　She　had　dined　downtown；　and　on　the　way　home　the　shadow
had　stalked　beside　her。　　Loneliness。　　Never　before　had　these　rooms
seemed　so　empty；　empty。　　If　God　had　only　given　her　a　brother　and　he
had　marched　in　that　glorious　parade；　what　fun　they　two　would　be
having　at　this　moment！　　Empty　rooms；　not　even　a　pet。

Loneliness。　　She　had　been　a　silly　little　fool　to　stand　so　aloof；
just　because　she　was　poor　and　lived　in　a　faded　locality。　　She　mocked
herself。　　Poor　but　proud；　like　the　shopgirl　in　the　movies。　　Denied
herself　companionship　because　she　was　ashamed　of　her　genteel　poverty。
And　now　she　was　paying　for　it。　　Silly　little　fool！　　It　wasn't　as　if
she　did　not　know　how　to　make　and　keep　friends。　　She　knew　she　had
attractions。　　Just　a　senseless　false　pride。　　The　best　friends　in　the
world；　after　a　series　of　rebuffs；　would　drop　away。　　Her　mother's
friends　never　called　any　more；　because　of　her　aloofness。　　She　had
only　a　few　girl　friends；　and　even　these　no　doubt　were　beginning　to
think　her　uppish。

She　did　not　take　off　her　hat　and　coat。　　She　wandered　through　the
empty　rooms；　undecided。　　If　she　went　to　a　movie　the　rooms　would　be
just　as　lonely　when　she　returned。　　Companionship。　　The　urge　of　it
was　so　strong　that　there　was　a　temptation　to　call　up　someone；　even
someone　she　had　rebuffed。　　She　was　in　the　mood　to　confess　everything
and　to　make　an　honest　attempt　to　start　all　over　again　…　to　accept
friendship　and　let　pride　go　hang。　　Impulsively　she　started　for　the
telephone；　when　the　doorbell　rang。

Immediately　the　sense　of　loneliness　fell　away。　　Another　chapter　in
the　great　game　of　hide　and　seek　that　had　kept　her　from　brooding
until　to…night？　　The　doorbell　carried　a　new　message　these　days。
Nine　o'clock。　　Who　could　be　calling　at　that　hour？　　She　had　forgotten
to　advise　Cutty　of　the　fact　that　someone　had　gone　through　the
apartment。　　She　could　not　positively　assert　the　fact。　　Those　articles
in　her　bureau　she　herself　might　have　disturbed。　　She　might　have　taken
a　handkerchief　in　a　hurry；　hunted　for　something　under　the　lingerie
impatiently。　　Still　she　could　not　rid　herself　of　the　feeling　that
alien　hands　had　been　rifling　her　belongings。　　Not　Bernini；　decidedly。

Remembering　Cutty's　advice　about　opening　the　door　with　her　foot
against　it；　she　peered　out。　　No　emissary　of　Bolshevisim　here。　　A
weary　little　messenger　boy　with　a　long　box　in　his　arms　called　her
name。

〃Miz　Conover？〃

〃Yes。〃

The　boy　thrust　the　box　into　her　hands　and　clumped　to　the　stairhead。
Kitty　slammed　the　door　and　ran　into　the　living　room；　tearing　open
the　box　as　she　ran。　　Roses　from　Cutty；　she　knew　it。　　The　old　darling！
Just　when　she　was　on　the　verge　of　breaking　down　and　crying！　　She　let
the　box　fall　to　the　floor　and　cuddled　the　flowers　to　her　heart；　her
eyes　filling。　　Cutty。

One　of　those　ideas　which　sometime　or　another　spring　into　the　minds
of　all　pretty　women　who　are　poor　sprang　into　hers　…　an　idea　such　as
an　honest　woman　might　muse　over；　only　to　reject。　　Sinister　and
cynical。　　Kitty　was　at　this　moment　in　rather　a　desperate　frame　of
mind。　　Those　two　inherent　characteri