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Page 13
"I'll take half of that bet," said Cathewe, rising. "It will be cheap."
Ten minutes later the two older men saw Fitzgerald hang the tray from
his shoulders and take his position on the corner.
"I love that chap, Hewitt; he is what I always wanted to be, but
couldn't be." Cathewe pulled the drooping ends of his mustache. "If
he should write a novel, I'm afraid for your sake that it will be a
good one. Keep him busy. Novel writing keeps a man indoors. But
don't send him on any damn goose chase for the Pole."
"Why not?"
"Well, he might discover it. But, honestly, it's so God-forsaken and
cold and useless. I have hunted musk-ox, and I know something about
the place. North Poling, as I call it, must be a man's natural bent;
otherwise you kill the best that's in him."
"Heaven on earth, will you look! A policeman is arguing with him."
Hewitt shook with laughter.
"But I bought him out," protested Fitzgerald. "There's no law to
prevent me selling these."
"Oh, I'm wise. We want no horse-play on this corner; no joyful college
stunts," roughly.
Fitzgerald saw that frankness must be his card, so he played it. "Look
here, do you see those two gentlemen in the window there?"
"The club?"
"Yes. I made a wager that I could sell one of these statues in half an
hour. If you force me off I'll lose a dinner."
"Well, I'll make a bargain with you. You can stand here for half an
hour; but if you open your mouth to a woman, I'll run you in. No
fooling; I'm talking straight. I'm going to see what your game is."
"I agree."
So the policeman turned to his crossing and reassumed his authority
over traffic, all the while never losing sight of the impromptu vender.
Many pedestrians paused. To see a well-dressed young man hawking
plaster Venuses was no ordinary sight. They knew that some play was
going on, but, with that inveterate suspicion of the city pedestrian,
none of them stopped to speak or buy. Some newsboys gathered round and
offered a few suggestions. Fitzgerald gave them back in kind. No
woman spoke, but there wasn't one who passed that didn't look at him
with more than ordinary curiosity. He was enjoying it. It reminded
him of the man who offered sovereigns for shillings, and never
exchanged a coin.
Once he turned to see if his friends were still watching him. They
were, two among many; for the exploit had gone round, and there were
other wagers being laid on the result. While his head was turned, and
his grin was directed at the club window, a handsome young woman in
blue came along. She paused, touched her lips with her gloved hand
meditatingly, and then went right-about-face swiftly. Some one in the
window motioned frantically to the vender, but he did not understand.
Ten minutes left in which to win his bet. He hadn't made a very good
bargain. Hm! The young woman in blue was stopping. Her exquisite
face was perfectly serious as her eyes ran over the collection on the
tray. They were all done execrably, something Fitzgerald hadn't
noticed before.
"How much are these apiece?"
"Er--twenty-five cents, ma'am," he stammered. As a matter of fact he
hadn't any idea what the current price list was.
"You seem very well dressed," doubtfully; "and you do not look hungry."
"I am doing this for charity's sake," finding his wits. The policeman
hovered near, scowling. He was powerless, since the young woman had
spoken first.
"Charity," in a half-articulated voice, as if the word to her possessed
many angles, and she was endeavoring to find the proper one to fit the
moment.
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