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Page 83
Still, he seemed to consider that something more than mere apparent
perverseness would become him.
"They get down 'round m' hands all the time. Can't think when they get
down that way. Bother me. Take m' mind off. I won't do it, that's all. I
don't care. Not for anybody't all!" He replaced the cuff beside its
mate. He seemed to be saying that he had settled the matter--and no good
talking any more about it.
Bean was silent and dignified. His own air seemed to disclose that when
once you warned people in plain words, you could no longer be held
responsible. For a moment they made a point of ignoring the larger
matter.
"Say," Breede suddenly exploded, "I wish you'd tell me just how many
kinds of a--no matter! Where was I? This reserve fund may be subject to
draft f'r repairs an' betterment durin' 'suin' quarter or 'ntil such
time as--"
The telephone again rang its alarm. Breede took the receiver and allowed
dismay to be read on his face as he listened.
"Well, well, well," he at length began, soothingly, "go lie down; take
something; take _something_; well, send over t' White Plains f'r s'more.
Putcha t' sleep. What can _I_ do?" Again the throttling hand.
He ruefully surveyed his littered desk, then drew the long sigh of the
baffled.
"Take telegram m' wife. Sorry can't be home late, 'port'n board meet'n'.
May be called out of town."
The telephone rang, but was ignored.
"Send it off," he directed Bean above the bell's clear call. "Then
c'mon; go ball game. G'wup 'n subway."
"Got car downstairs," suggested Bean.
"You got your work cut out f'r you; 'sall I got t' say," growled Breede.
"'S little old last year's car," said Bean modestly.
XIII
As the little old last year's car bore them to the north, some long
sleeping-image seemed to stir in Breede's mind.
"Got car like this m'self somewheres," he remarked.
Bean was relieved. He didn't want the name of a woman to be brought into
the matter just then.
"'S all right for town work," he said. "Good enough for all I want of a
car."
"'S awful!" said Breede, obviously forgetting the car for another
subject.
"What can I do? She says she's got the right," suggested Bean.
"She'd take it anyway. _I_ know her. Pack a suit-case. Had times with
her already. Takes it from her mother."
"Can't be too rough at the start," declared Bean. "Manage 'em of course,
but 'thout their finding it out--velvet glove." He looked quietly
confident and Breede glanced at him almost respectfully.
"When?" he asked.
"Haven't made up my mind yet," said Bean firmly. "I may consult her,
then again I may not; don't believe in long engagements."
Breede's glance this time was wholly respectful.
"You're a puzzle to me," he conceded.
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