★ 6 ★::A Gentleman of Leisure
An Exhibition Performance
Cold may of wagers, but without a there is something and in the type of mind which at the least into the making of them, something of the days of the Regency. Nowadays the to have England. When Mr. Lloyd George Premier of Great Britain no were to be pea-nuts along the Strand with a toothpick. When Mr. George is it is that any Briton will allow his to until his party returns to office. It is in the United States that the has a home. It is of some minds to into a with the of a soldier in a hope, and, once in, to it almost as a trust. Some men up out of the of “daring”.
To this class Jimmy Pitt belonged. He was of the same type as the man in the who to the lady somebody him he wouldn’t. There had been a time when a challenge, a “dare”, had not as a to him. In his newspaper days life had been one long series of challenges. They had been the of the business. A had not been unless the were difficult.
With the of his newspaper life came a into the of things. There were times, many times, when Jimmy was bored. He for excitement, and life appeared to have so little to offer. The path of the rich man was so smooth, and it to lead nowhere. This of a house was like an to a child. With an of purpose which should have touched his of humour, but which, as a of fact, did not to him as in any way, he himself to the work. The truth was that Jimmy was one of those men who are to the with force. Somehow the had to an outlet. If he had 37to birds’ eggs, he would have set about it with the same energy.
Spike was on the of his chair, but happy, his still from the unhoped-for praise. Jimmy looked at his watch. It was nearly three o’clock. A idea him. The gods had provided gifts—why not take them?
“Spike!”
“Huh?”
“Would you to come and a with me now?”
“Gee, boss!”
“Would you?”
“Surest t’ing you know, boss.”
“Or, rather,” Jimmy, “would you to a while I come along with you? Strictly speaking, I am here on vacation, but a like this isn’t work. It’s this way,” he explained. “I’ve taken a to you, Spike, and I don’t like to see you your time on work. You have the of the in you, and with a little I put a on you. I wouldn’t do this for every one, but I to see a man who might do better! I want to see you at work. Come right along and we’ll go up-town and you shall start in. Don’t nervous. Just work as you would if I were not there. I shall not too much. Rome was not in a day. When we are through I will a of your mistakes. How that you?”
“Gee, boss! Great! And say, I just de places. A friend of mine puts me wise to it. Leastways, I didn’t know he was me friend, but I for him now. It’s a——”
“Very well, then. One moment, though.”
He to the telephone. Before he had left New York on his travels, Arthur Mifflin had been at an hotel near Washington Square. It was that he was still there. He called up the number. The night-clerk was an old of his.
“Hullo, Dixon!” said Jimmy, “is that you? I’m Pitt. Pitt. Yes. I’m back. How did you guess? Yes, very pleasant, thanks. Has Mr. Mifflin come in yet? Gone to bed? Never mind, ring him up, will you? Thanks.” Presently the and voice of Mr. Mifflin spoke at the other end of the line.
“What’s wrong? Who the devil’s that?”
“My dear Arthur! Where you up such I can’t think. Not from me.”
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“Is that you, Jimmy? What in the name of——”
“Heavens! what are you kicking about? The night’s yet young. Arthur, that little we made—cracking that crib, you know. Are you listening? Have you any to my taking an along with me? I don’t want to do anything to our agreement, but there’s a here who’s that I should let him come along and up a hints. He’s a professional all right. Not in our class, of course, but a workman. He——Arthur! Arthur! These are words! Then am I to you have no objection? Very well. Only don’t say later on that I didn’t play fair. Good night.”
He up the and to Spike.
“Ready?”
“Ain’t goin’ to put on your gum-shoes, boss?”
Jimmy reflectively, as if there was something in what this suggested. He into the bedroom, and returned a pair of thin leather shoes.
Spike tentatively.
“Won’t need your gun?” he hazarded.
Jimmy gave a laugh.
“I work with my brains, not guns,” he said. “Let us be going.”
There was a taxi-cab near by, as there always is in New York. Jimmy pushed Spike in.
The luxury of in a taxi-cab Spike for miles. At One Hundred and Fiftieth Street Jimmy stopped the and paid the driver, who took the money with that air which the taxi-chauffeur. A man might have some about the ill-matched pair. The chauffeur, having a cigarette, off without any of whatsoever. It might have been part of his ordinary to drive in and shock-headed in parti-coloured about the city at three o’clock in the morning.
“We will now,” said Jimmy, “stroll on and prospect. It might if we up to the door. It is up to you, Spike. Lead me to this house you mentioned.”
They walked on, out of Broadway. It Jimmy some to that much-enduring as as this. It had to him to what Broadway did with itself Times Square. He had much of his time abroad, in where a 39changes its name every hundred yards or so without any reason.
It was now that they had moved from the centre of things, but it was still too light for Jimmy’s tastes. He was content, however, to in his companion’s charge. Spike had his method for on these occasions.
Spike, meanwhile, onwards. Block after he passed, until the houses to be more scattered.
At length he stopped a fair-sized house. As he did so a single rain-drop with a on the of Jimmy’s neck. In another moment the had begun—jerkily at first, then, as if to its work, with the of a shower-bath.
“Dis is de place, boss,” said Spike.
From a burglar’s point of view it was an house. It had no porch, but there was a window only a from the ground. Spike from his pocket a small bottle and a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” Jimmy.
“Treacle, boss,” said Spike deferentially.
He the of the bottle on to the paper, which he pressed against the window-pane. Then, out a instrument, he gave the paper a tap. The broke, though the was almost inaudible. The paper came away with the attached, then Spike his hand in the opening, the catch and pushed up the window.
“Elementary,” said Jimmy; “elementary, but neat.”
There was now a to be negotiated. This took longer, but in the end Spike’s methods prevailed.
Jimmy cordial.
“You have been well grounded, Spike,” he said. “And, after all, that is the battle. The I give to every is, ‘Learn to walk you try to run.’ Master the A B C of the first. With a little you will do. Just so. Pop in.”
Spike over the sill, by Jimmy. The a match and the electric light switch. They were in a and with taste. Jimmy had the hideousness, but here everything, 40from the wall-paper to the smallest ornaments, was well selected.
Business, however, was business. This was no time to in room-furnishing. There was that big J to be on the door. If ’twere done, then ’twere well ’twere done quickly.
He was just moving to the door, when from some part of the house came the of a dog. Another joined in. The a duet. The air was with their clamour.
“Gee!” Spike.
The more or less to up the situation.
“’Tis sweet,” says Byron, “to the watch-dog’s bark.” Jimmy and Spike two watch-dogs’ cloying. Spike this by making a for the open window. Unfortunately for the success of this manoeuvre, the of the room was covered, not with a carpet, but with rugs, and these it was very polished. Spike, on one of these islands, was undone. No power of will or can save a man in such a case. Spike skidded. His from under him. There was a of red hair, as of a meteor. The next moment he had on his with a which the house, and the of Manhattan Island as well. Even in that the across Jimmy’s mind that this was not Spike’s lucky night.
Upstairs the of the had to the “A la morte” in Il Trovatore. Particularly good work was being done by the dog.
Spike sat up, groaning. Equipped though he was by nature with a of the purest and most solid ivory, the had him. His eyes, like those of Shakespeare’s poet, a frenzy, did from to earth, from earth to heaven. He passed his through his hair.
Heavy were the stairs. In the the dog had A in and was it, while his fellow-artiste in the register.
“Get up!” Jimmy. “There’s somebody coming! Get up, you idiot, can’t you?”
It was of Jimmy that it to him to the one and alone. There was once an 41Italian who, in a jail-breaking, to his such as the and the warders, for himself the of making “da gran’ escape”. Jimmy was the exact opposite of this strategist. Spike was his brother-in-arms. He would as soon have of him as a sea-captain would have his ship.
Consequently, as Spike, despite all exhortations, to on the floor, his and “Gee!” at in a voice, Jimmy himself to fate, and where he was, waiting for the door to open.
It opened the next moment as if a had been it.
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