American fiction -- 19th century; London (England) -- Fiction
But they couldn’t see it, and so I turned it up and came North.
They’ll ruin the whole thing, though, if they don’t chuck that foolish
hanging business. The first thing they know, everybody’ll stop running
off cattle, just as a protest, and then their place won’t be worth
living in. It’ll be a pity, because a cow-boy gone wrong is really the
best thing there is. He’s as good as a Bengal tiger and a Russian wolf
together, with a grizzly bear thrown in. You may quote me as saying so.”
“I shall not fail to do so,” said David. “Come, drink up your liquor,
and we’ll toddle. I’m fair glad to see you back whole and sound,
laddie--and more still, a free man.”
He brought forth from the bedroom a pillow and some blankets, and began
arranging them upon the sofa. “And are the Americans so daft about lords
and titles as they’re made out?” he asked as he worked. “Did they humble
themselves before the handle to your name?”
Drumpipes sat up. “Do you suppose I’m such an abandoned ass as to travel
with a title?” he demanded. “Man, if you knew what it cost me, even
without it, it would turn your hair grey. Ten dollars here, twenty
dollars there, seven dollars and a-half somewhere else--one steady and
endless drain on the purse, till the marvel is I was able to get out
at all! And there’s no third-class on the railways whatever. It’s just
terrible, Davie! And as ill-luck would have it, I couldn’t even come
home steerage on the steamer. There were passengers that I knew in the
first cabin, and so I had to throw away more money there. And I’m not
like you--I’ve no ten-pound notes to spare for my day’s amusement.”
“No, you’re not like me,” responded Moss-crop, in no sympathetic tone.
“I have my magnificent £432 per annum, which is over eight guineas a
week. And you--you have only a paltry four thousand odd, not more than
ten times as much. I wonder you’ve kept off the rates so long, Archie.”
“Ah, I know all that,” protested the Earl. “But you have no damned
position to keep up. You must remember that, Davie, It’s a very
important fact. It makes all the difference in the world.”
“But you only keep it up in your own mind, and that’s not an expensive
place. There’s been no year since I first knew you, either as Master of
Linkhaw or since you came into the whole of it, that you’ve spent
the half of your income. To hear you talk, one would think you’d been
scattering your capital as well with both hands.”
“Ah, but those lawyers’ bills, Davie! What think you now should they be
like? Six hundred, eh? Or may be seven?”
“You’ll know soon enough. I’ll not encourage you to pass a sleepless
night. Come now. You’ve got things in your bag here, haven’t you? I can
let you have whatever you lack.”
“No, you keep your bed. I’ll sleep out here,” said Drumpipes. “I’m a
deal more used to roughing it than you are. I give you my word, I shall
sleep here like a top.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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