Humorous stories; Love stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
But nothin' can drag Ira's gaze from that revolvin' exit door for
more'n half a minute. There he stands, watchin' eager every couple
that comes out; not excited or fidgety, you understand, but calm and in
dead earnest. It got to be midnight, then half past, then quarter to
one; and then all of a sudden there comes a ripplin', high-pitched
laugh, and out trips a giddy-dressed fairy in a gilt and rhinestone
turban effect with a tall plume stickin' straight up from the front of
it. She's one of these big, full-curved, golden brunettes, with long
jet danglers in her ears and all the haughty airs of a grand opera
star. I didn't dream it was the one we was lookin' for until I sees
Ira straighten up and step out to meet her.
"Nellie," says he, sort of choky and pleadin'.
It's a misfire, though; for just then she's turned to finish some
remark to a fat old sport with flat ears and bags under his eyes that's
followin' close behind. So it ain't until she's within a few feet of
Higgins that she sees him at all. Then she stares at him sort of
doubtful, like she could hardly believe her eyes.
"Nellie," he begins again, "I've been wanting to tell you how it was
that----"
"You!" she breaks in. And with that she throws her head back and
laughs. It wa'n't what you might call a pleasant laugh, either. It
sounds cold and hard and bitter.
That's the extent of the reunion too. She's still laughin' as she
brushes by him and lets the old sport help her into the taxi; and a
second later we're left standin' there at the edge of the curb with
another taxi rollin' up in front of us. I notices that Ira's holdin'
something in his hand that he's starin' at foolish. It's the satin box
with the seventeen-fifty ring in it.
"Well," says I, as we steps back, "returns all in, ain't they?"
"Not by a long shot!" says Ira. "Dinged if I don't know someone
that'll be glad to take a ring from me, and that's Maggie!"
"Whew!" says I. "Well, that's some quick shift. Then you ain't goin'
to linger round with a busted heart?"
"Not much!" says Ira. "Guess I've played fool about long enough. I'm
goin' home."
"That's gen'rally a safe bet too," says I. "But how about buildin'
that boat for Mr. Robert?"
"I'll build it," says he; "that is, soon as I can fix it up with
Maggie."
"Then it's a cinch," says I; "for you look to me, Ira, like one of the
kind that can come back strong."
So, you see, I had somethin' definite to report next mornin'.
"He will, eh? Bully!" says Mr. Robert. "But why couldn't he have said
as much to me yesterday? What was the trouble?"
"Case of moth chasin'," says I, "from the kerosene circuit to the white
lights. But, say, I didn't know before that Broadway had so many
recruitin' stations. They ought to put Boothbay Harbor on the map for
this."
CHAPTER IV
TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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