Industrial relations -- Fiction; Strikes and lockouts -- Fiction
They went to the dining-room, leaving Sleeny more than content. He
still heard their voices, too distant to distinguish words; but he
pleased himself by believing that there was a tender understanding in
the tones of Farnham and Miss Belding when they addressed each other,
and that it was altogether a family party. He had no longer any feeling
of slight or neglect because none of them seemed aware of his presence
while they were in the room with him. There was, on the contrary, a
sort of comfort in the thought that he belonged to a different world
from them; that he and Maud were shut out--shut out together--from the
society and the interests which claimed the Beldings and the Farnhams.
"You was a dunderheaded fool," he said, cheerfully apostrophizing
himself again, "to think everybody was crazy after your girl."
He was brought down to a lower level by hearing the door open, and the
voice of Offitt asking if Mr. Sleeny was in.
"No one of that name here," said Budsey.
"I was told at Matchin's he was here."
"Oh! the yonng man from Matchin's. He is in the library," and Offitt
came in, looking more disreputable than usual, as he had greased his
hair inordinately for the occasion. Budsey evidently regarded him with
no favorable eye; he said to Sleeny, "This person says he comes from
Matchin's; do you know him?"
"Yes, it's all right," said Sam, who could say nothing less; but when
Budsey had left them, he turned to Offitt with anything but welcome in
his eye.
"Well, you've come, after all."
"Yes," Offitt answered, with an uneasy laugh. "Curiosity gets us all,
from Eve down. What a lay-out this is, anyhow," and his small eyes
darted rapidly around the room. "Say, Sam, you know Christy Fore, that
hauls for the Safe Company? He was telling me about the safe he put
into this room--said nobody'd ever guess it _was_ a safe. Where the
devil is it?"
"I don't know. It's none of my business, nor yours either."
"I guess you got up wrong foot foremost, Sam, you're so cranky. Where
can the ---- thing be? Three doors and two winders and a fire-place,
and all the rest book-cases. By Jinx! there it is, I'll swear." He
stepped over to one of the cases where a pair of oaken doors, rich with
arabesque carving, veiled a sort of cabinet. He was fingering at them
when Sam seized him by the shoulder, and said:
"Look here, Andy, what _is_ your game, anyhow? I'm here on business,
and I ain't no fence, and I'll just trouble you to leave."
Offitt's face turned livid. He growled:
"Of all Andylusian jacks, you're the beat. I ain't agoin' to hurt you
nor your friend Farnham. I've got all the p'ints I want for my story,
and devilish little thanks to you, neither. And say, tell me, ain't
there a back way out? I don't want to go by the dinin'-room door.
There's ladies there, and I ain't dressed to see company. Why, yes,
this fits me like my sins," and he opened the French window, and
stepped lightly to the gravel walk below, and was gone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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