"Be hanged to ye!" said the red-bearded man. "Can't I say a teasing
word without gittin' called to order fer it? I know ye, my boy, as
well as ye know yerself. Ye're a queer one. Ye're one of the few that
must know all sides of the world--and can't content themselves with
bein' respectable! Ye haven't sunk to 'low life' because ye're low
yourself, but ye'll never git a damned one o' the respectable to
believe it. There's a few others like ye in the wide world, and I've
seen one or two of 'em. I've been all over, steeple-chasin',
sailorman, soldier, pedler, and in the PO-lice; I've pulled the Grand
National in Paris, and I've been handcuffed in Hong-Kong; I've seen all
the few kinds of women there is on earth and the many kinds of men.
Yer own kind is the one I've seen the fewest of, but I knew ye belonged
to it the first time I laid eyes on ye!" He paused, then continued
with conviction: "Ye'll come to no good, either, fer yerself, yet no
one can say ye haven't the talents. Ye've helped many of the boys out
of a bad hole with a word of advice around the courts and the jail.
Who knows but ye'd be a great lawyer if ye kept on?"
Young people usually like to discuss themselves under any
conditions--hence the rewards of palmistry,--but Joe's comment on this
harangue was not so responsive as might have been expected. "I've got
seven dollars," he said, "and I'll leave the clothes I've got on. Can
you fix me up with something different?"
"Aha!" cried the red-bearded man. "Then ye ARE in trouble! I thought
it 'd come to ye some day! Have ye been dinnymitin' Martin Pike?"
"See what you can do," said Joe. "I want to wait here until daybreak."
"Lie down, then," interrupted the other. "And fergit the hullabaloo in
the throne-room beyond."
"I can easily do that"--Joe stretched himself upon the bed,--"I've got
so many other things to remember."
"I'll have the things fer ye, and I'll let ye know I have no use fer
seven dollars," returned the red-bearded man, crossly. "What are ye
sniffin' fer?"
"I'm thinking of the poor fellow that got the mate to this," said Joe,
touching the bandage. "I can't help crying when I think they may have
used vinegar on his head, too."
"Git to sleep if ye can!" exclaimed the Samaritan, as a hideous burst
of noise came from the dance-room, where some one seemed to be breaking
a chair upon an acquaintance. "I'll go out and regulate the boys a
bit." He turned down the lamp, fumbled in his hip-pocket, and went to
the door.
"Don't forget," Joe called after him.
"Go to sleep," said the red-bearded man, his hand on the door-knob.
"That is, go to thinkin', fer ye won't sleep; ye're not the kind. But
think easy; I'll have the things fer ye. It's a matter of pride with
me that I always knew ye'd come to trouble."
VI
YE'LL TAK' THE HIGH ROAD AND I'LL TAK' THE LOW ROAD
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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