The Definite Object: A Romance of New YorkFarnol, Jeffery
General
The Definite Object: A Romance of New York
Farnol, Jeffery
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Why, then, if you're goin' t' venture among that lot, you take this
with ye, Mr. Geoffrey," and she thrust the poker into his hand. "You'll
sure need it--ah, do now!" But Ravenslee laughed and set it aside.
"You'd better take it, Mr. Geoffrey; fists is fists, but gimme a
poker--every time! A poker ain't t' be sneezed at! What, goin'--an'
empty-'anded? Mr. Geoffrey, I'm surprised at you. Think of Hermy!"
"That's just what I am doing."
"Well, s'posin' they hurt you! What'll Hermy do?"
"You think she'd mind, then, though I'm--only a peanut man?"
"Even a peanut man's a feller creatur, ain't he--an' Hermy's 'eart is
very tender an'--oh, shucks, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess you know she'd jest
be crazy if you was hurt bad!"
"Why, then," said Ravenslee, smiling and taking up the battered hat,
"I'll take great care of myself--trust me!"
"Then good-by, Mr. Geoffrey, good-by and--the good Lord go with you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee and followed Tony out upon the
stair. Upon one of the many landings the young Italian paused.
"Me put-a-you wise, Geoff; you savvy where-a to find Spike, now me go
back t' my lil Pietro, yes. S' long, pal, 'n' good-a luck!"
Ravenslee hastened on down-stairs, returning neighbourly nods and
greetings as he went, but staying for none, and so, crossing the court,
turned into the avenue. On the corner he beheld the Spider, hard at work
on his eternal chewing gum, cap drawn low and hands in pockets. Seeing
Ravenslee, he nodded and lurched forward.
"What's doin', Geoff?" he enquired.
"I'm off to O'Rourke's--coming?"
"Not much! An' say, 't ain't worth your trouble--I ain't fightin'.
Nawthin' but a lot o' fifth-raters."
"I'm going over to fetch Spike."
"How much?" exclaimed the Spider, his square jaws immobile from sheer
astonishment. "Say, you ain't crazy, are ye--I mean you ain't dippy or
cracked in the dome, are ye? Because d' Kid's goin' ten rounds with
Young Alf, d' East Side Wonder, t'night, see?"
"Not if I can help it, Spider."
"Aw--come off, bo! D'ye think Bud'll let him go?"
"I shan't ask Bud--or any one else."
"Meanin' as you'll walk right in on Bud's tough bunch an' cop out d' Kid
on y'r lonesome--eh?"
"I shall try."
"Then you sure are crazy; if y'r dome ain't cracked yet, it's sure goin'
t' be. Why, Bud 'n' his crowd'll soak you good 'n' plenty 'n' chuck ye
out again quicker'n ye went in. They will sure, bo--if you go--"
"I'm wondering if you'll come along and help?" said Ravenslee lazily.
"Me? Not so's you could notice it. I ain't huntin' that sort o' trouble."
"Oh, well, if you think you'd--er--better not, I'll go alone."
"What, yer goin', are ye?"
"Of course! You see, Spike is my friend; consequently his trouble
is my trouble. Good night, Spider, and whatever else you do, be sure
to--er--take good care of yourself!" And Ravenslee smiled and turned
away; but he had not gone six paces before the Spider was at his elbow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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