The Definite Object: A Romance of New YorkFarnol, Jeffery
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The Definite Object: A Romance of New York
Farnol, Jeffery
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Talking o' verses, you ain't a poet, are you?" enquired Mrs. Trapes,
"last poet as lodged wi' me useter go to bed in 'is boots reg'lar!
Consequently I ain't nowise drawed to poets--"
Mr. Ravenslee laughed and shook his head.
"Have no fear," he answered, "I'm no poet nor ever shall be. I'm quite
an ordinary human being, I assure you."
"Young feller--references?"
"Mrs. Trapes, I have none--except my face. But you have very sharp eyes;
look at me well. Do I strike you as a rogue or a thief?"
Here Spike, chancing to catch his eye, blushed painfully, while Mr.
Ravenslee continued:
"Come, Mrs. Trapes, you have a motherly heart, I know, and I am a very
lonely being who needs one like you to--to cook and care for his bodily
needs and to look after the good of his solitary soul. Were I to search
New York I couldn't find another motherly heart so suited to my crying
needs as yours; you won't turn me away, will you?" Saying which, Mr.
Ravenslee smiled his slow, sleepy smile and--wonder of wonders--Mrs.
Trapes smiled too!
"When d' ye wanter come?"
"Now!"
"Land sakes!" she exclaimed.
"If it won't trouble you too much?" he added.
"There's sheets to be aired--" she began, but checked suddenly to stare
at him again. "Look a here, Mr. Geoffrey," she went on, "my terms is
two-fifty a week, ten dollars _with_ board, and a week in advance."
"Good!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, "but since I'm coming in at such short
notice, I'll pay three weeks ahead just to--er--bind the bargain.
See--that will be thirty dollars, won't it?" And speaking, he drew a
handful of crumpled bills from his pocket and proceeded to count out
thirty dollars upon the green and yellow tablecloth.
"Sakes alive!" murmured Mrs. Trapes.
"And now," said he, "I'll just step around the corner with Spike to
buy--er--a toothbrush."
"Toothbrush!" echoed Mrs. Trapes faintly.
"And a few other things. I shall be in early to supper."
"Would a nice, English mutton chop wiv tomatoes--"
"Excellent; and thank you, Mrs. Trapes, for sheltering a homeless
wretch." So saying, her new boarder smiled and nodded and, following
Spike out into the hallway, was gone.
But Mrs. Trapes stood awhile to stare after him, lost in speculation.
"A toothbrush!" said she. "My! My!" Then she turned to stare down at the
pile of bills. "Now I wonder," said she, right hand caressing left
elbow-point, "I jest wonder who he's been a-choking of to get all that
money? But I like his eyes! And his smile! And he looks a man--and
honest! Well, well!"
CHAPTER VI
HOW SPIKE INITIATED MR. RAVENSLEE INTO THE GENTLE ART OF SHOPPING
"Gee!" exclaimed Spike, as they descended the many stairs, "she sure
gave you the frosty-face, Geoff, but it didn't seem to joggle you any!"
"No, it didn't joggle me, Spike, because you see--I like her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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