"I--you know how I have felt about her, but that's all wrong. She's
been all right--she's a brick. I'm the one that's given the raw deal.
I've been a selfish, overbearing, good-for-nothing ass ever since I
could walk, and if she wasn't a saint she'd have kicked me out long
ago. Why, I sneaked off and left a lie on her dresser, and never gave
her a chance to get the thing straight, or anything. I tell you,
Marion, if I was in her place, and had a measly cub of a son like I've
been, I'd drown him in a tub, or something. Honest to John, I wouldn't
have a brat like that on the place! How she's managed to put up with
me all these years is more than I can figure; it gets my goat to look
back at the kinda mark I've been--strutting around, spending money I
never earned, and never thanking her--feeling abused, by thunder,
because she didn't--oh, it's hell! I can't talk about it. I'm going
back and see her, and tell her where I stand. She'll kick me out if
she's got any sense, but that'll be all right. I'll see her, and then
I'm going to the chief of police and straighten out that bandit
stuff. I'm going to tell just how the play came up--just a josh, it
was. I'll tell 'em--it'll be bad enough, at that, but maybe it'll do
some good--make other kids think twice before they get to acting
smart-alecky.
"So you run along home, Marion, and maybe some day--if they don't send
me up for life, or anything like that--maybe I'll have the nerve to
tell yuh--" A dark flush showed on his cheek-bones, that were gaunt
from worry and hard living. He moved uneasily, tugging at the collar
of his sweater.
"You've got your nerve now, Jack Corey, if you want to know what I
think," Marion retorted indignantly. "Why, you're going up against an
awfully critical time! And do you think for a minute, you big silly
kid, that I'll let you go alone? I--I never did--ah--respect you as
much as I do right now. I--well, I'm going right along with you. I'm
going to see that chief of police myself, and I'm going to see your
mother. And if they don't give you a square deal, I'm going to tell
them a few things! I--"
"You can't go. Don't be a fool, sweetheart. You mustn't let on that
you've thrown in with me at all, and helped me, and all that. I
appreciate it--but my friendship ain't going to be any help to--"
"Jack Corey, I could shake you! The very idea of you talking that way
makes me wild! I am going. You can't stop me from riding on the train,
can you? And you can't stop me from seeing the chief--"
"I'd look nice, letting your name get mixed up with mine! Sweetheart,
have some sense!" Jack may not have known what name he had twice
called her, but Marion's eyes lighted with blue flames.
"Some things are better than sense--sweetheart," she said, with a shy
boldness that startled her. The last word was spoken into the
snow-matted fur of her muff, but Jack heard it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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