“Wait a few minutes,” Jack told his nervous comrade, “I promised the old lady I’d stay out here until the doctor had looked the child over; she wants to get the story out of us, I imagine, guessing something queer must have happened, from the way those folks kept pawing at us.”
Perk drew a long breath, and muttered something under his breath that sounded like “drat the tough luck;” but he did settle down on a chair, and amused himself looking around the room, on the walls of which were a number of cheap pictures, also several portraits.
“Come over here, Perk,” Jack was saying, as he stood in front of the picture of a man, “here’s a queer happening—look at that face—have you ever seen it before?”
CHAPTER III
Echoes of the Past
Looking rather surprised, as well as duly curious after his nature, Perk accordingly stepped blithely up, took one good stare, and immediately burst out with his characteristic and pet “swear-word” phrase:
“Hot-diggetty-dig! hard to b’lieve my eyes, for a fact, partner—course I seen that phiz afore neow, an’ same stirs up some mighty warm session we passed through a while back.”
“Then you say it’s a portrait of Slim Garrabrant?” asked Jack, in a lower key, and with a quick glance toward the connecting door that was a bit ajar it happened.
“None other, buddy—the slickest flim-flam artist that ever fooled the banks of every state west o’ the Mississip—fair good job that crayon artist made o’ his work—mebbe copied from a reg’lar photo. Ain’t this this the limit though—to think o’ runnin’ acrost his mug out here clost to San Diego. Huh! I allers heard the world seemed mighty small sometimes, an neow I b’lieves it.”
Jack put a finger up to his lips warningly.
“Softly, Perk. That old lady must be some close connection of Slim’s, I’d say; it may be his own mother—yes, the fact of finding his picture hanging on this wall in an honored place makes that plain; she evidently doesn’t know what a rogue her boy is—they must have kept things from reaching her ears after we gobbled him up, and he was sent to Leavenworth—or was it Atlanta?”