As he rose to leave, Cimon said, “I am really sorry that I cannot at present give you the information you wish about my young friend. But I am under bonds. His father only can release me, and that father is far away. So I must confine myself to saying that, unlike most plants which begin to wither as soon as they are parted from the parent root, this plant daily freshens into a larger life. I am the more sorry that I cannot go beyond this, both because you have already given me information of the highest value, and because I came here for the very purpose of getting still further information from you—provided you can consistently grant it. I wish to get from the leading dealers in eastern goods in this city the present selling prices of a number of articles—also how these prices compare with those of as many past years as possible. I have already obtained written statements from all, save yourself, on whom I proposed to call. Do you see any objection to giving me yours?”
“None in the world. Let me see your list.”
So in a few moments Cimon added another to his papers. As Simeon handed it to him, he said:
“I think you can hardly have called on Malus to-day, and yet he has the largest establishment of your sort in the city. He would hardly care to give you such a paper as this. He is much too deep for that.”
Without a word, the Greek singled out one from his parcel of papers and passed it to the Jew—who as soon as he had glanced it over, exclaimed:
“Where was Malus when this was given?”
“Absent.”
“Of course. Of course he was absent—as his deputy will probably be when the master learns of his indiscretion.”
As Cimon had noticed no sign of recognition in street or shop, save at Simeon’s, he had begun to feel that perhaps his precautions had been unnecessary; so, when he had taken leave of Simeon and saw how large a part of the day still remained, instead of crossing directly into the Greek quarter again and so proceeding homeward, he turned northward on Emporium Street till he came to the great square at the intersection with the street of Canopus. Here, seeing a crowd that seemed greatly interested with something in their midst, he crossed over to them, and finally managed, by a patient use of the impatience of others, to secure a place where he could see what was going on.
And this was what was going on. A number of street boys, altogether Jewish, were busy practicing a new game. They had drawn on the pavement with a charred stick the ground plan of a large building which Cimon at once recognized as the Diapleuston. Just before him was an unmarked place for the principal door: half way down on the left was a pile of boxes to stand for the main bema with its canopy and lecturn: in front of this stood a group of boys pretending to be in earnest conversation among themselves. After this show had continued for a while, all but two of the boys walked off and squatted silently behind the boxes. The two boys left continued the pantomime of conversation for a few minutes, when a noise was heard and lo, another group of boys who had been hid behind the fountain came marching in at the door, two by two, with papyrus helmits on their heads and long, sharpened sticks for spears, trying to keep pace together in soldierly fashion, and carrying in their midst, transfixed on an extra long stick, a very ragged, dirty, and hideous doll. At the head of this company swaggered, perhaps the best dressed, but certainly the ugliest little rascal of the whole lot. He had taken some pains to add to his natural accomplishments such smutches of loveliness as a liberal use of mud and charcoal could give, and would have frightened his own father and mother. About his waist was a rope for a sash: to this was attached a bit of papyrus cut into the shape of a scabbard; in his hand he flourished as sword a short strip of lath that had just come from the shambles and was red enough to be the sword of Mars.