He turned and strode away toward No. 20.
CHAPTER XXVIII
BATTLE
JIM ducked his head in a delighted greeting to Miriam and performed a wave of salutation with his crutch. “Dey can’t lose us, miss,” he remarked.
Miriam regarded him with increasing pleasure and cordiality. Here was a creature, absolutely trustworthy and highly intelligent, come to her at a moment when she was most in need of precisely such a person. “Did you come alone?” was her instinctive question.
“Don’t let dat worry yer, miss,” was his reply. “I’s John de Baptis’, hollerin’ in der wilderness; de rest of de bunch mebbe don’ know where deir goin’, but dey’s on de way! We’s goin’ to clean up dis here back yard, an’ den we’ll prepare de chamber for de bridegroom! As fer honeymoon, how’d N’York suit yer? Dere’s more moons ’n honey round dese diggin’s!”
“But what news of Jack? Any message? Is he well?”
“Say, miss; wait till yer lamps him! De boss is fine—he’s out er sight! ’Bout de las’ I seen uv him he was feedin’ his face wid de best roast p’easant ’tween dis an’ Delmonniker’s, an’ washin’ her down wid de right juice, believe me! Sure, he’d a message all fixed up fer yer, pink goods, an’ smellin’ like a Fif’ Av’noo drug-joint; but me, I meets up on a suddint wid dat dere shiny gink—you knows him, de front name uv him is Sol—an’ he stakes me for de trip dat quick I didn’t git no time fer ter grab de billydux. Mebbe yer’ll have it by der reg’lar post!”
Having thus avouched his fitness for diplomatic interludes, Jim cast an approving look around him, and congratulated the lady on the homelike aspect of her surroundings. “Dis here come-an’-go stuff gits my goat,” he observed with feeling, “I dassent go fer to sit on a chair fer fear some guy’ll t’ink it away from me! An’ de scenery dey rings in on yer—say, don’ it swat yer between de peepers? De sky gits too busy wid itself, what wid moons an’ rings an’ truck like dat! No, miss, Broadway was never like dis! An’ de gals—well, not presumin’ ter speak uv yerself, miss, dat Jenny ain’t no half-tone—she’s de stuff!”
After reassuring her visitor as to the stability of her chairs, Miriam seated herself opposite to him, and begged him to disclose his plans.
“Fust off, I’ll put yer wise to meself,” he began, dropping his voice to a confidential undertone. “Dis here Sol geezer, he’s a dead-game sport an’ no come-back; he sizes up what I’s goin’ ag’inst, an’ he dolls me up wid a new suit o’ interplex, an’ manipperlates me ol’ hobble-stick inter a Paggysis an’ de Empire State Limited, an’ I dunno what nex’; but when I needs it, I has it! Wid dis stick in me han’, ol’ Torpy’s got nuttin’ on us, miss, an’ I gives yer dat straight!”