“Inasmuch as our foremost scientists are uniformly agreed that certain unpleasant results may eventuate when the force of gravitation brings a human organism into sudden and severe juxtaposition with a cement sidewalk, I humbly suggest that you fire me. Besides, that act will automatically avenge me, for then your yellow old newspaper will go plum to blazes!”
“For God’s sake, Billy, get out of here and let me work!”
“But, seriously, Arn—I really am serious now”—and all the mischief had gone out of the reporter’s eyes—“that Miss West would have put up a stunning fight if she had had any sort of a case. But she had nothing to fight with. They certainly had the goods on her old man!”
Bruce turned from his machine and regarded the reporter thoughtfully. Then he crossed and closed the door which was slightly ajar, and again fixed his eyes searchingly on young Harper.
“Billy,” he said in a low, impressive voice, “can you keep a big secret?”
At Bruce’s searching, thoughtful gaze a look of humility crept into Billy’s face.
“Oh, I know you’ve got every right to doubt me,” he acknowledged. “I certainly did leak a lot at the mouth in Chicago when I was boozing so much. But you know since you pulled me out of that wild bunch I was drinking my way to hell with and brought me down here, I’ve been screwed tight as a board to the water-wagon!”
“I know it, Billy. I shouldn’t for an instant——”
“And, Arn,” interrupted Billy, putting his arm contritely across the other’s shoulder, “even though I do joke at you a little—simply can’t help it—you know how eternally grateful I am to you! You’re giving me the chance of my life to make a man of myself. People in this town don’t half appreciate you; they don’t know you for what I know you—the best fellow that ever happened!”