CHAPTER XXX
GONE
In the middle of the room was a table Jimmy always ate his meals at, and on that table was a big square piece of paper and there was a big envelope on the floor. But there wasn’t any sign of Jimmy. Oh, boy, didn’t I feel good on account of that.
Westy read the paper out loud and it was something about a convention of the Grand Army, or something like that. It said how all the members of some post or other were asked to go to Saratoga on account of that big convention and it was addressed to “Comrade James Van Dorian.” Gee, I felt awful sorry for him, sort of, because I knew how it was with him.
“He just couldn’t help it,” Westy said, “he got ready in a hurry and went. I guess he took all the money he had saved up—poor old Jimmy.”
“He’ll lose his job, that’s sure,” I said.
Even while we were standing there I could kind of see him getting dressed up in a hurry in that old blue coat he had, with the buttons all falling off it, and starting off with his crutch. Maybe he just got his pension money, hey?
All the while the whistle on the tug was blowing and I was afraid people would come around and maybe they’d all be on the side of the tugboat man and be mad at Uncle Jimmy.
Jiminy, I wasn’t mad at him, anyway.
And I could hear that old man shouting about all the things he was going to do and about the bridgeman deserting and leaving him in the mud.
“Hurry up,” Westy said, “let’s find the key-bar and we’ll open it for him; we can do it all right.”