"Ho! ho! Nothing can resist me!" shouted Hogshead Geoffrey.... "Give me anything you choose!... Every table in the room! No matter what! I'll break it in two—man or woman! Wood or stone!... It's all one to me!"
True or not, Hogshead Geoffrey, when not too much in liquor, was a gentle soul, a simple, kind creature; quick-tempered, kind-hearted. Liable to sudden gusts of anger, he was equally capable of knocking the life out of a comrade with his gigantic fist or of comforting some sniveling street urchin crossing his path.
Well did the Scrub know it. He too was a contradictory mixture. This mean little human specimen had been newsboy, seller of post cards, opener of cab doors, Jack of any little trade, the companion of pickpockets and other light-fingered gentry, also adored the good manners of bygone vestry days, the polished phrases, the benedictory gestures!
When in hospital, chance had given him Hogshead Geoffrey for bed-neighbour. It did not take him long to realise that he would be the gainer by a friendship with this kindly giant: it would be a partnership of brain and muscle.... The Scrub commanded: Geoffrey executed.
When the admiration for his prowess had died down, Hogshead Geoffrey continued his story:
"When I had given the chief the knock-out, the next day they gave me the order of the boot, if you would believe me!... I was properly down and out! I hadn't saved a sou—was in debt right and left, to the wine-shops—was all but run in!"...
"What did you do?" enquired the Scrub.
"Bobinette helped me."
"Your sister?"
"Oh, she's a sharp one!... She's studied, too!... She did the bandages at Lariboise!... She had the sous!... I told her my troubles!... She let me have the dibs, so I could hang on!"