“I don’t know where these men are.”
“You don’t know the town? Lord above!”
“Draw me a map,” said Paul. “I can follow a trail.”
With fingers that shook Tussock tore a leaf from a note book and drew a map showing the shortest route to the office of Gunning & Strong.
“There! Follow that. Run! And come back quick. Go! Get out of this!” he fairly yelled.
Impelled by his impetuosity, Paul rushed from the room, and in half an hour was back, receipt in hand, and with him a man whom Tussock greeted in enthusiastic welcome.
“Hello, Con, you blasted old whale! Say, did you get that thing done?”
“Nip and tuck, Dan!” replied the man. “This young fellow held them to it. Mighty smart, too. Got the deal cinched all right. But what has been biting you? What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter? What’s always the matter? What’s been the matter for twenty years? I am a fool, a golly-woggled, horn-shackled, blankety blank fool. That’s all. Nothing more. And this young fellow pulled me out of a hell hole last night, put me to bed, kissed me good night, and now is nursing me back to health. That is what I want, Con—a nurse, a keeper. I ain’t safe. I ought to be on a string, like a blankety blank poodle dog, muzzled and on a string! Say, boy!” he said, turning to Paul, “give me your hand. You’re a man, straight grained and white to the core. You want a job, eh?”
“Yes, I do.”