“But get rid of your tremblin’! You needn’t be ’fraid of me. I ain’t the mean guy you think. When you meet me in my every-day clothes, you kin see for yourself. You’ll see I’m a young feller of strong, pure manhood. You’ll see I’ve the build of a pugilist. Whoever you are, Mr. Skirt, I know, from the diamonds in your harp, you’re rich! On the other hand, I know I kin do for you far more than you kin for me. Any how, let’s you and me be best friends? We’ll part now, but you’ll sure see me comin’ up to you on Wall Street soon. Bye-bye, sweetheart!”
O Ralph-Jennie, the fellow was really cute as he took his departure. He captivated me by his good-humored farewell. It dissipated all my depression. While I realized he would descend to chantage, I already perceived he possessed innumerable compensating characteristics. Every individual is derelict in |Infatuation.| some respect. Tony had never been enlightened on the immorality of chantage. So I hardly devoted a second thought to his cupidity. At the time I possessed no “best friend”—no “adopted son”, as we older hermaphroditoi designate our sweethearts. I immediately commenced to gloat over Tony as my conquest—my boy! How proud I already was of him, although not yet having visioned his countenance! But he had strutted away in such a manly fashion and possessed such a deep bass, ultra-masculine voice! I could perceive he was athletic and a little larger than the average man. And I was particularly obsessed with his blatant, nonchalant description of himself: “Strong, pure manhood”!
Henceforth my stream of thought was surfeited with visions of conversing with him again. But the opportunity did not supervene until two awfully long hours—in the closing half-hour of the ball. The floor was ankle-deep with confetti, rendering further dancing impracticable. A goodly proportion of the revellers were anyway too tipsy or too fatigued to be on their feet. The hundreds promenading the arena, besides the couple of thousand in the boxes and balconies, were sprinkled with red, white, and blue confetti and wound round and round with paper streamers of all colors. A steadily flowing river of humanity was discharging into the street. I would myself have already taken my departure, but had devoted the last half-hour to dragging myself wearily to every nook and corner in search of my bear.
Finally, in the main corridor, a handsome adolescent stepped smilingly out of the stream of humanity |Chantage.| slowly moving streetward: “Are you looking for me, sweetheart? I am Tony Neddo.”
He dared excuse himself, for a moment or two, from his “lady”—considering to what class she belonged! We withdrew out of her hearing. I was tickled to death on now beholding what I had drawn in the lottery. I had known the fellow was ultra-masculine. But not until that moment did I discover that he was handsome into the bargain. Indeed he was indisputably the best looker of the hundreds of young fellows who, with their “ladies,” streamed by as we whispered together.
“How old are you?” I began.
“Nineteen is all.”
“Eleven years younger than myself. Just my ideal age for a young man to be adopted as my son. Tell me frankly: Did anybody ever tell you that you are unusually good-looking?”
“That’s not for me to say. But you yourself see me now when I have my own clothes on. I don’t look as if I belonged to the weak, crippled sex—as you do yourself—do I? I look to be a he-man, don’t I? While you are one of those awful she-men! Mr. Skirt, just think of your own shameful, disgustin’ nature! Your secret and character have come into me power. And it wouldn’t do you any good to hit back. I have nothin’ at all to lose.
“But I’m only talkin’ business now. Every bloke puts his foot into it now and again. And I did at our first meetin’. Because I was then just crazy for money. That’s all. But it only looks as if I’m after your money. What I really and truly want is the chance to make your life happy. I want to be your |Boon of an “Adopted Son”.| best friend. Just let me see what you would do for a young feller who would give himself to you, body and soul. No one is poorer than me these days. All I got is the suit on me back. I only rented that bear rig for the evenin’.”