“And now,” he concluded, “it is one great big beautiful playground, the safe home of wild life, and will be, I hope, for years to come.”
“I believe,” he said, after a period of silence, “that some time to-morrow the wind will fall. To-morrow night you may have an opportunity to tackle the great adventure—your row to Passage Island. To-night and to-morrow you must rest.
“I’d gladly go with you when the time comes,” he added thoughtfully, “but I am large and heavy. I have a left arm that goes back on me when I row hard and long. Got a bullet there once. But you’ll make it all right. You’ll make it. Never fear.”
CHAPTER XXV
THE TRAIL LEADS NORTH
After leaving Drew Lane’s room, Johnny Thompson had walked the streets for hours. He needed to think. He could think best while walking, so he walked.
He had gone back on a man he thought of as a friend. Or had he? At least, it appeared that way to him now. Does there ever come a time when it is one’s duty to turn his back upon a friend? A hard question. He could not answer it.
Three times he passed the flower shop by the bridge. The shop was closed, yet a light cast upon the flowers in the window displayed Angelo’s skill as a florist. He was an artist in this field. No one could equal him. Could a man be an artist and yet be a rascal? Angelo loved music. Often he had talked to Johnny of symphony concerts, and of grand opera. Could one love the best in music and yet be a villain at heart?
He walked across the bridge and back again. The place below the shop was completely dark to-night. No procession of men was passing down that flight of stairs. Perhaps Angelo had nothing to do with that which went on below his shop. Perhaps he knew nothing of it.
Once again his mind took up the problem. Angelo had always been friendly. His smile was contagious. Was it true that a man could “smile and smile, and be a villain”?
He gave the problem up at last, returned to his room, and was soon fast asleep.