“No. I don’t. When he could be a decent prize-fighter, and not have to go around with angleworms like Eddie Fislinger day after day!”
And thus till midnight, for all Jim’s fevers.
But Elmer was at Judson Roberts’ meeting next evening, unprotected by Jim, who remained at home in so vile a temper that Elmer had sent in a doctor and sneaked away from the room for the afternoon.
II
It was undoubtedly Eddie who wrote or telegraphed to Mrs. Gantry that she would do well to be present at the meeting. Paris was only forty miles from Gritzmacher Springs.
Elmer crept into his room at six, still wistfully hoping to have Jim’s sanction, still ready to insist that if he went to the meeting he would be in no danger of conversion. He had walked miles through the slush, worrying. He was ready now to give up the meeting, to give up Judson’s friendship, if Jim should insist.
As he wavered in, Mrs. Gantry stood by Jim’s lightning-shot bed.
“Why, Ma! What you doing here? What’s gone wrong?” Elmer panted.
It was impossible to think of her taking a journey for anything less than a funeral.
Cozily, “Can’t I run up and see my two boys if I want to, Elmy? I declare, I believe you’d of killed Jim, with all this nasty tobacco air, if I hadn’t come in and aired the place out. I thought, Elmer Gantry, you weren’t supposed to smoke in Terwillinger! By the rules of the college! I thought, young man, that you lived up to ’em! But never mind.”