"Thank you," said André François' father gravely, and he took and pocketed the dollar.
As Jimmie was about to leave the office he put out a detaining hand.
"Oh, by the way," he remarked, with elaborate casuality, "you said something of a circus in Briggs' lot—I can't get away myself, at present, but if you'd take this and go, and let me know if there is anything good, you'd oblige me greatly."
Jimmie McCarthy left the office of the White Star with his ethics and his honor satisfied, and with a dollar in the pocket of his blue overalls.
Thus was enacted the preliminary part of the plot to Americanize André François, fils.
The following afternoon the manager of the White Star sat at his office desk, a file of papers before him. But his attention wavered, and the nearer the clock hands drew to three, the less grew his concentration upon the file. At last the expected happened. The ground-glass door burst open, and in rushed the immaculate Angélique, her entire person in such dishevelment as the Rue St. Honoré had never seen. Her cap hung by one pin from her black hair, her ruffled swiss apron was under one arm. By the hand she dragged after her the panting André François. His hat was gone, his hair wet, his white sailor suit streaked terra cotta from the clayey mud of the street. His red tie, however, still made a brave flare of color under one ear.
"Father," he said in a high, excited voice, "I have been attacked!"
Angélique motioned him to be quiet.
"Oh, Monsieur Bir-on, oh, sair," she burst out, her round eyes becoming perfect spheres in her excitement, "Monsieur André François have been attack'. I have jus' stop to spik to a gentleman for a so leetle moment—when I look a-r-r-ound and zee thees so ter-r-ible boy make the tackle at Monsieur André François' legs. And nex'—O, ciel! I zee Monsieur André François high in the air, and then—splash! Quelle horreur! down in the depths of the mud pud-dle, and thees boy r-r-ool heem r-round an' r-round an' r-r-round. Barbare! Sauvage!" Angélique's voice broke, and she buried her face in her abbreviated apron to shut out the memory of a sight so uncivilized.
"Father," said André François, trembling with passion, "you will have him punished at once—publicly, so that every one may know that the indignity has been wiped out?"