“That’s what made it delicate to pay for the passage——”
Ferry was broken-nerved. He suggested buying a drink, as a child who has learned a fancied trick of men.
And Morning drank. Noyes glanced at Field, who had suddenly become pale and anxious with a story-idea. He was at work—drink-clouds shoved back and all the exterior enthusiasm—fresh as after a night’s rest. He was on a new story.
Ferry went away and Morning looked at the clock. Only five minutes of his life had been used in this important transaction. Nevin had not come—Nevin who had lost his berth, thrown over his own work for him.... There would be no more Nevin on the Sickles. Would he come East?
“Oh, I say, Field—drop the Ferry end of the story,” Morning said.
“Sure,” said Field glibly.
“Nothing to it,” said Noyes.
Morning was too tired to go further, though he felt their lie.
“But, Nevin,” he said to Noyes.
“I’ll have him found to-morrow. That’s the big local thing to-morrow.”