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I expect the Flopper will bring some friends with him, too, so's to make a nice little house-party I wrote him about it, and " Madison stopped abruptly. The Patriarch, evidently catching a movement of Madison's lips, was gesticulating violently toward his ears, while he smiled half tolerantly, half protestingly. Madison nodded quickly and smiled deprecatingly in return.
Madison's face was gray now as he walked up and down the room there was his own revulsion, his abhorrence at the part he had played, a frantic, honorable eagerness to be rid of it; there were these others too who looked to him, the Flopper and Pale Face Harry; and there was Helena! He did not dare to look at the misery in her face again he was unmanned enough now. And then Helena spoke.
The Flopper's black eyes contracted with hate and a scowl settled on his face, as he watched the policeman pass; then, as the other was lost again in the crowd ahead, he once more resumed his progress down the block. The Flopper crossed the intersecting street, his leg trailing a helpless, sinuous path on its not over-clean surface, and started along the next block.
And take the silver money out every time you see any in not that we scorn it in the great aggregate, far from it it's just psychology again, Flopper.
I wears a high polished lid an' a red tie, an' scatters simoleans outer de window in me travels to the gazaboes on de platforms as I pass an' den I joins Tammany Hall so's I can stick me fingers to me nose every time I sees a cop." "Flopper," said Doc Madison in an awed voice, "the honor is all mine."
"The Flopper's got an idea the corpse-preserver's business is dull, and he's going to help 'em out with two orders and pay for the flowers himself." Doc Madison shook his head and smiled a little grimly. "Forget it, Flopper!" he said crisply. "I've something better for you to do. You fade away, disappear and lay low from this minute.
"T'anks," said the Flopper. "Say, Helena, wot's de new lay de Doc has got up his sleeve?" Helena made no answer. "Is yer grouch painin' you so's yer tongue's hurt?" inquired the Flopper solicitously. Still no answer. "Well, go to the devil!" said the Flopper politely.
"Wot wot'll I do wid de Patriarch?" he stammered out miserably. And then Madison smiled at him not happily, but eloquently. "Swipe me!" mumbled the Flopper, as he backed out from the trellis. "Dis love game's fierce an' mabbe I don't know! 'Sposin' she'd been Mamie an' me the Doc 'sposin' it had!" He gulped hastily. "Swipe me!" said the Flopper with emotion.
Pale Face Harry's chair creaked, as, like the Flopper, he now crowded it in toward the table. "I get you!" said he feverishly. "I get you! I've read about them shrines only you gotter have churches, and a carload of crutches, and that sort of thing laying around." Doc Madison smiled pleasantly. "Yes; you've got me, Harry only we'll do the stage setting a little differently.
Robert Thornton, master of millions, hard-headed and practical for all his youth, leaned forward in his chair toward the Flopper. "Look here," he said bluntly, "you don't mean to say that you believe this seriously, do you?" "Oh, no!" said the Flopper softly. "Nothin' like dat! Of course I don't believe it! I'm only guyin' myself see?
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