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It was uncomfortably puzzling. His own disposition made it impossible for him to probe the possibilities of such a nature as Jim's. He could not answer his question, and it left him with a feeling of apprehension which no prospect of violence could have inspired in him.
You're younger, too." "She's got a wad of her own. A thousand dollars," added Will. His remark was unpleasing, and Jim's eyes grew colder. "That don't cut any figure. That's hers," he said sharply. "But it's useful " "To her maybe." The flow of their talk dried up again. They could make no headway in clearing up their dilemma.
Apart in the ladies' room at Snowdon depot, a veiled figure sat Dr. Richards' deserted wife waiting for him, waiting to look on his face once more ere she fled she knew not whither. He came at last, Jim's voice speaking to his horses heralding his approach.
He had very definite reasons for wishing to give her the news himself. He felt that Peter was too convinced of Jim's innocence, judging by his defense of him in the saloon, to be a safe person to carry Eve the news. He was thinking of his own safety, and his distorted mind was at work gauging Peter from his own standpoint. He felt he must avoid Peter for the present. Peter was too shrewd.
If "some of the servants" had been found, this unprecedented plan would have met with due interference; but it so happened, that they were all scattered at their various avocations in different parts of the house, and none were in the kitchen save old Mary Jane, to whom Daisy knew better than to appeal on behalf of any interests of Jim's.
Frank never forgot that one fight of Jim's. He shot head and shoulders over his friend and filled out beyond all recognition and took his turn at fighting. And most of his battles then as now were over little Jim Tumley. To Frank, Jim was the one great friend life had given him.
Jim's first impulse had been to assist his departure with his boot, but after his leg had got half-way into the air he recovered his senses, and then angrily turned and walked down the avenue. Once around the corner of an intersecting street he stopped, got out of the line of traffic, and despite the coldness of the day, removed his hat and wiped moisture from his forehead.
Jim's intention had been to clear out, but the trick proved so screamingly funny that he stood for a minute to enjoy the scene. Shelves had fallen and glasses had broken, but no person had been hurt. There was a moment's uncertainty; then with an angry shout the enraged patrons of the Dummer House swept forward. Jim discreetly fled.
He felt that Hector Roscoe was rushing on his fate. "I advise you to come," he said, "Jim's mad with you already, and he'll lick you worse if you send him a message like that." "He will probably have to take blows, as well as give them," said Hector. "Then I am to tell him what you said?" "Of course." With a look that seemed to say, "Your fate be on your own head!" Bates walked away.
Neither the boy nor the girl spoke again for some minutes. There was a breath of danger in the very air, and every few moments the earth would shake violently. Jim's ears were standing erect upon his head and every muscle of his big body was tense as he trotted toward home. He was not going very fast, but on his flanks specks of foam began to appear and at times he would tremble like a leaf.
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