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So I slides out and boards a Columbus Avenue surface car, and inside of twenty minutes I'm at Auntie's apartments, interviewin' Helma, her original bonehead maid. No, Miss Verona wasn't at home. She'd gone for her morning ride in the park. Also Auntie was out. "So early as this?" says I. "When did Auntie get away?" "Before breakfast yet," says Helma.
Again Bessy Bell refused to get up from the lounge. The youth was insistent. He pawed at her. And manifestly she did not like that, for her face flamed, and she snapped: "Stop it you bonehead! Can't you see I want to sit here by Mr. Lane?" The youth slouched away fuming to himself. Whereupon Lane got up, and seated himself beside Bessy so that he need not shout to be heard.
All our folks was a long time in America, an' I for one won't stand for a lot of fat Germans an' greasy Russian Jews tellin' me how to run my country when they can't speak English yet." "Your country!" Bert cried. "Why, you bonehead, you ain't got a country. That's a fairy story the grafters shove at you every time they want to rob you some more."
The boys are pretty sore at you because of what you did that night. I shouldn't act like a bonehead, sonny honest. There was a kindly ring in his voice which rather touched me. Between him and me there had sprung up an odd sort of friendship. He meant business; but he would, I knew, be genuinely sorry if I came to harm.
"Your mother was not your mother," said the Old Lawyer gravely. "Nay, nay, do not question me. There is a dark secret about your birth." "Alas," said Winnifred, wringing her hands, "I am, then, alone in the world and penniless." "You are," said Mr. Bonehead, deeply moved. "You are, unfortunately, thrown upon the world.
If any one of you hadn't 'come through' at the same second, the jig would have been up. Who figured it out?" "Here's the slow thinker that did it," said Dick, clapping Bert on the shoulder. "That's the bonehead, sure enough," echoed Tom. "Oh, come off," growled Bert, flushing a little and fidgeting uneasily in his seat. "There was a whole lot of luck about it, anyway.
Cappy and Matt cried in chorus. "I I don't know," Skinner faltered. "I just didn't have the courage to pursue the matter further. The British consul said she was captured but as for con " "Idiot! Bonehead!" rasped Cappy. "My Narcissus is gone gone! Oh, Lord! Matt, you ring up the British consul I'm an old man Skinner, my dear chap, forgive my harsh language.
"But what are we going to do about it?" Saxon questioned anxiously. "Fight. That's all. The country's in the hands of a gang of robbers. Look at the Southern Pacific. It runs California." "Aw, rats, Bert," Billy interrupted. "You're takin' through your lid. No railroad can ran the government of California." "You're a bonehead," Bert sneered.
It's funny, if you look at it properly. Take my own case. The superficial observer, who is apt to be a bonehead, would say that I ought to be singing psalms of joy. I am married to the woman I wanted to marry. I have a son who, not to be fulsome, is a perfectly good sort of son. I have no financial troubles. I eat well. I have ceased to tremble when I see a job of work.
I was only afraid I'd have to go, with all this inside work to be done." "Humph!" says he. "You needn't fear. I shall see that nothing of the sort happens." "Ah, you're a bird, you are!" says I. "Perhaps," says Piddie. "Then climb a tree and twitter," says I; for it made me grouchy to think I'd let a bonehead like him get a rise out of me.
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