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His mother was not taken on the elephant drives into the jungles, so he never got a taste of this exciting sport. Mostly she was kept chained in the lines, and every day Langur Dass, the low-caste hillman in Dugan's employ, grubbed grass for her in the valleys.
"So Collier and me begins the race; the grub department lays in new supplies; Mame waits on us, jolly and kind and agreeable, and it looks like an even break, with Cupid and the cook working overtime in Dugan's restaurant. "'Twas one night in September when I got Mame to take a walk after supper when the things were all cleared away.
From Dugan's Danny turned back eastward. The April sun seemed to stir in him a vague feeling that he could not construe. He made a wrong diagnosis and decided that it was Katy Conlon. A block from her house on Avenue A he met her going to church. They pumped hands on the corner. "Gee! but you look dumpish and dressed up," said Katy. "What's wrong? Come away with me to church and be cheerful."
Out of an ever-vigilant eye-corner, he saw an automobile turn in at the gateway, two hundred yards up the wooded slope; and start down the drive. The Mistress and the Master were returning from the post office. Dugan's smile vanished. He stopped in his tracks; and did some fast thinking. Then, mounting the veranda steps, he knocked boldly at a side door; the door nearest to him.
Their conversation was in sentences so short that they made Kipling's seem as long as court citations. Having the temperament, they did no work. Any afternoon you could find them on Eighth Avenue either in front of Spinelli's barber shop, Mike Dugan's place, or the Limerick Hotel, rubbing their forefinger nails with dingy silk handkerchiefs.
"So Collier and me begins the race; the grub department lays in new supplies; Mame waits on us, jolly and kind and agreeable, and it looks like an even break, with Cupid and the cook working overtime in Dugan's restaurant. "'Twas one night in September when I got Mame to take a walk after supper when the things were all cleared away.
"Good ole Jim! Glad to see you! Hav' drink!" Tally nodded, and, to Bob's surprise, took his place at the bar. "Hav' 'nother!" cried Darrell. "God! I'm glad to see you! Nobody in town." "All right," agreed Tally pacifically; "but let's go across the river to Dugan's and get it." To this Darrell readily agreed. They left the saloon.
Then the face of his ten-year-old boy rose up before him, as it had appeared from the street as he was leaving his home that evening, all bruised and bleeding, with soiled and torn clothes, and he heard the brave child's explanation: "Mamma, I wouldn't 'ave fit, but Dugan's boy said my papa was a scab."
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