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So, that leaves just the four of us here, working off the two days' board bill of Bradley and the manager, Rushcroft's ungodly spree, and at the same time keeping our own slate clean. Miss Thackeray will no doubt make up your bed in the morning. She is temporarily a chambermaid. Cracking fine girl, too, if I do say " "Miss Thackeray? I don't recall your mentioning "
Barnes had been immersed in his own thoughts for some time. A slight frown, as of reflection, darkened his eyes. Suddenly, perhaps impolitely, he interrupted Mr. Rushcroft's flow of eloquence. "Have you any objection, Mr. Rushcroft, to a more or less personal question concerning your own private er misfortunes?" he asked, leaning forward. For a moment one could have heard a pin drop. Mr.
Not the man the book was written about, but one of the best fellows God ever put into this little world of ours. I do not recall your names, gentlemen, or I would introduce each of you separately and divisibly. And when did you leave New York, my dear fellow?" "A fortnight ago," replied Barnes. "I have been walking for the past two weeks." Mr. Rushcroft's expression changed. His face fell.
Dear old girl, he would as soon have cut off his right hand as to break any promise made to her. He brushed something away from his eyes, and his chin, contracting, trembled slightly. "Quite right," said Barnes, sympathetically. "And how long has Mrs. Rushcroft been dead?" A hurt, incredulous look came into Mr. Rushcroft's eyes.
"Mercedes Thackeray on the programme, but in real life, as they say, Emma Smith. She is Rushcroft's daughter." "Somewhat involved, isn't it?" "Not in the least. Rushcroft's real name is Otterbein Smith. Horrible, isn't it? He sprung from some place in Indiana, where the authors come from. Miss Thackeray was our ingenue.
More than once she had confessed to Mr. Rushcroft that she hated like poison to write out the bill-o'-fare, a duty devolving solely upon her, it appears, because of a local tradition that she possessed literary talent. Every one said that she wrote the best hand in the county. Mr. Rushcroft's conception of a bite or two may have staggered Barnes but it did not bewilder Miss Tilly.
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