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Jackson retreated until the marble-topped centre table formed a protecting barrier. "Don't you start no rough-house here, Mis' Tutts." Mrs. Tutts continued to advance and her lips had contracted as though an invisible gathering string had been jerked violently. "You gotta eat them words, Mis' Jackson." Unwavering purpose was in her voice. "I'll have the law on you if you begin a ruckus here." Mrs.
Tutts belligerently. "Look here, Mis' Tutts, I don't want to have no words with you, but " "What's that?" interrupted Mrs. Tutts eyeing the visiting card which Mrs. Jackson had been studying intently. "Is she leavin' tickets for somethin'?" "Oh, no," replied. Mrs. Jackson in a blasé tone, "this is merely her callin' card." "Callin' card! You was to home, wasn't you?"
"Because," answered the inspired Tutt with modesty, "I feel that with you I should be associated with a good name." That had settled the matter. They bore no relationship to one another, but they were the only Tutts in the city and there seemed to be a certain propriety in their hanging together.
While her husky rendition of the solo parts of certain anthems was strongly suggestive of the Bijou Theatre with its adjoining beer garden, her efforts were highly praised. This invitation demonstrated clearly that Mrs. Tutts was rising in the social scale. It was due to a suggestion from Dr. Harpe, made through Augusta, that Van Lennop also received his first social recognition in Crowheart.
"Who'd she say it about?" "Promise me that this won't go no further hope to die? but to tell the truth we was speakin' of Essie Tisdale." Mrs. Tutts looked mystified. "What's she done?" In unconscious imitation of Mrs. Symes, Mrs. Jackson curled her little finger and smiled a slow, deprecating smile "You see she works out she's really a servant." Mrs. Tutts nodded in entire comprehension.
She sank to the floor, but rose again, dazed and blinking, her warlike spirit temporarily crushed. "There's the door, Mis' Tutts." Mrs. Jackson drew herself up with regal hauteur and pointed. "Now get the hell out of here!"
Jackson, who rustled richly in the watered silk raincoat which advertised the fact that she was either going to or returning from a social function. Mrs. Jackson's raincoat was a sure signal of social activity. "Let's walk up clost along the fence and see how she's takin' it," suggested Mrs. Tutts amiably. "Gittin' the mitten is some of a pill to swaller. Don't you speak to her, Mis' Jackson?"
Tutts when he opened a book and sat down by the open window. A murmur of voices which began shortly underneath his window did not disturb him, though subconsciously he was aware that one of them belonged to Essie Tisdale. It was not until he heard his own name that he lifted his eyes from the interesting pages before him. "You lak him I t'ink dat loafer dat fellow Van Lennop?"
Abe Tutts to whom he owed $2500 for hay and grain waved a genial hand as he passed the door. "How goes it?" he called. "Great!" and the boastful reply sickened him. Great when he was ruined! It was the sentence "Something wrong" which gave Symes that weak feeling in his knees. To what did Mudge refer, to the stock and bondholders or to the project and himself?
"No doubt Guy will explain it to you in the morning. I say, Tommy, I have sometimes wondered whether I could depend on the friendship which you so often profess for me." The boy's face flushed, and he looked for a moment really hurt. "Tutts, Tommy, you're gettin' thin-skinned. I do but jest."
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