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She liked him, too, because it was rare for a man to offer her friendship without making love, and she was certain he would not make love. He liked her for the same many reasons that every one else did because she was herself. Of late, too, he had met a number of men at Lescott's clubs.
Lescott's mind began piecing together fragments of conversation he had heard, until he had assembled a sort of mental jig-saw puzzle. The South-Hollman feud had been mentioned by the more talkative of his informers, and carefully tabooed by others notable among them his host of last night.
It requires at least two perfectly good hands. Many people don't find two enough." "But hit only takes one ter do the paintin', don't hit?" "Yes." "Well" the boy spoke diffidently but with enthusiasm "between the two of us, we've got three hands. I reckon ye kin larn me how ter do them other things fer ye." Lescott's surprise showed in his face, and the lad swept eagerly on.
Then it was that Farbish dropped in with marching orders, and Samson, yearning to be away where there were open skies, packed George Lescott's borrowed paraphernalia, and prepared to leave that same night. While he was packing, the telephone rang, and Samson heard Adrienne's voice at the other end of the wire. "Where have you been hiding?" she demanded.
Lescott's voice became more cordial, as a man's will whose hobby has been touched. "There are several canvases to be finished for approaching exhibitions. I wish I could go. When the first cold winds begin to sweep down, I get the fever. The prospects are good, too, I understand." "The best in years! Protection in the Canadian breeding fields is bearing fruit. Do you shoot ducks, Mr. South?"
I wish I could see Mr. South, and thank him." Lescott's manner over the telephone was indicating to a surprised desk sergeant a decidedly greater interest than had been anticipated, and, after a brief and pointed conversation in that quarter, he called another number.
Samson had hesitatingly taken the gloved hand, and its grasp was firm and strong despite its ridiculous smallness. "I reckon he'll be back presently." The boy was in doubt as to the proper procedure. This was Lescott's studio, and he was not certain whether or not it lay in his province to invite Lescott's sister to take possession of it. Possibly, he ought to withdraw.
"You simply 'got in bad' through your failure to understand conditions here," laughed the lawyer. "I guess we can pull you through, but in future you'll have to submit to some guidance, my boy." And Samson, rather to Lescott's surprise, nodded his head with only a ghost of resentment. From friends, he was willing to learn.
Before the daylight came he had seen the stars through its panes. Lescott's servant, temporarily assigned to the studio, was still sleeping when Samson dressed and went out. As he put on his clothes, he followed his custom of strapping the pistol-holster under his left armpit outside his shirt. He did it with no particular thought and from force of habit.
If Farbish should presume to renew the acquaintanceship under these circumstances, Samson meant to rise from his chair, and strike him in the face. George Lescott's sister could not be subjected to such meetings.
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