The Turmoil Part 42

"Bibbs," he said, "I don't like to b.u.t.t in very often this way, and when I do I usually wish I hadn't--but for Heaven's sake what have you been buying that ole busted inter-traction stock for?"

Bibbs leaned back from his desk. "For eleven hundred and fifty-five dollars. That's all it cost."

"Well, it ain't worth eleven hundred and fifty-five cents. You ought to know that. I don't get your idea. That stuff's deader'n Adam's cat!"

"It might be worth something--some day."

"How?"

"It mightn't be so dead--not if we went into it," said Bibbs, coolly.

"Oh!" Sheridan considered this musingly; then he said, "Who'd you buy it from?"

"A broker--Fansmith."

"Well, he must 'a' got it from one o' the crowd o' poor ninnies that was soaked with it. Don't you know who owned it?"

"Yes, I do."

"Ain't sayin', though? That it? What's the matter?"

"It belonged to Mr. Vertrees," said Bibbs, shortly, applying himself to his desk.

"So!" Sheridan gazed down at his son's thin face. "Excuse me," he said.

"Your business." And he went back to his own room. But presently he looked in again.

"I reckon you won't mind lunchin' alone to-day"--he was shuffling himself into his overcoat--"because I just thought I'd go up to the house and get THIS over with mamma." He glanced apologetically toward his right hand as it emerged from the sleeve of the overcoat. The bandages had been removed, finally, that morning, revealing but three fingers--the forefinger and the finger next to it had been amputated.

"She's bound to make an awful fuss, and better to spoil her lunch than her dinner. I'll be back about two."

But he calculated the time of his arrival at the New House so accurately that Mrs. Sheridan's lunch was not disturbed, and she was rising from the lonely table when he came into the dining-room. He had left his overcoat in the hall, but he kept his hands in his trousers pockets.

"What's the matter, papa?" she asked, quickly. "Has anything gone wrong?

You ain't sick?"

"Me!" He laughed loudly. "Me SICK?"

"You had lunch?"

"Didn't want any to-day. You can give me a cup o' coffee, though."

She rang, and told George to have coffee made, and when he had withdrawn she said querulously, "I just know there's something wrong."

"Nothin' in the world," he responded, heartily, taking a seat at the head of the table. "I thought I'd talk over a notion o' mine with you, that's all. It's more women-folks' business than what it is man's, anyhow."

"What about?"

"Why, ole Doc Gurney was up at the office this morning awhile--"

"To look at your hand? How's he say it's doin'?"

"Fine! Well, he went in and sat around with Bibbs awhile--"

Mrs. Sheridan nodded pessimistically. "I guess it's time you had him, too. I KNEW Bibbs--"

"Now, mamma, hold your horses! I wanted him to look Bibbs over BEFORE anything's the matter. You don't suppose I'm goin' to take any chances with BIBBS, do you? Well, afterwards, I shut the door, and I an' ole Gurney had a talk. He's a mighty disagreeable man; he rubbed it in on me what he said about Bibbs havin' brains if he ever woke up. Then I thought he must want to get something out o' me, he go so flattering--for a minute! 'Bibbs couldn't help havin' business brains,'

he says, 'bein' YOUR son. Don't be surprised,' he says--'don't be surprised at his makin' a success,' he says. 'He couldn't get over his heredity; he couldn't HELP bein' a business success--once you got him into it. It's in his blood. Yes, sir' he says, 'it doesn't need MUCH brains,' he says, 'an only third-rate brains, at that,' he says, 'but it does need a special KIND o' brains,' he says, 'to be a millionaire.

I mean,' he says, 'when a man's given a start. If n.o.body gives him a start, why, course he's got to have luck AND the right kind o' brains.

The only miracle about Bibbs,' he says, 'is where he got the OTHER kind o' brains--the brains you made him quit usin' and throw away.'"

"But what'd he say about his health?" Mrs. Sheridan demanded, impatiently, as George placed a cup of coffee before her husband.

Sheridan helped himself to cream and sugar, and began to sip the coffee.

"I'm comin' to that," he returned, placidly. "See how easy I manage this cup with my left hand, mamma?"

"You been doin' that all winter. What did--"

"It's wonderful," he interrupted, admiringly, "what a fellow can do with his left hand. I can sign my name with mine now, well's I ever could with my right. It came a little hard at first, but now, honest, I believe I RATHER sign with my left. That's all I ever have to write, anyway--just the signature. Rest's all dictatin'." He blew across the top of the cup unctuously. "Good coffee, mamma! Well, about Bibbs. Ole Gurney says he believes if Bibbs could somehow get back to the state o'

mind he was in about the machine-shop--that is, if he could some way get to feelin' about business the way he felt about the shop--not the poetry and writin' part, but--" He paused, supplementing his remarks with a motion of his head toward the old house next door. "He says Bibbs is older and harder'n what he was when he broke down that time, and besides, he ain't the kind o' dreamy way he was then--and I should say he AIN'T! I'd like 'em to show ME anybody his age that's any wider awake! But he says Bibbs's health never need bother us again if--"

Mrs. Sheridan shook her head. "I don't see any help THAT way. You know yourself she wouldn't have Jim."

"Who's talkin' about her havin' anybody? But, my Lord! she might let him LOOK at her! She needn't 'a' got so mad, just because he asked her, that she won't let him come in the house any more. He's a mighty funny boy, and some ways I reckon he's pretty near as hard to understand as the Bible, but Gurney kind o' got me in the way o' thinkin' that if she'd let him come back and set around with her an evening or two sometimes--not reg'lar, I don't mean--why--Well, I just thought I'd see what YOU'D think of it. There ain't any way to talk about it to Bibbs himself--I don't suppose he'd let you, anyhow--but I thought maybe you could kind o' slip over there some day, and sort o' fix up to have a little talk with her, and kind o' hint around till you see how the land lays, and ask her--"

"ME!" Mrs. Sheridan looked both helpless and frightened. "No." She shook her head decidedly. "It wouldn't do any good."

"You won't try it?"

"I won't risk her turnin' me out o' the house. Some way, that's what I believe she did to Sibyl, from what Roscoe said once. No, I CAN'T--and, what's more, it'd only make things worse. If people find out you're runnin' after 'em they think you're cheap, and then they won't do as much for you as if you let 'em alone. I don't believe it's any use, and I couldn't do it if it was."

He sighed with resignation. "All right, mamma. That's all." Then, in a livelier tone, he said: "Ole Gurney took the bandages off my hand this morning. All healed up. Says I don't need 'em any more."

"Why, that's splendid, papa!" she cried, beaming. "I was afraid--Let's see."

She came toward him, but he rose, still keeping his hand in his pocket.

"Wait a minute," he said, smiling. "Now it may give you just a teeny bit of a shock, but the fact is--well, you remember that Sunday when Sibyl came over here and made all that fuss about nothin'--it was the day after I got tired o' that statue when Edith's telegram came--"

"Let me see your hand!" she cried.

"Now wait!" he said, laughing and pus.h.i.+ng her away with his left hand.

"The truth is, mamma, that I kind o' slipped out on you that morning, when you wasn't lookin', and went down to ole Gurney's office--he'd told me to, you see--and, well, it doesn't AMOUNT to anything." And he held out, for her inspection, the mutilated hand. "You see, these days when it's all dictatin', anyhow, n.o.body'd mind just a couple o'--"

He had to jump for her--she went over backward. For the second time in her life Mrs. Sheridan fainted.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

It was a full hour later when he left her lying upon a couch in her own room, still lamenting intermittently, though he a.s.sured her with heat that the "fuss" she was making irked him far more than his physical loss. He permitted her to think that he meant to return directly to his office, but when he came out to the open air he told the chauffeur in attendance to await him in front of Mr. Vertrees's house, whither he himself proceeded on foot.