Wide Courses Part 23

"Will I tell her you're comin' back, mister?"

"Tell who?"

"Why, that girl you was with."

"Tell her nothing. Nor"--Jan nodded his head toward the pool-room--"him.

Better go home. This is no place for a good boy like you."

Jan went out by the alley; and from there, after peeking to see that n.o.body was looking out of the pool-room windows, he stepped quickly up the front steps of the house.

Cautiously he unlocked the door. He could hear voices, but not distinctly. Quietly he tiptoed toward the head of the back stairs. It was Mrs. Goles who was talking.

"Didn't I warn you again and again never to bother him?" Jan heard.

"An' why not?"

"Why? He's a lodger--that's why."

"Is that why? Say, but ain't you takin' an awful sudden interest in yer lodgers though! Are yuh sure you don't want him for yerself? Are yuh sure he ain't something more than a lodger?"

"You--you--"

"Me--me! Yes, me. D'yuh think I ain't been onto yuh? D'yuh think I ain't seen any o' that billy-dooin'--you an' him upstairs in the entryway--huh? An' d'yuh think Hen ain't wise too? D'yuh think he gave me the top-floor room for nothin'--huh? Oh, yes; we're a couple o'

come-ons--Hen an' me--oh, yes! Run along now, Salomey--he's there, waitin' for me. D'yuh hear--waitin' for me! They all fall when yuh play 'em right. All of 'em. Thought yuh had'm to yerself--huh? Well, guess different next time; for he's out there waitin' for me--the soft-headed Dutchman! Beat it! Beat it when yer gettin' the worst of it. An' talk any more about a policeman--an' see what Hen says to it!"

Jan could hear Mrs. Goles ascending the stairs behind him. He hurried up, intending to get to his room and hide away before she knew, but it was the last key of the bunch which fitted the lock, and before he had the door opened she was up with him.

She turned the hall light up to see him better.

"Weren't you downstairs in the back room a minute ago?" she asked at last.

"I was; but--" Jan reached up a heavy hand and rubbed his forehead. "I was--I know I was; but--" somehow he was feeling bewildered.

She drew nearer to him.

"Come nearer the light. Stand where the light will be on your face. Let me see your eyes. There--you can't keep them open. Did you drink that second gla.s.s of ginger ale--after it was brought in all opened up?

Never mind trying to speak--just bow your head. You did? Oh, you poor innocent boy! Here--go into your room. And wait there. I'll be right back. Light the lamp if you can while you're waiting."

Jan managed to light the lamp.

She was soon back with a bowl of something hot which she held to Jan's lips--a nasty-tasting stuff. While he stopped once to get his breath she stepped to the door, took the key from the outside and set it on the inside. She stepped to Jan's side again. "Finish it!" she ordered.

"Every drop. There--but sh-h!--hear'em?"

"Hear what, ma'am?"

"The footsteps--coming upstairs. Creeping up. Hear 'em?" She stepped to the light and blew it out. She stepped to the door and turned the key.

"Oh-h!" Jan had fallen backward on the bed and now was rolling from side to side. His stomach was griping him like a burning hand.

"Hold in for a minute if you can!" she whispered

Nausea uncontrollable, as it seemed to Jan, was taking hold of him when a knock came on the door. "Sh-h!" she warned, and Jan controlled himself. He wanted more than ever to vomit, but there came another knock on the door--and another. And then the k.n.o.b was turned.

A silence then; and then a voice--a man's voice: "I told you you were crazy. He felt dizzy and went out into the street for some fresh air.

You shouldn't 've left him once he got the stuff into him. Take a look round the block. He's probably laying in the gutter somewhere with that load into him."

The voice stopped, footsteps followed, the stairs creaked. And Jan's tortured stomach was allowed its relief. And while he retched in the dark Mrs. Goles held his head and, soaking a towel in the water jar, bathed his forehead and face and neck, and kept wetting the towel and bathing his head with the cold water until at last, with a grateful sigh, Jan stood up and said:

"I think it's all gone now."

"That's good. So I'll be leaving you. And you--" They had been talking in whispers, but at this point her voice broke into a cough. When she spoke again her voice was husky and pitched in a higher key. "But you--listen! You must leave this house!"

"Why must I leave?"

"It's no place for you."

"And is it for you, ma'am?" he asked her.

"For me? No--nor for any woman. But I'm talking about you.

To-morrow--don't say a word to him downstairs--but to-morrow, when your week's up, take your grip and walk out."

"The day after to-morrow," amended Jan. "Tomorrow's Sat.u.r.day and I has to be at the dry dock. But what will become of you?"

"There'll nothing become of me--no more than before."

"He will beat you?"

"Beat me! If he don't any more than beat me!" Jan fancied she was smiling at him in the dark. "But I'd better go. Good-night."

"Good-night," said Jan. "And I'll see you to-morrow to say good-by."

"Yes," she said. "I'll be about. Good-night."

"Good-night," said Jan again, and found himself standing at the door after it had opened and closed behind her.

"I wonder," thought Jan, "if he will beat her!" And he stooped to lock the door. His hand was on the key, but he did not turn it. Who was that?

Jan had keen hearing. He jammed his ear against the crack. It was the sound of breathing, heavy breathing, of breathing and tramping, and now--Jan had been listening for perhaps a minute--of suppressed voices.

Jan stepped back to the washstand and poured out a gla.s.s of water. He took it at a gulp. He had another. It was cold and bracing to his fevered stomach. He stepped to the door, cautiously turned the k.n.o.b and slowly drew the door to him. He peeped out.

Under the hall light he saw them--she jammed back against the stair-rail and he with his hands at her throat. His back was to Jan.

"Where is it? Come--give up!" he was saying. Jan could not hear what she said; but the man took a fresh grip and shook her. "Don't tell me anything like that! You gave in at last and got the money off him. Give it up!"

"I did not! I'm not that kind of a woman--not yet. I may be yet if you keep on--but I'm not yet. And he's not that kind of a man."

"You're not? And he's not? And you an hour in his room with the door locked! You got money off him! Give it to me!"