Phil, the Fiddler Part 20

"In course I have. Don't you see it?" pointing to an imposing-looking structure in front of which they were just pa.s.sing. "My clerks is all hard to work in there, while I go out to take the air for the benefit of my const.i.tushun."

Phil looked puzzled, not quite understanding d.i.c.k's chaffing, and looked rather inquiringly at the blacking box, finding it a little difficult to understand why a banker on so large a scale should be blacking boots in the street.

"s.h.i.+ne your boots, sir?" said d.i.c.k to a gentleman just pa.s.sing.

"Not now; I'm in a hurry."

"Blackin' boots is good exercise," continued d.i.c.k, answering the doubt in Phil's face. "I do it for the benefit of my health, thus combinin'

profit with salubriousness."

"I can't understand such long words," said Phil. "I don't know much English."

"I would talk to you in Italian," said d.i.c.k, "only it makes my head ache. What's come of your fiddle? You haven't sold it, and bought Erie shares, have you?"

"A boy stole it from me, and broke it."

"I'd like to lick him. Who was it?"

"I think his name was Tim Rafferty."

"I know him," said d.i.c.k. "I'll give him a lickin' next time I see him."

"Can you?" asked Phil, doubtfully, for his enemy was as large as d.i.c.k.

"In course I can. My fists are like sledge-hammers. Jest feel my muscle."

d.i.c.k straightened out his arm, and Phil felt of the muscle, which was hard and firm.

"It's as tough as a ten-year-old chicken," said d.i.c.k. "It won't be healthy for Tim to come round my way. What made him steal your fiddle?

He ain't goin' into the musical line, is he?"

"He was angry because I didn't want to lend it to him."

Just then Tim Rafferty himself turned the corner. There was a lull in his business, and he was wandering along the street eating an apple.

"There he is," said Phil, suddenly espying his enemy.

d.i.c.k looked up, and saw with satisfaction that Phil was right. Tim had not yet espied either, nor did he till d.i.c.k addressed him.

"Are you round collectin' fiddles this mornin'?" he asked.

Tim looked up, and, seeing that his victim had found an able champion, felt anxious to withdraw. He was about to turn back, but d.i.c.k advanced with a determined air.

"Jest stop a minute, Tim Rafferty," said he. "I'm a-goin' to intervoo you for the Herald. That's what they do with all the big rascals nowadays."

"I'm in a hurry," said Tim.

"That's what the pickpocket said when the cop was gently persuadin' him to go to the Tombs, but the cop didn't see it. I want the pleasure of your society a minute or two. I hear you're in the music business."

"No, I'm not," said Tim, shortly.

"What made you borrer this boy's fiddle, then?"

"I don't know anything about it," said Tim, in a fright.

"Some folks forgets easy," returned d.i.c.k. "I know a man what went into Tiffany's and took up a watch to look at, and carried it off, forgettin'

to pay for it. That's what he told the judge the next day, and the judge sent him to the island for a few months to improve his memory. The air over to the island is very good to improve the memory."

"You ought to know," said Tim, sullenly; "you've been there times enough."

"Have I?" said d.i.c.k. "Maybe you saw me there. Was it the ninth time you were there, or the tenth?"

"I never was there," said Tim.

"Maybe it was your twin brother." suggested d.i.c.k. "What made you break my friend's fiddle? He wouldn't have minded it so much, only it belonged to his grandfather, a n.o.ble count, who made boots for a livin'."

"I don't believe he had a fiddle at all," said Tim.

"That's where your forgetfulness comes in," said d.i.c.k "Have you forgot the lickin' I gave you last summer for stealin' my blackin' box?"

"You didn't lick me," said Tim.

"Then I'll lick you harder next time," said d.i.c.k.

"You ain't able," said Tim, who, glancing over his shoulder, saw the approach of a policeman, and felt secure.

"I will be soon," said d.i.c.k, who also observed the approach of the policeman. "I'd do it now, only I've got to buy some gold for a friend of mine. Just let me know when it's perfectly convenient to take a lickin'."

Tim shuffled off, glad to get away unharmed, and d.i.c.k turned to Phil.

"I'll give him a lickin' the first time I catch him, when there isn't a cop around," he said.

Phil left his friend at this point, for he saw by the clock on Trinity spire that it was time to go back to join Paul Hoffman, as he had agreed. I may here add that Phil's wrongs were avenged that same evening, his friend, d.i.c.k, administered to Tim the promised "lickin'"

with such good effect that the latter carried a black eye for a week afterwards.

CHAPTER XV

PHIL'S NEW PLANS

As the clock struck twelve Phil reached the necktie stand of his friend, Paul Hoffman.

"Just in time," said Paul. "Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"That's right. You're going to dine with me; and I want you to bring a good appet.i.te with you."