"Now, Charley," he said, cheerfully, "your bat's over, ain't it, old man?"
"Say, you been darn' decent to me, old man. Lord! how you've been sweeping up! How was I-was I pretty soused?"
"Honest, you were fierce. You will sober up, now, won't you?"
"Well, it's no wonder I had a classy hang-over, Wrenn. I was at the Amusieren Rathskeller till four this morning, and then I had a couple of nips before breakfast, and then I didn't have any breakfast. But sa-a-a-ay, man, I sure did have some fiesta last night. There was a little peroxide blonde that-"
"Now you look here, Carpenter; you listen to me. You're sober now. Have you tried to find another job?"
"Yes, I did. But I got down in the mouth. Didn't feel like I had a friend left."
"Well, you h-"
"But I guess I have now, old Wrennski."
"Look here, Charley, you know I don't want to pull off no Charity Society stunt or talk like I was a preacher. But I like you so darn much I want to see you sober up and get another job. Honestly I do, Charley. Are you broke?"
"Prett' nearly. Only got about ten dollars to my name.... I will take a brace, old man. I know you ain't no preacher. Course if you came around with any `holierthan-thou' stunt I'd have to go right out and get soused on general principles.... Yuh-I'll try to get a job."
"Here's ten dollars. Please take it-aw-please, Charley."
"All right; anything to oblige."
"What 've you got in sight in the job line?"
"Well, there's a chance at night clerking in a little hotel where I was a bell-hop long time ago. The night clerk's going to get through, but I don't know just when-prob'ly in a week or two."
"Well, keep after it. And please come down to see me-the old place-West Sixteenth Street."
"What about the old girl with the ingrowing grouch? What's her name? She ain't stuck on me."
"Mrs. Zapp? Oh-hope she chokes. She can just kick all she wants to. I'm just going to have all the visitors I want to."
"All right. Say, tell us something about your trip."
"Oh, I had a great time. Lots of nice fellows on the cattle-boat. I went over on one, you know. Fellow named Morton-awfully nice fellow. Say, Charley, you ought to seen me being butler to the steers. Handing 'em hay. But say, the sea was fine; all kinds of colors. Awful dirty on the cattle-boat, though."
"Hard work?"
"Yuh-kind of hard. Oh, not so very."
"What did you see in England?"
"Oh, a lot of different places. Say, I seen some great vaudeville in Liverpool, Charley, with Morton-he's a slick fellow; works for the Pennsylvania, here in town. I got to look him up. Say, I wish we had an agency for college sofa-pillows and banners and souvenir stuff in Oxford. There's a whole bunch of colleges there, all right in the same town. I met a prof. there from some American college-he hired an automobubble and took me down to a reg'lar old inn-"
"Well, well!"
"-like you read about; sanded floor!"
"Get to London?"
"Yuh. Gee! it's a big place. Say, that Westminster Abbey's a great place. I was in there a couple of times. More darn tombs of kings and stuff. And I see a bishop, with leggins on! But I got kind of lonely. I thought of you a lot of times. Wished we could go out and get an ale together. Maybe pick up a couple of pretty girls."
"Oh, you sport!... Say, didn't get over to gay Paree, did you?"
"Nope.... Well, I guess I'd better beat it now. Got to move in-I'm at a hotel. You will come down and see me to-night, won't you?"
"So you thought of me, eh?... Yuh-sure, old socks. I'll be down to-night. And I'll get right after that job."
It is doubtful whether Mr. Wrenn would ever have returned to the Zapps' had he not promised to see Charley there. Even while he was carrying his suit-case down West Sixteenth, broiling by degrees in the sunshine, he felt like rushing up to Charley's and telling him to come to the hotel instead.
Lee Theresa, taking the day off with a headache, answered the bell, and ejaculated:
"Well! So it's you, is it?"
"I guess it is."
"What, are you back so soon? Why, you ain't been gone more than a month and a half, have you?"
Beware, daughter of Southern pride! The little Yankee is regarding your full-blown curves and empty eyes with rebellion, though he says, ever so meekly:
"Yes, I guess it is about that, Miss Theresa."
"Well, I just knew you couldn't stand it away from us. I suppose you'll want your room back. Ma, here's Mr. Wrenn back again-Mr. Wrenn! Ma!"
"Oh-h-h-h!" sounded Goaty Zapp's voice, in impish disdain, below. "Mr. Wrenn's back. Hee, hee! Couldn't stand it. Ain't that like a Yankee!"
A slap, a wail, then Mrs. Zapp's elephantine slowness on the stairs from the basement. She appeared, buttoning her collar, smiling almost pleasantly, for she disliked Mr. Wrenn less than she did any other of her lodgers.
"Back already, Mist' Wrenn? Ah declare, Ah was saying to Lee Theresa just yest'day, Ah just knew you'd be wishing you was back with us. Won't you come in?"
He edged into the parlor with, "How is the sciatica, Mrs. Zapp?"
"Ah ain't feeling right smart."
"My room occupied yet?"
He was surveying the airless parlor rather heavily, and his curt manner was not pleasing to the head of the house of Zapp, who remarked, funereally:
"It ain't taken just now, Mist' Wrenn, but Ah dunno. There was a gennulman a-looking at it just yesterday, and he said he'd be permanent if he came. Ah declare, Mist' Wrenn, Ah dunno's Ah like to have my gennulmen just get up and go without giving me notice."
Lee Theresa scowled at her.
Mr. Wrenn retorted, "I did give you notice."
"Ah know, but-well, Ah reckon Ah can let you have it, but Ah'll have to have four and a half a week instead of four. Prices is all going up so, Ah declare, Ah was just saying to Lee T'resa Ah dunno what we're all going to do if the dear Lord don't look out for us. And, Mist' Wrenn, Ah dunno's Ah like to have you coming in so late nights. But Ah reckon Ah can accommodate you."
"It's a good deal of a favor, isn't it, Mrs. Zapp?"
Mr. Wrenn was dangerously polite. Let gentility look out for the sharp practices of the Yankee.
"Yes, but-"
It was our hero, our madman of the seven and seventy seas, our revolutionist friend of Istra, who leaped straight from the salt-incrusted decks of his laboring steamer to the musty parlor and declared, quietly but unmovably-practically unmovably-"Well, then, I guess I'd better not take it at all."
"So that's the way you're going to treat us!" bellowed Mrs. Zapp. "You go off and leave us with an unoccupied room and- Oh! You poor white trash-you-"
"Ma! You shut up and go down-stairs-s-s-s-s!" Theresa hissed. "Go on."
Mrs. Zapp wabbled regally out. Lee Theresa spoke to Mr. Wrenn:
"Ma ain't feeling a bit well this afternoon. I'm sorry she talked like that. You will come back, won't you?" She showed all her teeth in a genuine smile, and in her anxiety reached his heart. "Remember, you promised you would."
"Well, I will, but-"
Bill Wrenn was fading, an affrighted specter. The "but" was the last glimpse of him, and that Theresa overlooked, as she bustlingly chirruped: "I knew you would understand. I'll skip right up and look at the room and put on fresh sheets."
One month, one hot New York month, passed before the imperial Mr. Guilfogle gave him back The Job, and then at seventeen dollars and fifty cents a week instead of his former nineteen dollars. Mr. Wrenn refused, upon pretexts, to go out with the manager for a drink, and presented him with twenty suggestions for new novelties and circular letters. He rearranged the unsystematic methods of Jake, the cub, and two days later he was at work as though he had never in his life been farther from the Souvenir Company than Newark.