talk a little and walk a little and take a great interest in things.
His walking was a bit amateurish, and his speech rather hard to follow
unless you had the key to it. But nobody could have denied that his
walk, though staggery, was a genuine walk, and his speech, though
limited, genuine speech, within the meaning of the act.
He made no objections to the expedition. On being told that he was
going to see his grandpa he nodded curtly and said: 'Gwa-wah,' after
his custom. For, as a conversationalist, perhaps the best description
of him is to say that he tried hard. He rarely paused for a word. When
in difficulties he said something; he did not seek refuge in silence.
That the something was not always immediately intelligible was the
fault of his audience for not listening more carefully.
Perhaps the real mistake of the expedition was the nature of its
baggage. William Bannister had stood out for being allowed to take with
him his wheelbarrow, his box of bricks, and his particular favourite,
the dying pig, which you blew out and then allowed to collapse with a
pleasing noise. These properties had struck his parents as excessive,
but he was firm; and when he gave signs of being determined to fight it
out on these lines if it took all the summer, they gave in.
Steve had no difficulty in smuggling William into his grandfather's
house. He was a great favourite below stairs there. His great ally was
the English butler, Keggs.
Keggs was a stout, dignified, pigeon-toed old sinner, who cast off the
butler when not on duty and displayed himself as something of a
rounder. He was a man of many parts. It was his chief relaxation to
look in at Broadway hotels while some big fight was in progress out
West to watch the ticker and assure himself that the man he had backed
with a portion of the loot which he had accumulated in the form of tips
was doing justice to his judgment, for in private Keggs was essentially
the sport.
It was this that so endeared Steve to him. A few years ago Keggs had
won considerable sums by backing Steve, and the latter was always given
to understand that, as far as the lower regions of it were concerned,
the house on Fifth Avenue was open to him at all hours.
To-day he greeted Steve with enthusiasm and suggested a cigar in the
pantry before the latter should proceed to his work.
'He ain't ready for you yet, Mr. Dingle. He's lookin' over some papers
in, for goodness' sake, who's this?'
He had caught sight of William Bannister, who having wriggled free of
Steve, was being made much of by the maids.
'The kid,' said Steve briefly.
'Not…… '
Steve nodded.
'Sure. His grandson.'
Keggs' solemnity increased.
'You aren't going to take him upstairs with you?'
'Surest thing you know. That's why I brought him.'
'Don't you do it, Mr. Dingle. 'E's in an awful temper this morning, he
gets worse and worse, he'll fire you as soon as look at you.'
