For a moment Spike looked wistful. Then his countenance resumed its woodenness. “Dere ain’t no use for me dis side, boss,” he said. “New York’s de spot. Youse don’t want none of me now you’re married. How’s Miss Molly, boss?”
“Splendid, Spike, thanks. We’re going over to France by tonight’s boat.
“It’s been a queer business,” said Jimmy, after a pause—“a deuced queer business. Still, I’ve come very well out of it, at any rate. It seems to me that you’re the only one of us who doesn’t end happily, Spike. I’m married. McEachern’s butted into society so deep that it would take an excavating party with dynamite to get him out of it. Molly—well, Molly’s made a bad bargain, but I hope she won’t regret it. We’re all going some, except you. You’re going out on the old trail again—which begins in Third Avenue and ends in Sing Sing. Why tear yourself away, Spike?”
Spike concentrated his gaze on a weedy young emigrant in a blue jersey, who was having his eye examined by the overworked doctor, and seemed to be resenting it.
“Dere’s nuttin’ doin’ dis side, boss,” he said at length. “I want to get busy.”
“Ulysses Mullins!” said Jimmy, looking at him curiously. “I know the feeling. There’s only one cure. I sketched it out for you once, but I doubt if you’ll ever take it. You don’t think a lot of women, do you? You’re the rugged bachelor.”
“Goils—!” began Spike comprehensively, and abandoned the topic without dilating on it further.
“Dose were great jools, boss,” said Spike thoughtfully.
“I believe you’re still brooding over them, Spike.”
“We could have got away wit dem, if you’d have stood for it—dead easy.”
“You are brooding over them. Spike, I’ll tell you something which will console you a little before you start out on your wanderings. It’s in confidence, so keep it dark. That necklace was paste.”
“What’s dat?”
“Nothing but paste. I spotted it directly you handed them to me. It wasn’t worth a hundred dollars.”
A light of understanding came into Spike’s eyes. His face beamed with the smile of one to whom dark matters are made clear.
“So dat’s why you wouldn’t stand for getting away wit it!” he exclaimed.
The last voyager had embarked. The deck was full to congestion.
“They’ll be sending us ashore in a minute,” said Jimmy. “I’d better be moving. Let me know how you’re getting on, Spike, from time to time. You know the address. And, I say, it’s just possible you may find you want a dollar or two every now and then—when you’re going to buy another aeroplane, for instance. Well, you know where to write to for it, don’t you?”
“T’anks, boss. But dat’ll be all right. I’m goin’ to sit in at anodder game dis time—politics, boss. A fr’en’ of a mug what I knows has gotten a pull. He’ll find me a job.”
“Politics!” said Jimmy. “I never thought of that. ‘My brother Dan is an alderman with a grip on the Seventh Ward!’ ” he quoted softly. “Why, you’ll be a boss before you know where you are.”
“Sure,” said Spike, grinning modestly.
“You ought to be a thundering success in American politics,” said Jimmy. “You’ve got all the necessary qualities.”
A steward passed.
“Any more for the shore?”
“Well, Spike—” said Jimmy.
“Goodbye, boss.”
“Goodbye,” said Jimmy. “And good luck.”
The sun had gone behind the clouds. As the ship slid out on its way a stray beam pierced the greyness.
It shone on a red head.
Colophon
A Gentleman of Leisure
was published in 1921 by
P. G. Wodehouse.
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