章节正文
"I can't do anything, as you say," he stammered, "and it's sure
to get in the `extras,' and they'll be out in time to lose us
thousands of votes, and though no one is to blame, they're
sure to blame me. I don't care about myself," he added
eagerly, "but the very morning of election--half the city has
not voted yet--the Ticket----"
"Damn the Ticket!" exclaimed Winthrop. "The man's dead!
Peabody, burying his face still deeper in his collar, backed
into the crowd. In the present and past campaigns, from
carts and automobiles he had made many speeches in Harlem, and
on the West Side, lithographs of his stern, resolute features
hung in every delicatessen shop, and that he might be
recognized, was extremely likely.
He whispered to Miss Forbes what he had said, and what
Winthrop had said.
But you DON'T mean to leave him," remarked Miss Forbes.
"I must," returned Peabody. "I can do nothing for the man,
and you know how Tammany will use this--They'll have it on the
street by ten. They'll say I was driving recklessly; without
regard for human life. And, besides, they're waiting for me
at headquarters. Please hurry. I am late now."
Miss Forbes gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Why, I'm not going," she said.
"You must go! _I_ must go. You can't remain here alone."
Peabody spoke in the quick, assured tone that at the first had
convinced Miss Forbes his was a most masterful manner.
"Winthrop, too," he added, "wants you to go away."
Miss Forbes made no reply. But she looked at Peabody
inquiringly, steadily, as though she were puzzled as to his
identity, as though he had just been introduced to her. It
made him uncomfortable.
"Are you coming?" he asked.
Her answer was a question.
"Are you going?"
"I am!" returned Peabody. He added sharply: "I must."
"Good-by," said Miss Forbes.
As he ran up the steps to the station of the elevated, it
seemed to Peabody that the tone of her "good-by" had been most
unpleasant. It was severe, disapproving. It had a final,
fateful sound. He was conscious of a feeling of
self-dissatisfaction. In not seeing the political importance
of his not being mixed up with this accident, Winthrop had
been peculiarly obtuse, and Beatrice, unsympathetic.
Until he had cast his vote for Reform, he felt distinctly
ill-used.
For a moment Beatrice Forbes sat in the car motionless,
staring unseeingly at the iron steps by which Peabody had
disappeared. For a few moments her brows we're tightly drawn.
Then, having apparently quickly arrived at some conclusion,
she opened the door of the car and pushed into the crowd.
Winthrop received her most rudely.
"You mustn't come here!" he cried.
"I thought," she stammered, "you might want some one?"
"I told--" began Winthrop, and then stopped, and added--"to
take you away. Where is he?"
Miss Forbes flushed slightly.
"He's gone," she said.
In trying not to look at Winthrop, she saw the fallen figure,
motionless against the pillar, and with an exclamation, bent
fearfully toward it.
"Can I do anything?" she asked.
The crowd gave way for her, and with curious pleased faces,
closed in again eagerly. She afforded them a new interest.
A young man in the uniform of an ambulancesurgeon was
kneeling beside the mud-stained figure, and a police officer
was standing over both. The ambulancesurgeon touched lightly
the matted hair from which the blood escaped, stuck his finger
in the eye of the prostrate man, and then with his open hand
slapped him across the face.
"Oh!" gasped Miss Forbes.
The young doctor heard her, and looking up, scowled
reprovingly. Seeing she was a rarely beautiful young woman,
he scowled less severely; and then deliberately and expertly,
again slapped Mr. Jerry Gaylor on the cheek. He watched the
white mark made by his hand upon the purple skin, until the
blood struggled slowly back to it, and then rose.
He ignored every one but the police officer.
"There's nothing the matter with HIM," he said. "He's dead
drunk."
The words came to Winthrop with such abruptrelief, bearing so
tremendous a burden of gratitude, that his heart seemed to
fail him. In his suddenly regained happiness, he
unconsciously laughed.
"Are you sure?" he asked eagerly. "I thought I'd killed him."
The surgeon looked at Winthrop coldly.
"When they're like that," he explained with authority, "you
can't hurt 'em if you throw them off the Times Building."
He condescended to recognize the crowd. "You know where this
man lives?"
Voices answered that Mr. Gaylor lived at the corner, over the
saloon. The voices showed a lack of sympathy. Old man Gaylor
dead was a novelty; old man Gaylor drunk was not.
The doctor's prescription was simple and direct.
"Put him to bed till he sleeps it off," he ordered; he swung
himself to the step of the ambulance. "Let him out, Steve,"
he called. There was the clang of a gong and the rattle of
galloping hoofs.
The police officer approached Winthrop. "They tell me Jerry
stepped in front of your car; that you wasn't to blame. I'll
get their names and where they live. Jerry might try to hold
you up for damages."
"Thank you very much," said Winthrop.
With several of Jerry's friends, and the soiled person, who
now seemed dissatisfied that Jerry was alive, Winthrop helped
to carry him up one flight of stairs and drop him upon a bed.
"In case he needs anything," said Winthrop, and gave several
bills to the soiled person, upon whom immediately Gaylor's
other friends closed in. "And I'll send my own doctor at once
to attend to him."
"You'd better," said the soiled person morosely, "or, he'll try
to shake you down.
The opinions as to what might be Mr. Gaylor's next move seemed
unanimous.
From the saloon below, Winthrop telephoned to the family
doctor, and then rejoined Miss Forbes and the Police officer.
The officer gave him the names of those citizens who had
witnessed the accident, and in return received Winthrop's
card.
"Not that it will go any further," said the officer
reassuringly. "They're all saying you acted all right and
wanted to take him to Roosevelt. There's many," he added with
sententious indignation, "that knock a man down, and then run
away without waiting to find out if they've hurted 'em or
killed 'em."
The speech for both Winthrop and Miss Forbes was equally
embarrassing.
"You don't say?" exclaimed Winthrop nervously. He shook the
policeman's hand. The handclasp was apparently satisfactory
to that official, for he murmured "Thank you," and stuck
something in the lining of his helmet. "Now, then!" Winthrop
said briskly to Miss Forbes, "I think we have done all we can.
And we'll get away from this place a little faster than the
law allows."
Miss Forbes had seated herself in the car, and Winthrop was
cranking up, when the same policeman, wearing an anxious
countenance, touched him on the arm. "There is a gentleman
here," he said, "wants to speak to you." He placed himself
between the gentleman and Winthrop and whispered: "He's
`Izzy' Schwab, he's a Harlem police-court lawyer and a Tammany
man. He's after something, look out for him."
Winthrop saw, smiling at him ingratiatingly, a slight, slim
youth, with beady, rat-like eyes, a low forehead, and a
Hebraic nose. He wondered how it had been possible for Jerry
Gaylor to so quickly secure counsel. But Mr. Schwab at once
undeceived him.
"I'm from the Journal," he began, "not regular on the staff,
but I send 'em Harlem items, and the court reporter treats me
nice, see! Now about this accident; could you give me the
name of the Young lady?"
He smiled encouragingly at Miss Forbes.
"I could not!" growled Winthrop. "The man wasn't hurt, the
policeman will tell you so. It is not of the least public
interest."
With a deprecatory shrug, the young man smiled knowingly.
"Well, mebbe not the lady's name," he granted, "but the name
of the OTHER gentleman who was with you, when the accident
occurred." His black, rat-like eyes snapped. "I think HIS
name would be of public interest."
To gain time Winthrop stepped into the driver's seat. He
looked at Mr. Schwab steadily.
"There was no other gentleman," he said. "Do you mean my
chauffeur?" Mr. Schwab gave an appreciative chuckle.
"No, I don't mean your chauffeur," he mimicked. "I mean," he
declared theatrically in his best police-court manner, "the
man who to-day is hoping to beat Tammany, Ernest Peabody!"
Winthrop stared at the youth insolently.
"I don't understand you," he said.
"Oh, of course not!" jeered "Izzy" Schwab. He moved excitedly
from foot to foot. "Then who WAS the other man," he
demanded, "the man who ran away?"
Winthrop felt the blood rise to his face. That Miss Forbes
should hear this rat of a man, sneering at the one she was to
marry, made him hate Peabody. But he answered easily:
"No one ran away. I told my chauffeur to go and call up an
ambulance. That was the man you saw."
As when "leading on" a witness to commit himself, Mr. Schwab
smiled sympathetically.
"And he hasn't got back yet," he purred, "has he?"
"No, and I'm not going to wait for him," returned Winthrop.
He reached for the clutch, but Mr. Schwab jumped directly in
front of the car.
"Was he looking for a telephone when he ran up the elevated
steps?" he cried.
He shook his fists vehemently.
"Oh, no, Mr. Winthrop, it won't do--you make a good witness.
I wouldn't ask for no better, but, you don't fool `Izzy'
Schwab."
"You're mistaken, I tell you," cried Winthrop desperately.
"He may look like--like this man you speak of, but no Peabody
was in this car."
"Izzy" Schwab wrung his hands hysterically.
"No, he wasn't!" he cried, "because he run away! And left an
old man in the street--dead, for all he knowed--nor cared
neither. Yah!" shrieked the Tammany heeler. "HIM a
Reformer, yah!"
"Stand away from my car," shouted Winthrop, "or you'll get
hurt."
"Yah, you'd like to, wouldn't you?" returned Mr. Schwab,
leaping, nimbly to one side. "What do you think the
Journal'll give me for that story, hey? `Ernest Peabody,
the Reformer, Kills an Old Man, AND RUNS AWAY.' And hiding
to get in the `extras,' and they'll be out in time to lose us
thousands of votes, and though no one is to blame, they're
sure to blame me. I don't care about myself," he added
eagerly, "but the very morning of election--half the city has
not voted yet--the Ticket----"
"Damn the Ticket!" exclaimed Winthrop. "The man's dead!
Peabody, burying his face still deeper in his collar, backed
into the crowd. In the present and past campaigns, from
carts and automobiles he had made many speeches in Harlem, and
on the West Side, lithographs of his stern, resolute features
hung in every delicatessen shop, and that he might be
recognized, was extremely likely.
He whispered to Miss Forbes what he had said, and what
Winthrop had said.
But you DON'T mean to leave him," remarked Miss Forbes.
"I must," returned Peabody. "I can do nothing for the man,
and you know how Tammany will use this--They'll have it on the
street by ten. They'll say I was driving recklessly; without
regard for human life. And, besides, they're waiting for me
at headquarters. Please hurry. I am late now."
Miss Forbes gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Why, I'm not going," she said.
"You must go! _I_ must go. You can't remain here alone."
Peabody spoke in the quick, assured tone that at the first had
convinced Miss Forbes his was a most masterful manner.
"Winthrop, too," he added, "wants you to go away."
Miss Forbes made no reply. But she looked at Peabody
inquiringly, steadily, as though she were puzzled as to his
identity, as though he had just been introduced to her. It
made him uncomfortable.
"Are you coming?" he asked.
Her answer was a question.
"Are you going?"
"I am!" returned Peabody. He added sharply: "I must."
"Good-by," said Miss Forbes.
As he ran up the steps to the station of the elevated, it
seemed to Peabody that the tone of her "good-by" had been most
unpleasant. It was severe, disapproving. It had a final,
fateful sound. He was conscious of a feeling of
self-dissatisfaction. In not seeing the political importance
of his not being mixed up with this accident, Winthrop had
been peculiarly obtuse, and Beatrice, unsympathetic.
Until he had cast his vote for Reform, he felt distinctly
ill-used.
For a moment Beatrice Forbes sat in the car motionless,
staring unseeingly at the iron steps by which Peabody had
disappeared. For a few moments her brows we're tightly drawn.
Then, having apparently quickly arrived at some conclusion,
she opened the door of the car and pushed into the crowd.
Winthrop received her most rudely.
"You mustn't come here!" he cried.
"I thought," she stammered, "you might want some one?"
"I told--" began Winthrop, and then stopped, and added--"to
take you away. Where is he?"
Miss Forbes flushed slightly.
"He's gone," she said.
In trying not to look at Winthrop, she saw the fallen figure,
motionless against the pillar, and with an exclamation, bent
fearfully toward it.
"Can I do anything?" she asked.
The crowd gave way for her, and with curious pleased faces,
closed in again eagerly. She afforded them a new interest.
A young man in the uniform of an ambulancesurgeon was
kneeling beside the mud-stained figure, and a police officer
was standing over both. The ambulancesurgeon touched lightly
the matted hair from which the blood escaped, stuck his finger
in the eye of the prostrate man, and then with his open hand
slapped him across the face.
"Oh!" gasped Miss Forbes.
The young doctor heard her, and looking up, scowled
reprovingly. Seeing she was a rarely beautiful young woman,
he scowled less severely; and then deliberately and expertly,
again slapped Mr. Jerry Gaylor on the cheek. He watched the
white mark made by his hand upon the purple skin, until the
blood struggled slowly back to it, and then rose.
He ignored every one but the police officer.
"There's nothing the matter with HIM," he said. "He's dead
drunk."
The words came to Winthrop with such abruptrelief, bearing so
tremendous a burden of gratitude, that his heart seemed to
fail him. In his suddenly regained happiness, he
unconsciously laughed.
"Are you sure?" he asked eagerly. "I thought I'd killed him."
The surgeon looked at Winthrop coldly.
"When they're like that," he explained with authority, "you
can't hurt 'em if you throw them off the Times Building."
He condescended to recognize the crowd. "You know where this
man lives?"
Voices answered that Mr. Gaylor lived at the corner, over the
saloon. The voices showed a lack of sympathy. Old man Gaylor
dead was a novelty; old man Gaylor drunk was not.
The doctor's prescription was simple and direct.
"Put him to bed till he sleeps it off," he ordered; he swung
himself to the step of the ambulance. "Let him out, Steve,"
he called. There was the clang of a gong and the rattle of
galloping hoofs.
The police officer approached Winthrop. "They tell me Jerry
stepped in front of your car; that you wasn't to blame. I'll
get their names and where they live. Jerry might try to hold
you up for damages."
"Thank you very much," said Winthrop.
With several of Jerry's friends, and the soiled person, who
now seemed dissatisfied that Jerry was alive, Winthrop helped
to carry him up one flight of stairs and drop him upon a bed.
"In case he needs anything," said Winthrop, and gave several
bills to the soiled person, upon whom immediately Gaylor's
other friends closed in. "And I'll send my own doctor at once
to attend to him."
"You'd better," said the soiled person morosely, "or, he'll try
to shake you down.
The opinions as to what might be Mr. Gaylor's next move seemed
unanimous.
From the saloon below, Winthrop telephoned to the family
doctor, and then rejoined Miss Forbes and the Police officer.
The officer gave him the names of those citizens who had
witnessed the accident, and in return received Winthrop's
card.
"Not that it will go any further," said the officer
reassuringly. "They're all saying you acted all right and
wanted to take him to Roosevelt. There's many," he added with
sententious indignation, "that knock a man down, and then run
away without waiting to find out if they've hurted 'em or
killed 'em."
The speech for both Winthrop and Miss Forbes was equally
embarrassing.
"You don't say?" exclaimed Winthrop nervously. He shook the
policeman's hand. The handclasp was apparently satisfactory
to that official, for he murmured "Thank you," and stuck
something in the lining of his helmet. "Now, then!" Winthrop
said briskly to Miss Forbes, "I think we have done all we can.
And we'll get away from this place a little faster than the
law allows."
Miss Forbes had seated herself in the car, and Winthrop was
cranking up, when the same policeman, wearing an anxious
countenance, touched him on the arm. "There is a gentleman
here," he said, "wants to speak to you." He placed himself
between the gentleman and Winthrop and whispered: "He's
`Izzy' Schwab, he's a Harlem police-court lawyer and a Tammany
man. He's after something, look out for him."
Winthrop saw, smiling at him ingratiatingly, a slight, slim
youth, with beady, rat-like eyes, a low forehead, and a
Hebraic nose. He wondered how it had been possible for Jerry
Gaylor to so quickly secure counsel. But Mr. Schwab at once
undeceived him.
"I'm from the Journal," he began, "not regular on the staff,
but I send 'em Harlem items, and the court reporter treats me
nice, see! Now about this accident; could you give me the
name of the Young lady?"
He smiled encouragingly at Miss Forbes.
"I could not!" growled Winthrop. "The man wasn't hurt, the
policeman will tell you so. It is not of the least public
interest."
With a deprecatory shrug, the young man smiled knowingly.
"Well, mebbe not the lady's name," he granted, "but the name
of the OTHER gentleman who was with you, when the accident
occurred." His black, rat-like eyes snapped. "I think HIS
name would be of public interest."
To gain time Winthrop stepped into the driver's seat. He
looked at Mr. Schwab steadily.
"There was no other gentleman," he said. "Do you mean my
chauffeur?" Mr. Schwab gave an appreciative chuckle.
"No, I don't mean your chauffeur," he mimicked. "I mean," he
declared theatrically in his best police-court manner, "the
man who to-day is hoping to beat Tammany, Ernest Peabody!"
Winthrop stared at the youth insolently.
"I don't understand you," he said.
"Oh, of course not!" jeered "Izzy" Schwab. He moved excitedly
from foot to foot. "Then who WAS the other man," he
demanded, "the man who ran away?"
Winthrop felt the blood rise to his face. That Miss Forbes
should hear this rat of a man, sneering at the one she was to
marry, made him hate Peabody. But he answered easily:
"No one ran away. I told my chauffeur to go and call up an
ambulance. That was the man you saw."
As when "leading on" a witness to commit himself, Mr. Schwab
smiled sympathetically.
"And he hasn't got back yet," he purred, "has he?"
"No, and I'm not going to wait for him," returned Winthrop.
He reached for the clutch, but Mr. Schwab jumped directly in
front of the car.
"Was he looking for a telephone when he ran up the elevated
steps?" he cried.
He shook his fists vehemently.
"Oh, no, Mr. Winthrop, it won't do--you make a good witness.
I wouldn't ask for no better, but, you don't fool `Izzy'
Schwab."
"You're mistaken, I tell you," cried Winthrop desperately.
"He may look like--like this man you speak of, but no Peabody
was in this car."
"Izzy" Schwab wrung his hands hysterically.
"No, he wasn't!" he cried, "because he run away! And left an
old man in the street--dead, for all he knowed--nor cared
neither. Yah!" shrieked the Tammany heeler. "HIM a
Reformer, yah!"
"Stand away from my car," shouted Winthrop, "or you'll get
hurt."
"Yah, you'd like to, wouldn't you?" returned Mr. Schwab,
leaping, nimbly to one side. "What do you think the
Journal'll give me for that story, hey? `Ernest Peabody,
the Reformer, Kills an Old Man, AND RUNS AWAY.' And hiding
- collar [´kɔlə]
n.衣领；(狗等的)项圈 (初中英语单词) - extremely [ik´stri:mli] ad.极端地；非常地 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- headquarters [´hed,kwɔ:təz] n.总部(署)，司令部 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- sharply [´ʃɑ:pli] ad.锋利地；剧烈地 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- conscious [´kɔnʃəs] a.意识的；自觉的 (初中英语单词)
- reform [ri´fɔ:m] v.&n.改革；改良；革除 (初中英语单词)
- eagerly [´i:gəli] ad.渴望地，急切地 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- rarely [´reəli] ad.难得；非凡地 (初中英语单词)
- purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- gratitude [´grætitju:d] n.感激，感谢 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- rattle [´rætl] n.嘎吱声 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- helmet [´helmit] n.钢盔 (初中英语单词)
- policeman [pə´li:smən] n.警察 (初中英语单词)
- lawyer [´lɔ:jə] n.律师；法学家 (初中英语单词)
- forehead [´fɔrid] n.额，前部 (初中英语单词)
- counsel [´kaunsəl] n.商议；劝告；律师 (初中英语单词)
- witness [´witnis] n.见证人 vt.目击 (初中英语单词)
- commit [kə´mit] vt.犯(罪)；把...判处 (初中英语单词)
- clutch [klʌtʃ] v.抓住 n.爪子；控制 (初中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- pillar [´pilə] n.支柱 vt.用柱支持 (高中英语单词)
- surgeon [´sə:dʒən] n.外科医生；军医 (高中英语单词)
- severely [si´viəli] ad.剧烈地；严格地 (高中英语单词)
- deliberately [di´libərətli] ad.故意地；慎重地 (高中英语单词)
- abrupt [ə´brʌpt] a.突然的；粗鲁的 (高中英语单词)
- bearing [´beəriŋ] n.举止；忍耐；关系 (高中英语单词)
- novelty [´nɔvəlti] n.新奇(的事物) (高中英语单词)
- saloon [sə´lu:n] n.大厅；餐车 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- indignation [,indig´neiʃən] n.愤慨；气愤 (高中英语单词)
- lining [´lainiŋ] n.衬里；衬料 (高中英语单词)
- reporter [ri´pɔ:tə] n.报告人；记者；广播员 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- resolute [´rezəlu:t] a.坚决的；不屈不挠的 (英语四级单词)
- exclamation [,eksklə´meiʃən] n.喊(惊)叫；感叹词 (英语四级单词)
- peculiarly [pi´kju:liəli] ad.特有地；古怪地 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- ambulance [´æmbjuləns] n.救护车(船，飞机) (英语四级单词)
- prostrate [´prɔstreit, prɔ´streit] a.俯伏的 vt.弄倒 (英语四级单词)
- nervously [´nə:vəsli] ad.神经质地；胆怯地 (英语四级单词)
- briskly [´briskli] ad.轻快地；活泼地 (英语四级单词)
- chauffeur [´ʃəufə,ʃeu´fə:] n.(汽车)司机 (英语四级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
- dissatisfied [´dis,sætis´fækʃən] a.不满的；显出不满的 (英语六级单词)
- appreciative [ə´pri:ʃətiv] a.欣赏的；感激的 (英语六级单词)
- reformer [ri´fɔ:mə] n.改革者；革新者 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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