Captain
Elisha stepped to the head of the stairs.
"Come right up, Steve!" he called.
Stephen came. His uncle ushered him into the room, closed the door, and
turned the key.
"Stevie," he said, kindly, "I'm glad to see you. Take off your things
and set down."
The boy accepted the invitation only to the extent of throwing his hat
on the table. He did not sit or remove his overcoat. He was pale, his
eyes were swollen and red, his hair was disarranged, and in all respects
he looked unlike his usual blase and immaculate self. His forehead was
wet, showing that he had hurried on his way to the boarding house.
The captain regarded him pityingly.
"Set down, Stevie," he urged. "You're all het up and worn out."
His nephew paid no attention. Instead he asked a question.
"You know about it?" he demanded.
"Yes, Stevie; I know."
"You do? I--I mean about the--the Akrae Company and--and all?"
"Yes. I know all about all of it. Do set down!"
Stephen struck his closed fist into the palm of his other hand. He wore
one glove. What had become of the other he could not have told.
"You do?" he shouted. "You do? By gad! Then do you know what it means?"
"Yes, I know that, too. Now, Stevie, be a good boy and set down and keep
cool. Yes, I want you to.
Pages:
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349