A Splendid Hazard | Page 9

hat which he followed till
it became lost up the Avenue; and as often as not he would single out a
waiting cabman and speculate on the quality of his fare; and other
whimsies.
That this was such and such a woman, or that was such and such a man
never led him into any of that gossip so common among club-men who

are out of touch with the vital things in life. Even when he espied a
friend in this mysterious flow of souls, there was only a transient flash
of recognition in his eyes. When he wasn't in the tennis-courts, or the
billiard- or card-rooms, he was generally to be found in this corner. He
had seen all manner of crowds, armies pursuing and retreating, vast
concords in public squares, at coronations, at catastrophes, at play, and
he never lost interest in watching them; they were the great expressions
of humanity. This is perhaps the reason why his articles were always so
rich in color. No two crowds were ever alike to him, consequently he
never was at loss for a fresh description.
To-day the Italian vender of plaster statuettes caught his eye. For an
hour now the poor wretch hadn't even drawn the attention of one of the
thousands passing. Fitzgerald felt sorry for him, and once the desire
came to go over and buy out the Neapolitan; but he was too
comfortable where he was, and beyond that he was expecting a friend.
Fitzgerald was thirty, with a clean-shaven, lean, and eager face, russet
in tone, well offset by the fine blue eyes which had the faculty of seeing
little and big things at the same time. He had dissipated in a trifling
fashion, but the healthy, active life he lived in the open more than
counteracted the effects. A lonely orphan, possessing a lively
imagination, is seldom free from some vice or other. There had never
been, however, what the world is pleased to term entanglements. His
guardian angel gave him a light step whenever there was any social thin
ice. Oh, he had some relatives; but as they were neither very rich nor
very poor, they seldom annoyed one another. He was, then, a free lance
in all the abused word implies; and he lived as he pleased, spending his
earnings freely and often carelessly, knowing that the little his father
had left him would keep a moderately hungry wolf from the door. He
had been born to a golden spoon, but the food from the pewter one he
now used tasted just as good.
"So here you are! I've been in the billiard-room, and the card-room, and
the bar-room."
"Talking of bar-rooms!" Fitzgerald reached for the button. "Sit down,
Hewitt, old boy. Glad to see you. Now, I'll tell you right off the bat,

nothing will persuade me. For years I've been jumping to the four
points of the compass at the beck of your old magazine and syndicate.
I'm going to settle down and write a novel."
"Piffle!" growled the editor, dropping his lanky form into a chair.
"Thank goodness, they haven't swivel chairs in the club. I've been
whirling round in one all day--a long, tall Scotch, please--but a novel! I
say, piffle!"
"Piffle it may be, but I'm going to have a whack at it. If I ever do
another article it will be as a millionaire's private secretary. I should
like to study his methods for saving his money. What is it this time?"
"A dash to the North Pole."
"Never again north of Berlin or south of Assuan for mine. No."
"Come, Fitz; a great chance."
"When you sent me to Manila I explored hell for you, but I've cooled
off considerably since then. No ice for mine, except in silver buckets."
"You've made a pretty good thing out of us; something like five
thousand a year and your expenses; and with the credentials we've
always given you, you have been able to see the world as few men see
it."
"That's just the trouble. You've spoiled me."
"Well, you may take my word for it, you won't have the patience to sit
down at home here and write a hundred thousand words that mean
anything. There's no reason why you can't do my work and write novels
on the side. We both know a dozen fellows who are doing it. We've got
to have this article, and you're the only man we dare trust alone on it, if
it will flatter you any to know it."
"Come, pussy, come!"
"If it's a question of more money--"

"Perish the thought!" cried Fitzgerald, clasping his knees and rocking
gently. "You know as well as I do, Hewitt, that it's the game and not the
cash. I've found a new love, my boy."