Nine Short Stories | Page 8

bum show," declared Mr. Henderson. "I saw it the other night.
Lord, I've seen better than that out in Wichita. Why don't you come
with me up to the Century? A fellow at the hotel told me it's the real
thing."
So after Mr. Henderson had paid for the drinks--despite Rick's
protest--they left the cafe and took a taxi to Sixty-second Street, where
Henderson allowed Rick to settle with the chauffeur while he entered
the theater lobby to get the tickets.
Rick liked the man from Kansas. He appeared to be an outspoken, blunt
sort of fellow who liked to have a good time and knew where to go for
it. Lucky thing to have met up with him. Mighty pleasant to have for a
companion a chap from the right side of the Mississippi.
The show was in fact a good one, and Rick enjoyed it hugely. Pretty
girls, catchy music, funny lines, clever dancing. Rick applauded with
gusto and laughed himself weak. The only drawback was that Mr.
Henderson appeared to have an unconquerable aversion to going out

between the acts. It was incomprehensible. The man actually seemed to
prefer sitting in the stuffy, crowded theater to stepping out for a little
air. But then he was a most amusing talker and the intermissions were
not so very long.
After the final curtain they pushed out with the crowd to the sidewalk.
Rick felt exhilarated and a little bewildered in the whirlpool of smiling
faces and the noise of a thousand chattering tongues.
"This is certainly New York," he was saying to himself, when his
thoughts were interrupted by his companion's voice:
"What do you say we go downtown for a little supper? I know a good
place. Unless you'd rather turn in--"
"I should say not," declared Rick. "I had my supper at six o'clock, but
I'm always ready for more. Lead me to it. This is on me, you know."
So they found a taxi at the curb and got in, after Mr. Henderson had
given the chauffeur the name of a cabaret and supper room downtown.
A little delay, and they were out of the crush in front of the theater' a
minute later the cab turned into Broadway, with its glaring lights and
throngs of vehicles and pedestrians, and headed south.
Suddenly Mr. Henderson pulled himself forward, thrust his hand into
his hip pocket and brought it forth again holding something that
glistened like bright silver as the rays of light through the cab window
reflected on it. Rick's curious glance showed him that it was a
nickel-plated whisky flask. He watched with a speculative eye as the
other unscrewed the top, turned it over and poured it full of liquid.
"Some stuff I brought with me from Kansas," explained Mr. Henderson.
"The real thing, this is. I always keep it in the sideboard. If you'd care
to join me, sir--"
Rick hesitated. Then he blushed f or the base thought that had entered
his mind. It was all right to be cautious and all that, but it was carrying
it a little too far to be suspicious of a man like Henderson. Still--

"Sure," said Rick. "After you. I'd like to sample it."
The other prolffered the tiny nickel-plated cup.
"After you," Rick repeated with a polite gesture.
"Here's how, then," replied Henderson, and emptied the cup at a gulp.
"Nothing to rinse with, you know," he observed as he filled it again
from the flask. "The stuff's too good to waste it washing dishes."
"That's all right." Rick took the cup, brim-full, in his fingers. "Here's
looking at you."
And, following the other's example, he swallowed it with one draught.
About three hours later, a Iittle after three o'clock in the morning, the
lieutenant at the desk of the Murray Hill Police Station was conducting
an investigation. The chief witness was a taxicab chauffeur, whose face
was flushed with indignation at the iniquity of a wicked world, and
whose tone was filled with injured protest.
"I was in front of the Century," said the chauffeur to the police
lieutenant, "when two guys took me. One of 'em, a short, red-faced guy,
told me to hit it up for Shoney's cabaret. I got 'em there as quick as I
could, of course bein' careful, but when I pulled up in front of Shoney's
the red-faced guy leaned out of the window and said they'd changed
their minds and guessed they'd drive around a little. 'Maybe an hour,' he
said, and told me to go up the Avenue to the Park. So I beat it for the
Park.
"I drove around till I got dizzy, nearly two hours, and it seemed funny I
wasn't hearing sounds of voices inside. They had the front curtains
pulled down.