The Drums of Jeopardy | Page 9

Across the earth a tempest had been loosed; but Ariel did not ride it,
Caliban did. The scythe of terror was harvesting a type; and the
innocent were bending with the guilty.
Suddenly Hawksley felt young, revivified, free. He had arrived.
Surmounting indescribable hazards and hardships he walked the
pavement of New York. In an hour the mutable quicksands of a great
city would swallow him forever. Free! He wanted to stroll about, peer
into shop windows, watch the amazing electric signs, dally; but he still
had much to accomplish.
He searched for a telephone sign. It was necessary that he find one
immediately. He had once spent six weeks in and about this marvellous
city, and he had a vague recollection of the blue-and-white enamel
signs. Shortly he found one. It was a pay station in the rear of a news
and tobacco shop.
He entered a booth, but discovered that he had no five-cent pieces in
his purse. He hurried out to the girl behind the cigar stand. She was
exhibiting a box of cigars to a customer, who selected three, paid for

them, and walked away. Hawksley, boiling with haste to have his affair
done, flung a silver coin toward the girl.
"Five-cent pieces!"
"Will you take them with you or shall I send them?" asked the girl,
earnestly.
"I beg pardon!"
"Any particular kind of ribbon you want the box tied with?"
"I beg your pardon!" repeated Hawksley, harried and bewildered. "But
I'm in a hurry - "
"Too much of a hurry to leave out the bark when you ask a favour? I
make change out of courtesy. And you all bark at me Nickel! Nickel! as
if that was my job."
"A thousand apologies!" - contritely.
"And don't make it any worse by suggesting a movie after supper. My
mother never lets me go out after dark."
"I rather fancy she's quite sensible. Still, you seem able to take care of
yourself. I might suggest -"
"With that black eye? Nay, nay! I'll bet somebody's brother gave it to
you."
"Venus was not on that occasion in ascendancy. Thank you for the
change." Hawksley swung on his heel and reentered the booth.
A great weariness oppressed him. A longing, almost irresistible, came
to him to go out and cry aloud: "Here I am! Kill me! I am tired and
done!" For he had recognized the purchaser of the cigars as one of the
men who had left the 125th Street Station at the same time as he. He
remembered distinctly that this man had been in a hurry. Perhaps the
whole dizzy affair was reacting upon his imagination psychologically

and turning harmless individuals into enemies.
"Hello!" said a man's voice over the wire.
"Is Mr. Rathbone there?"
"Captain Rathbone is with his regiment at Coblenz, sir."
"Coblenz?"
"Yes, sir. I do not expect his return until near midsummer, sir. Who is
this talking?"
"Have you opened a cable from Yokohama?"
"This is Mr. Hawksley!" The voice became excited.
"Oh, sir! You will come right away. I alone understand, sir. You will
remember me when you see me. I'm the captain's butler, sir - Jenkins.
He cabled back to give you the entire run of the house as long as you
desired it. He advised me to notify you that he had also prepared his
banker against your arrival. Have your luggage sent here at once, sir.
Dinner will be at your convenience."
Hawksley's body relaxed. A lump came into his throat. Here was a
friend, anyhow, ready to serve him though he was thousands of miles
away.
When he could trust himself to speak he said: "Sorry. It will be
impossible to accept the hospitality at present. I shall call in a few days,
however, to establish my identity. Thank you. Good evening."
"Just a moment, sir. I may have an important cable to transmit to you. It
would be wise to leave me your address, sir."
Hawksley hesitated a moment. After all, he could trust this perfect old
servant, whom he remembered. He gave the address.
As he came out of the booth the girl stretched forth an arm to detain

him. He stopped.
"I'm sorry I spoke like that," she said. "But I'm so tired! I've been on
my feet all day, and everybody's been barking and growling; and if I'd
taken in as many nickels as I've passed out in change the boss would be
rich."
"Give me a dozen of those roses there." She sold flowers also. "The
pink ones. How much?" he asked.
"Two-fifty."
He laid down the money. "Never mind the box. They are for you. Good
evening."
The girl stared at the flowers as Ali Baba must have stared at the cask
with rubies.
"For me!" she whispered. "For nothing!"