The Intrusion of Jimmy | Page 4

III. MR.
MCEACHERN IV. MOLLY V. A THIEF IN THE NIGHT VI. AN
EXHIBITION PERFORMANCE VII. GETTING ACQUAINTED VIII.
AT DREEVER IX. FRIENDS, NEW AND OLD X. JIMMY ADOPTS
A LAME DOG XI. AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD XII. MAKING A
START XIII. SPIKE'S VIEWS XIV. CHECK AND A COUNTER
MOVE XV. MR. McEACHERN INTERVENES XVI. A MARRIAGE
ARRANGED XVII. JIMMY REMEMBERS SOMETHING XVIII.
THE LOCHINVAR METHOD XIX. ON THE LAKE XX. A LESSON
IN PICQUET XXI. LOATHSOME GIFTS XXII. TWO OF A TRADE

DISAGREE XXIII. FAMILY JARS XXIV. THE
TREASURE-SEEKER XXV. EXPLANATIONS XXVI. STIRRING
TIMES FOR SIR THOMAS XXVII. A DECLARATION OF
INDEPENDENCE XXVIII. SPENNIE'S HOUR OF CLEAR VISION
XXIX. THE LAST ROUND XXX. CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
JIMMY MAKES A BET
The main smoking-room of the Strollers' Club had been filling for the
last half-hour, and was now nearly full. In many ways, the Strollers',
though not the most magnificent, is the pleasantest club in New York.
Its ideals are comfort without pomp; and it is given over after eleven
o'clock at night mainly to the Stage. Everybody is young, clean-shaven,
and full of conversation: and the conversation strikes a purely
professional note.
Everybody in the room on this July night had come from the theater.
Most of those present had been acting, but a certain number had been to
the opening performance of the latest better-than-Raffles play. There
had been something of a boom that season in dramas whose heroes
appealed to the public more pleasantly across the footlights than they
might have done in real life. In the play that had opened to-night,
Arthur Mifflin, an exemplary young man off the stage, had been
warmly applauded for a series of actions which, performed anywhere
except in the theater, would certainly have debarred him from
remaining a member of the Strollers' or any other club. In faultless
evening dress, with a debonair smile on his face, he had broken open a
safe, stolen bonds and jewelry to a large amount, and escaped without a
blush of shame via the window. He had foiled a detective through four
acts, and held up a band of pursuers with a revolver. A large audience
had intimated complete approval throughout.
"It's a hit all right," said somebody through the smoke.
"These near-'Raffles' plays always are," grumbled Willett, who played
bluff fathers in musical comedy. "A few years ago, they would have

been scared to death of putting on a show with a crook as hero. Now, it
seems to me the public doesn't want anything else. Not that they know
what they DO want," he concluded, mournfully.
"The Belle of Boulogne," in which Willett sustained the role of Cyrus
K. Higgs, a Chicago millionaire, was slowly fading away on a diet of
paper, and this possibly prejudiced him.
Raikes, the character actor, changed the subject. If Willett once got
started on the wrongs of the ill-fated "Belle," general conversation
would become impossible. Willett, denouncing the stupidity of the
public, as purely a monologue artiste.
"I saw Jimmy Pitt at the show," said Raikes. Everybody displayed
interest.
"Jimmy Pitt? When did he come back? I thought he was in Italy."
"He came on the Lusitania, I suppose. She docked this morning."
"Jimmy Pitt?" said Sutton, of the Majestic Theater. "How long has he
been away? Last I saw of him was at the opening of 'The Outsider' at
the Astor. That's a couple of months ago."
"He's been traveling in Europe, I believe," said Raikes. "Lucky beggar
to be able to. I wish I could."
Sutton knocked the ash off his cigar.
"I envy Jimmy," he said. "I don't know anyone I'd rather be. He's got
much more money than any man except a professional 'plute' has any
right to. He's as strong as an ox. I shouldn't say he'd ever had anything
worse than measles in his life. He's got no relations. And he isn't
married."
Sutton, who had been married three times, spoke with some feeling.
"He's a good chap, Jimmy," said Raikes.

"Yes," said Arthur Mifflin, "yes, Jimmy is a good chap. I've known him
for years. I was at college with him. He hasn't got my brilliance of
intellect; but he has some wonderfully fine qualities. For one thing, I
should say he had put more deadbeats on their legs again than half the
men in New York put together."
"Well," growled Willett, whom the misfortunes of the Belle had soured,
"what's there in that? It's mighty easy to do the philanthropist act when
you're next door to a millionaire."
"Yes," said Mifflin warmly, "but it's not so easy when you're getting
thirty dollars a week on a newspaper. When Jimmy was a reporter on
the News, there used to be a whole crowd of fellows just living on him.
Not