The Miracle Man | Page 9

there like a whole
parade and a gorgeous pageant rolled into one, in feathers and paint and
diamond boulders in your ears--and you come out of it in a gingham
apron and coy sunbonnet as sweet sixteen."
"Oh!" said Helena--and her eyes were on the curl of smoke from her
cigarette again.
"Say," said Pale Face Harry suddenly, evidently still worried about his
cough, "we ain't going to have no easy cinch of this."
"No," said Doc Madison, with a grim smile; "you're not! It's going to be

the hardest work any of you have ever done--you've got to lead decent
lives for awhile."
"Sure--dat's right," said the loyal Flopper; "but we stands fer anyt'ing
dat de Doc says--an' dat goes!"
"It'll come hard on some of us," remarked Pale Face Harry, with a sly
glance at Helena, which met with contemptuous silence.
Doc Madison leaned back, felt carefully at his carefully adjusted
tie--and smiled engagingly.
"Well?" he asked. "Can you see them coming?"
Pale Face Harry stared at him with a far-away expression in his eyes.
"When we get through with this, if I ain't handed in my checks before,"
he said dreamily, "it's mine for a brownstone on the Avenue, and one of
them life-size landscapes with a shack on it for the season down to
Pa'm Beach that they call country cottages. I'll dress the ginks that
scrub the horses down in solid gold braid, and put the corpse of
chamber ladies in Irish lace--I bust into society, marry a duke's one and
only, and swipe her coronet for my manly brow. Did you ask me
anything, Doc?"
"Swipe me!" said the Flopper. "Me in me private Pullman in a plush
seat an' anudder to put me feet in, an' me thumbs in de armholes of me
vest. I wears a high polished lid an' a red tie, an' scatters simoleans
outer de window in me travels to the gazaboes on de platforms as I
pass--an' den I joins Tammany Hall so's I can stick me fingers to me
nose every time I sees a cop."
"Flopper," said Doc Madison in an awed voice, "the honor is all mine."
Helena went off into a peal of rippling, silvery, contagious laughter,
and her little heels again beat an exuberant tattoo on the end of the
couch.

"Yes?" invited Doc Madison, smiling at her.
"I'm seeing them coming," said Helena--and one heel went through the
cretonne upholstery of the couch.
"Good!" said Doc Madison--and from the inside pocket of his coat he
pulled out a package of crisp, new, yellow-backed bills. "You
understand that down there none of you ever heard of each other or of
me before, and you drop the 'doc'--bury it! My name is John G.
Madison--G. for Garfield." His fingers passed deftly over the edges of
the bills. He pushed a little pile toward the Hopper, another toward Pale
Face Harry, and tucked the remainder into his coat pocket again.
"That'll do for expenses," he said. "And now, if you understand
everything, principally that you're to go to church Sundays till you hear
from me, and you're quite satisfied with the lay, we'll adjourn, sine die,
to Needley."
Helena was holding out a very dainty hand, with pink, wiggling fingers.
"I'll need, oh, ever so much more than they will," she declared, with a
bewitching pout. "And, please, I'm waiting very patiently."
Doc Madison laughed.
"By and by, Helena," he said, patting her hand. "Well, Flopper, well,
Harry--what do you say?"
The Flopper pushed back his chair and stood up hesitantly like a man
unexpectedly called upon for an after-dinner speech. He stood there
awkwardly a moment gazing at Doc Madison, his tongue slowly
circling his lips; then, with a gulp, as though words to express his
feelings were utterly beyond him, he turned and started for the door.
Pale Face Harry, as he rose, shoved out his hand.
"I don't deserve my luck to be in on this," he said modestly. "Only, Doc,
push it along on the high gear, will you--I ain't going to be able to sleep
thinking about it." He looked at Helena a little undecidedly--and

compromised on brevity. "'Night, Helena," he flung out.
"Oh, good-night, Harry," she smiled.
The Flopper turned at the door and came back a few steps into the
room.
"Say, Doc," he said, blinking furiously, "youse can wipe yer feet on me
any time youse like--dat's wot!"
"All right, Flopper," said Doc Madison gravely. "When you've joined
Tammany Hall--good-night." He followed across the room, and from
the doorway watched the two descend the stairs. "Good-night," he said
again, then closed the door and came back into the room. "Well,
Helena?" he remarked tentatively.
"Well--Garfield?"--Helena clasped her hands around one knee and
rocked gently.
"Don't be familiar, Helena," Doc Madison