The Wharf by the Docks | Page 8

"Why, Horne," cried he, and he was angry with himself as he noted that
his voice was hoarse and tremulous, and that he could not manage to
bring out his natural tones, "what have you been doing with yourself?
I--I've been backward and forward here all day long, and now I've been
waiting for you ever so long!"
There was a pause. Dudley was still staring at him, but there was
gradually coming over his face a change which showed recognition,

followed by annoyance. He drew himself up, and, after a pause, asked,
stiffly:
"What did you want with me?"
He spoke more naturally than Max had managed to do, and as the latter
replied, he took out his pocket-handkerchief very calmly and began to
wipe the stain off his right hand.
Max shuddered.
"Why, is it such a very unusual thing for me to drop in upon you and to
want to see you?" he asked, with another attempt at his ordinary
manner, which failed almost as completely as the first had done.
There was another short pause. Dudley, without looking again at his
friend, examined his hand, saw that it was now clean, and replaced the
soiled handkerchief in his pocket. He seemed by this time to be
thoroughly at his ease, but Max was not deceived.
"Of course not," said Dudley, quickly. "I only meant
that--considering"--he paused, and seemed to be trying to recollect
something--"considering what took place down at Datton yesterday and
how anxious your father seemed to be rid of me--"
"But what has my father got to do with me, as far as you are concerned,
Dudley, eh?" said Max.
There had come upon him suddenly such a strong impression that his
friend was in some awful difficulty, some scrape so terrible as to make
him lonely beyond the reach of help, that Max, who was a good-hearted
fellow and a stanch friend, spoke with something which might almost
be called tenderness:
"We've always been chums, now, haven't we? And a row between you
and Doreen, or between you and my father, wouldn't make any
difference to me. I--I suppose you don't mean to give me the cold
shoulder for the future, eh?"

Dudley had turned his back upon him, and was standing on the
hearth-rug, looking down at the fire, in an attitude which betrayed to
his friend the uneasiness from which he was suffering. It was an
attitude of constraint, as different as possible from any in which Max
had ever seen him.
Another pause. Dudley seemed unable on this occasion to give a simple
answer to a simple question without taking thought first. At last he
laughed awkwardly and half turned toward Max.
"Why, of course not," said he, but without heartiness. "Of course not.
Though it will be rather awkward, mind, for us to see much of each
other just at first, after my having got kicked out like that, won't it?"
The tone in which Max answered betrayed considerable surprise and
perplexity.
"Kicked out!" he exclaimed. "My father said he hardly got a word out
before you took yourself off in a huff."
Dudley turned round quickly and faced him this time, with a sullen
look of defiance on his dark face.
"Well, the wise man doesn't wait to be kicked out," said he. "He
removes himself upon the slightest hint that such a proceeding on his
part would be well received."
"You were a little too quick on this occasion," replied Max, dryly, "for
my father has got himself into hot water, and mother had a fit of crying,
while Doreen--"
Something made Max hesitate to tell his friend how Doreen had taken
his desertion. Max himself was ready to stand by his friend, whatever
difficulties the latter might be in. But Doreen, his lovely sister, must
have a lover without reproach.
At the mention of the girl's name there came a slight change over
Dudley's face--a change which struck the sensitive Max and touched

him deeply. Dudley took a step in the direction of his bedroom, and
pulled out his watch. As he did so a railroad ticket jerked out of his
pocket with the watch and fell to the ground.
Max saw it fall, but before he could pick it up or draw attention to it his
ideas were diverted by Dudley's next words:
"Well, you '11 excuse me, old chap. I've got to see a friend off by the
midnight train to Liverpool."
As he spoke Dudley turned, with his hand on the door, to cast a glance
at Max. He seemed to be asking himself what he should tell the other.
And then he took a step toward his friend and began an explanation,
which, as his shrewd eyes told him, Max required.
"The fact is that