Yollop
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Yollop, by George Barr McCutcheon
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Title: Yollop
Author: George Barr McCutcheon
Release Date: June, 2004 [EBook #5866] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on September 15,
2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
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[Illustration: LEAVING MRS. CHAMPNEY SEATED ALONE AND
HELPLESS IN THE MIDST OF THE CONFUSION, SMILK
MARCHED MR. YOLLOP TO HIS BEDROOM]
YOLLOP
BY
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
FRONTISPIECE BY
EDWARD C. CASWELL
NEW YORK
1922
YOLLOP
CHAPTER ONE
In the first place, Mr. Yollop knew nothing about firearms. And so,
after he had overpowered the burglar and relieved him of a fully loaded
thirty-eight, he was singularly unimpressed by the following tribute
from the bewildered and somewhat exasperated captive:
"Say, ain't you got any more sense than to tackle a man with a gun, you
chuckle-headed idiot?" (Only he did not say "chuckle-headed," and he
inserted several expletives between "say" and "ain't.")
The dazed intruder was hunched limply, in a sitting posture, over
against the wall, one hand clamped tightly to his jaw, the other being
elevated in obedience to a command that had to be thrice repeated
before it found lodgment in his whirling brain. Mr. Yollop, who
seemed to be satisfied with the holding up of but one hand, cupped his
own hand at the back of one ear, and demanded querulously:
"What say!"
"Are you hard o' hearin'?"
"Hey?"
"Well for the--say, are you deef?"
"Don't say deef. Say deaf,--as if it were spelled d-e-double f. Yes,--I am
a little hard of hearing."
"Now, how the hell did you hear--I say, HOW DID YOU HEAR ME
IN THE ROOM, if it's a fair question?"
"If you've got anything in your mouth, spit it out. I can't make out half
what you say. Sounds like 'ollo--ollo--ollo'!"
The thief opened his mouth and with his tongue instituted a visible
search for the obstruction that appeared to annoy Mr. Yollop.
"They're all here except the one I had pulled last year," he announced
vastly relieved. A sharp spasm of pain in his jaw caused him to
abruptly take advantage of a recent discovery; and while he was careful
to couch his opinions in an undertone, he told Mr. Yollop what he
thought of him in terms that would have put the hardiest pirate to blush.
Something in Mr. Yollop's eye, however, and the fidgety way in which
he was fingering the trigger of the pistol, moved him to interrupt a
particularly satisfying paean of blasphemy by breaking off short in the
very middle of it to wonder why in God's name he hadn't had sense
enough to remember that all deaf people are lip-readers.
"Spit it out!" repeated Mr. Yollop, with energy. "Don't talk with your
mouth full. I can't understand a word you say."
This was reassuring but not convincing. There was still the ominous
glitter in the speaker's eye to be reckoned with. The man on the floor
took the precaution to explain: "I hope "you didn't hear what I was
callin' myself." He spoke loudly and very distinctly.
"That's better," said Mr. Yollop, his face brightening. "I was 'afraid my
hearing had got worse without my knowing it. All you have to do is to
enunciate distinctly and speak slowly like that,--as if you were isolating
the words,--so to speak,--and I can make out everything you say. What
were you calling yourself?"
"Oh, just a lot of names. I'd sooner not repeat 'em if there's any women
in the house."
"Well, bless my soul, that's uncommonly thoughtful of you. My sister
and her young daughter are here to spend the holidays with me. They
sleep at the back of the apartment. Now, if you
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