XXX
WHAT CLO DID WITH A KNIFE
When Kit and Churn left Krantz's Keller they walked fast alongFourteenth Street till they came to Sixth Avenue. There they appeared tohesitate, as if they could not decide whether to go up or down town.Clo, as close behind them as she dared to venture, guessed instantlythat, until now, they had not entirely made up their minds which ofseveral hiding-places it would be safest for them to seek.
Judging by their linked arms, and the nearness of the two heads, theirconversation was absorbing. They stopped at the corner, and Clo stoppedalso. Presently the pair resolved on going down toward ThirteenthStreet. Clo went after them. They walked for several blocks; and thegirl following always glanced at the number of each street she passed.There had been an accident to a taxi, however, in the neighbourhood ofEleventh Street, and a crowd had collected. In this crowd Clo nearlylost the quarry. She had a moment of despair, then saw the skirt of Kitin the distance. No longer was she wearing a pink cloak, but a whiteone. She must have had a chance to turn it wrong side out!
So excited was Clo that she forgot to notice the streets. Whether thecouple turned off the Avenue into Tenth, or Ninth, or Eighth, she wasnot sure. She was certain only that she was on their track. Thenfollowed a chase across town. In this, the girl finally lost her head alittle, but when it seemed that she could drag herself no further, Kitand Churn stopped in front of a house, and rang the bell.
"Neither of them lives there, or there'd be a latch-key!" Clo thought,hovering on the other side of the street.
It was some time before the two were let in; but after a delay of fouror five minutes a woman opened the door. A dim gas light shone from thehall or lobby, and Clo's impression was of a dark brown face, the faceof a negress. There was a short discussion; then the woman nodded,stepping aside to let Kit and Churn pass. An instant later the door shutthem in.
Clo stood gazing at the house. It was one in a row of old-fashioned,shabby brick buildings, four storeys in height. A light showed in thebasement, but other windows were black. Suddenly, as Clo watched, ayellow gleam flashed in a fourth-storey room but at the same moment aman stepped to the window and pulled down a dark blind. Clo thought thatthis man was Churn.
"They're going to stay," she argued; and crossing the street at adistance from the house, the girl looked at it with interest. There wasno street lamp near, and she could not see the number; but there was asmall plaque at the side of the door, and Clo tripped up the steps toread it. Joy, the place was a boarding house!
The pair having mounted to the fourth storey, Clo thought she mightventure to ring. She pulled an old-fashioned bell, and her heart thumpedin her breast as the shrill sound jingled through the house.
"I must have some tale to tell--why I'm here so late, wanting a room,"she reflected.
The door was opened by the woman who had admitted Kit and Churn. Notonly was she black, but she was fat and slovenly. Staring at thenew-comer, she exclaimed with a mouth full of gum:
"Say, is you another fren' o' Mr. Cheffinsky?"
"Chuff!" was the password that flashed through Clo's brain. "This iswhere he lives!" She was triumphant.
"I don't know anything about Mr. Cheffinsky," she replied, "but I'm in ascrape, and a friend of mine once recommended me to this house. I sawsome people come in, and a light. It's still a boarding-house, isn'tit?"
"It ain't no foundlin' orphant asylum."
"I don't ask for charity. I've got money to pay my board. But I don'twant an expensive room. One at the top of the house will do."
"Say, it's a real funny time o' night for a young girl like you to golookin' foh a home to lay her haid," remarked the negress. "But you canstep in the hall. I'll call Mis' MacMahon. She's the lady o' the house.We've got a room upstahs, but I don't know whethah she'll let you haveit."
She allowed Clo to enter, and left the girl standing as she descendedthe basement stairs.
"'MacMahon' sounds hopeful!" Clo thought. The girl had lodged drearilyin New York, but she had never been in a house as dreary as this.
Mrs. MacMahon's look was less inspiring than her name. She was of thebig-jowled type; a grim woman of middle age; and her manner suggestedsuspicion. But Clo began to speak first, with her best brogue, which shecould use, when needed, with great effect.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am, for intruding on ye at this time of thenight," said the girl in her creamiest voice, with a child-like smile,"but the lady I'm maid for and me had a quarrel about a young man, andrather than give him up, I just walked away from the house, withoutwaitin' to pack my things. I've walked till I'm played out! I tould yermaid a friend o' mine had spoken o' Mrs. MacMahon's place and I didn'tforget. I'll pay a week in advance if you'll take me in."
Whether Mrs. MacMahon believed these out-pourings was an open question,but her face softened slightly at sound of the brogue.
"Irish, are you!" she said.
"Yes, County Cork, and not over since very long," returned the girl.
"I'm from County Cork, me and me dead husband both," volunteered thewoman. "I've been in New York these twelve years. Violet says you astfor a top-floor room?"
"I did that," said Clo.
"Well, a top-floor room is the only wan I've got vacant. How long wouldye be wanting it for?"
"Oh, a few days, and maybe more."
"You can come and have a look. I don't boast of the room. It's lastchoice. I charge seven dollars with board."
"I don't mind seven dollars," said Clo, and followed her hostess upflight after flight of dimly lighted stairs. They were covered withoilcloth, and the hall smelled of escaping gas, but the girl was almosthappy. The place was not attractive, but it seemed decent enough.
"It's a hall room, but a front one," explained Mrs. MacMahon, panting,as they reached the top of the house. Clo was enchanted to hear this,for it meant that the room must adjoin the one where Churn had pulleddown the blind. She wondered if Churn were married to Kit. Perhaps shewould find out by and by.
"There's a husband and wife come into the double room next," Mrs.MacMahon went on, when she had shown Clo her proposed quarters. "Thewall's kind of thin, for this room was part of the other once, butthey're a quiet couple, I guess: and if you're quiet, too, you won'ttrouble each other. They're friends of a gentleman boarder we've had forsome time, and they've been here to call on him, though they've neverstayed before. I want 'em to be comfortable, so stir around as little asyou can in the morning. I guess they're the kind that lies late in bed."
"I feel more as if I'd like to lie in bed all day!" sighed Clo.
"Well, sleep as much as you like. But don't be scared if ye hear folksmovin' later on to-night. The friend of this couple is out, but he maycome home and want to see 'em."
Clo paid seven dollars in advance for the room, and took pains to showthat she had plenty of money. She begged also to buy or borrow a cleannightgown, and suggested that, if there were a new toothbrush in thehouse, she would be glad to have it. Mrs. MacMahon laughed. A nightgownshe could lend, but as for a toothbrush, there wouldn't be one this sideof the nearest drugstore. Miss Ryan (the name Clo gave) must wait tillnext day.
"Well, anyhow, maybe you've a bit you'll give me to eat!" the newboarder pleaded. "I'm that hungry I could bite off the door-knob! I'llpay extra, of course--this time of night. And your colouredwoman--Violet, isn't she?--shall have a couple of dimes for bringing upthe food."
Mrs. MacMahon softened and asked what food her guest desired. Clodesired nothing so much as a knife, and made a bid to secure one byasking for meat. "Any old kind!--and some bread and milk. I'll givefifty cents--" (she watched the woman's eye)--"I mean, a dollar for mysupper."
When Mrs. MacMahon had gone the girl held her breath to listen. Yes, thewall was thin! She could hear Kit and Churn talking in an ordinary tone,but she could catch few words, even when she laid her ear against thedusty paper. When the voices sank low, they reached her only in anindistinct rumble.
She guessed that the tiny room was separa
ted from the larger one by apartition of laths and plaster, covered on each side with flimsy wallpaper. She could feel as well as hear someone walking up and down, upand down, in the next room! No doubt it was Churn. Now and then he wouldpause. A piece of furniture would creak; then he would jump up, to beginwalking again.
Presently Violet appeared, a coarse nightgown hanging over her arm, aplate of bread and ham on a napkinless tray, and glass of bluish milk.Clo gave the woman twenty cents, and promised the same sum if herbreakfast were brought upstairs. Violet agreed to this bargain, whichwas well for the girl. She would have starved rather than desert herroom long enough to eat while Churn and Kit remained in their quarters.She surmised that they would not often go out.
Clo had told the truth in pleading hunger, but when she was alone andhad locked her door, she took from the tray only the steel knife andfork which lay beside the plate. Having pushed the cot bed away from thewall, she sat down on the floor, Turk fashion. Choosing a spot whichwould be invisible with the bed in place, she waited till Churn wasinclined to walk. Then she began delicately to dig at the plaster withher extemporized tools. Whenever Churn stopped, she stopped also, lestthe rat-like noise should reach alert ears in the next room. For a longtime she toiled, cautiously, slowly, gathering up bits of paper andplaster that fell, and collecting them in her lap. It was a tedioustask, but not difficult. In less than an hour she had made--practicallywithout noise--a hole the size of a silver dollar. It went through tothe lathes; beyond that barrier her tools were of no avail. She needed athin, sharp instrument like a hat-pin, to push between the slats ofwood. A tiny hole would suffice. But she had no hat-pin in theclose-fitting toque lent by Beverley. Her own was now a souvenir inO'Reilly's possession.
She tried hair-pins, but they bent, one after another. Then she searchedfor a nail, and found one at last, stuck in the wall, supporting a smallmirror. Carefully she deposited this upon the bed (it wouldn't do tobreak a looking glass!) and set to work once more. At the end of twentyminutes' scratching, she felt resistance cease before the nail-point.Hastily she withdrew it, lest it should pierce too far; and stretched onthe floor she listened with her ear to the aperture on her side of thewall.