CHAPTER X
THE SURPRISE
"GIT on t' the size of it! . . . . Oh, my Aunt Sally! . . . . Lookeewhat the cat brung in! . . . . Boys, ketch me whilst I faint! . . . . AmI seein' it, or ain't I--w'ich? . . . . Say! they's more down cellar ina teacup!"
Johnnie understood that it was all about himself, and even guessed thathe looked a little queer to these men who appeared so strange to him.They were gathered around in a boisterous circle, exclaiming andlaughing. He revolved slowly, examining each. Some were stocky and somespindling. Two or three were almost boyish; the others, as old asOne-Eye. But in the matter of dress, one was exactly like every otherone--at least so far as could be judged by a small boy in a moment socharged with excitement.
He felt no resentment at their banter, sensing that it was kindly. Heliked them. He liked the great, mysterious basement. He felt preciselylike another Aladdin. No magical smoke had gone up, and no stone hadbeen lifted. Yet here he was in a new and entrancing world!
He would have liked to stay right there at the foot of the stairs for along time, in order to give adequate study to every one of the shaggymen. But One-Eye suddenly grasped him by the hand again and led himaway--down a long, curving alley that took them past a score of horses.Each horse was in a stall of its own, and under each was straw asyellow as Johnnie's own hair. Electric bulbs lit the whole placegrandly, disclosing saddles and straps and other horse gear, hung atintervals along the alley.
In one of his swift visions, he now saw himself as a member of thisfascinating crew, wearing, like them, long, hairy breeches, a wide hat,spurs, and a neckerchief, and setting gaily forth in a cavalcade to beadmired by a marveling city!
Far along, where the alley swerved sharply, One-Eye halted him. Here wasa vacant stall, except that it was half-filled with straw. A coat hungin it, and in the iron feed box in one corner nested a pair of boots.Plainly this was a camping place, and Johnnie thrilled as they turnedinto it, and he stood almost waist deep in clean bedding.
"Have a chair," insisted One-Eye, with a gentle shoulder pat.
Johnnie sat. Even as he went down he felt that he really was coming tounderstand this new friend better. Of course there was no chair. It wasjust the other's way of saying things--an odd, funny way. His backbraced against a stall side, he grinned across at One-Eye, now squattedopposite him, and smoking, this in splendid disregard of a sign whichread plainly: _No Smoking_.
Johnnie did not speak. His experience with Big Tom had taught him atleast one valuable lesson: to be sparing with his tongue. So he waitedthe pleasure of his companion, sunk in a trough of the straw, ringedround with books, his thumbs in his palms and his fingers shut tightupon the thumbs through sheer emotion, which also showed in two redspots on his cheeks.
"Reckon y' don't want t' go out no more t'night," observed One-Eye,after a moment.
"No." Johnnie held his breath, hoping for an invitation.
It came. "Thought y' wouldn't. So camp right here, and to-morra we'llpowwow."
"All right." Johnnie's voice shook with relief and delight; with pride,too, at being thus honored. He rolled up the coat for a pillow whenOne-Eye rose and threw it down to him; and being offered a horseblanket, pulled it up to his brows and lay back obediently, to the perilof the orange, which was under him, and so to his own discomfort.
"So long, sonny." The single green eye gleamed down at him almostaffectionately from under the wide brim.
"Thank y'," returned Johnnie.
For a long time he lay without moving, this for fear One-Eye might comeback. When he took his books out of his shirt, he did not read, thoughthe stall was brightly lighted, only watched a pair of nervous brownears that kept showing above the stall-side in front of him. Somethingwas troubling him very much. It seemed to be something in his forehead;but it was in his throat most of all; though that spot at the end of hisbreastbone felt none too well.
Whatever it was, it had a great deal to do with Cis (the mere thought ofher made his eyes smart) and with Grandpa. Freedom and new friends hehad; more books, too, than he could read in a year--or so it seemed tohim as he measured the pile under the orange. Then why, having the bestbed he had known since the one with the blue knobs at Aunt Sophie's, whycould he not go to sleep? or, if he was not sleepy, why did he not wantto read? or summon to him Aladdin, or David with Goliath, or Mr.Rockefeller?
He pulled hard at his hair.
The truth was, he was learning something about himself. He was findingout that to get away from danger was only part of his problem: the otherpart was to get away from his own thoughts, his feelings--in short, hisconscience. For try as he might, as he lay there, he could not keep thewheel chair out of his sight!
It stood before him in the yellow bedding, and the little old man seatedin it kept holding out trembling hands. The thin, bearded face wasdistorted pathetically, and tears streamed from the faded eyes. IfJohnnie turned his head away from the chair, he met other eyes--eyesyoung and blue and gentle. Poor Cis, so shy always, and silent; soloving and good!
Down into One-Eye's coat went Johnnie's small nose, and so hard that tothis unfreckled feature was instantly transferred the pain in hisforehead and throat and breast; and his hurt was for a moment changedinto the physical, which was easier to bear. Yes, they were left behindalone, those two who were so dear to him.
Even with the horse blanket over both ears he could hear the wheel chairgoing from the stove to the window, from the window to the hall door,while the old soldier whimpered and called. He could hear Cis call,too--his name. But it was Grandpa who hurt him the most. Cis was quitegrown-up, and had girl friends, and her work, and the freedom to go toand from it. But Grandpa!--his old heart was wrapped up in his Johnnie.So childish that he was virtually a little boy, he had for Johnnie therespect and affection that a little boy gives to a bigger one.
Next, bright, shining, birdlike eyes were smiling at him--Mrs. Kukor!The horse blanket shook. At either side of Johnnie's nose a damp spotcame on One-Eye's coat.
But fortunately the trembling and the tears were seen by no human eyes,only by a brown pair that belonged to those brown ears. And presently,when the nearest lights went out, leaving Johnnie's retreat in gloom,the pictures that smote him changed to those of a sleeping dream, and hewandered on and on through a vast white garden that grew hats andcoats--in a double row.
When he wakened, the lights were on again. As he rose he made up hismind to win One-Eye's consent to his remaining in this big palace--whichhad turned out to be a horse palace. "'Cause I dassn't go back!" hedecided. The enormity of what he had done in leaving the flat andstaying away a whole night, he now realized. A creepy feeling traveledup and down his spine at the thought of it, and he shook to hiscalloused heels.
Then with a grin, he remembered that no one knew where he belonged.Furthermore, as One-Eye did not believe that Johnnie Smith was his realname, he had only to hint that he was somebody else, which would throwhis new friend completely off the track.
He leaned against the stall and pulled at his hair, considering thatproblem of staying on. To his way of thinking, there was only one goodscheme by which to win the approbation of anybody, and that scheme waswork. So when he had tugged at his hair till the last straw was out ofit, he pattered off down the runway, determined to find some task thatneeded to be done.
The great place appeared strangely deserted as to men. So he came acrossno one whom he could help. As for the occupants of the giant circle ofstalls, he did not know what service he could offer them. He felt fairlysure that horses' faces were not washed of a morning. And they had allbeen fed. But why not comb their hair? Searching up and down for apossible comb, he spied a bucket. Then he knew what he could do.
The job was not without its drawbacks. For one thing, the horses wereafraid of him. They wrenched at their hitching-chains when he came closeto their heels, or blew noisily, or bunched themselves into the forwardends of their stalls, turning on him startled, white-rimmed eyes. Heoffered the dripping bucket only to t
he more quiet ones.
He worked his way down the long line that stood nearest the spigot, nowstaggering and splashing as he lugged a full pail, now scampering backhappily with an empty one. And he was beside a stairway, and on thepoint of taking in a drink to the horse stalled closest to the entrance,when he heard several voices, the creak of doors, and footsteps. So hepaused, the bucket swinging from both hands, until half a dozen pairs ofshaggy legs appeared just above him. Then as the big hats were bobbinginto view, so that he knew his labors could be seen and appreciated, hefaced round with the pail and entered the stall.
The next moment there sounded a dull bang, followed by the loud ring oftin, a breathless cry, and the swish of flying water--as Johnnie camehurtling headlong out of the stall, the bucket preceding him, a shodhoof in his immediate wake, and the contents of the pail showering inall directions. There was a second bang also dull, as he landed againstthe bottom step of the stairs at the very feet of the horrified men.
A chorus of cries went up. But Johnnie's voice was not a part of it.Hurt, winded, and thoroughly scared, he lay in a little ragged heap, abook thrusting up the big shirt here and there, so that he looked tohave broken not a few bones.
"That flea-bit mare!" charged One-Eye, dropping Johnnie's breakfast andpicking up the boy.
"Pore kid! . . . . And he was workin'! . . . . Is he hurt bad? . . . .That ongrateful bronc'! . . . . Totin' the blamed thing water,too!"--thus they sympathized with him as he swayed against One-Eye, whowas steadying him on his feet.
Breath and tears came at the same moment--the latter in spite of him.But he wept in anger, in disappointment and chagrin and resentment,rather than in pain. The books having now fallen into place in the pouchof the shirt, it was evident there were no fractures.
"Shore of it," pronounced One-Eye. "I've felt him all over."
Furthermore, a book had undoubtedly received the full force of theimplanted hoof; and save for a darkening patch on Johnnie's left arm, hewas as good as ever, though slightly damp as to both spirits andclothing. For it was his feelings that were the more injured. Hisproffer of a drink had been repaid by an ignominious kick that hadlanded upon him under the very eyes of those whom he most wanted toimpress.
"Now what'd Mister Vanderbilt say if he knowed!" mourned One-Eye; "orMister Astor! They'd be plumb sore on me!--My! my! my!"
These remarks shifted Johnnie's inner vision to other scenes, and havingalready guessed that he was not broken in two, he considered One-Eye'splaint with something of a twinkle in his eyes, and fell once more todragging at his hair.
Willing hands now refilled the battered bucket and washed his tear-wetface. After which One-Eye recovered the breakfast--an egg sandwich and abanana--and proceeded to lay down the law.
"With that hurt arm o' your'n, sonny," he began, "it's back to home,sweet home. And if that feller, Tom, licks y', w'y, I'll jes' nat'allylick him."
"You couldn't lick him," informed Johnnie, turning his sandwich about insearch for a location thin enough to admit of a first bite. "He's thestrongest longshoreman in N'York. He can carry five sacks of flour onhis back, and one under both arms."
Disdainfully One-Eye lifted his lone brow, and he passed over theremark. "The point is," he continued, "that if y' ever figger t' goback, now's the time."
Johnnie saw the argument. And to his own surprise he found himselfwilling to go. "Prob'ly Big Tom'll only pull my ear," he saidphilosophically. "And he won't do that much, even, if--if _you_'ll goalong."
"Will I!" cried One-Eye. "Wal, it'd take a twenty-mule team t' holt meback!"
"Honest?" For this fellow was a wag, and there was no telling what hereally meant to do.
"If I don't, I'll eat my shaps!" promised One-Eye.
"Then I guess you better tie up my arm," went on Johnnie, which bit ofinspired diplomacy sent the whole sympathizing group into whoops oflaughter.
"Ain't he the ticket?" demanded one man.
One-Eye 'lowed that he was.
The tying was done. First the purplish spot was swathed in white; and asthe injury was below the raveling edge of the sleeve, the bandage was inplain sight, and carried conviction with it. Next a sling was made outof a blue-patterned handkerchief of One-Eye's. Proudly Johnniecontemplated the dressing. Here was not only insurance against awhipping, but that which lent him a peculiar and desirable distinction.
"You'll go all the way up with me?" he asked One-Eye. (Now was the timeto make sure of the future.) "Y' see it's Sunday. He'll be home."
"Up and in," vowed the latter. "Come along!"
There were hearty good-bys to be said, and Johnnie had his well armthoroughly shaken before One-Eye helped him climb the stairs. He wouldgladly have prolonged his leave-taking. For one thing, he had not halfinspected that mammoth basement--not to mention the huge, dim placeoverhead. And the horse that had kicked him merited a second look. But"Let's go whilst the goin's good," counseled One-Eye. So Johnnie fell inbeside him, holding well to the front that interesting bandage.
"Y' live far?" One-Eye wanted to know. This was when they were out bythat lamp post which had lighted Johnnie's reading.
"Clear 'way down to the other end of Broadway almost," boasted Johnnie."'N' then you go over towards the Manhattan Bridge."
"That so! Clear way down!--And how'd y' git up this far?" That green eyewas as keen as a blade.
"Rode up--in a' automobile." Johnnie did not like to spoil the pictureby explaining that the automobile was a truck, and that he had found itstrewn with chicken-feathers.
"All right," returned One-Eye. "Then we'll ride _down_." Inserting aknuckle into his mouth between two widely separated teeth that were likelone sentinels, he blew a high, piercing summons. At the same time, heswung his arm at a passing taxicab, stopping it almost electrically. Andthe thing was done.
As the taxicab rolled to the curb, Johnnie turned his back upon it for alast look at the palace. How huge it was! "And I'll bet the Afercanmagician couldn't even move it," he decided. He promised himself thatone day he would come back to it, and climb to its several towers.
"A-a-a-a-all aboard!" One-Eye lit a large, magnificently banded cigar.He handed a second, fully as thick and splendid, to the staring, butrespectful, individual who was to drive them--a young, dark man, verydirty, and in his shirt-sleeves (he was seated upon his coat), whoseemed so impressed by the elder of his passengers as to be beyondspeech. "Over t' Broadway, and down," instructed One-Eye. "We'll tell y'when t' whoa."
Calmly Johnnie climbed into the taxicab, and carelessly he took hisseat. Then the car plunged westward before a reeking cloud of its ownsmoke. Under way, he elevated that small nose of his and drank deep ofthe--to him--good smell of gasoline. Had not his Aunt Sophie oftenpronounced it clean and healthy?
However, despite this upward tilting, he did not appear to be at allproud of the fact that he was riding; and One-Eye fell to watching him,that green eye round with wonder. For here was this little ragamuffinseated high and dry in a first class taxi, and speeding through the cityin style, yet with the supreme indifference of a young millionaire!
"City younguns shore take the bak'ry!" One-Eye observed admiringly,aiming the remark at his driver, who sat somewhat screwed about on hisseat in such a way that he could, from block to block, as some other carslowed his machine, regale his astonished eyes with those fur-frontedbreeches.
"Oh, this banana'll be enough," politely returned Johnnie, having caughtthe word bakery but missed the real meaning of the statement. Calmly asever, he divested the fruit of its skin and cast the long peelings uponthe floor of the cab. In his time he had sat for hours at a stretch inthe regal limousines of Uncle Albert's rich man; and he regarded ataxicab without awe.
One-Eye chuckled.
Presently Johnnie was dragging at his mop as he ate. Which was proofthat he was meditating. Indeed he was thinking so hard that he failed tonote the large amount of attention which he and his companion wereattracting. So far he had not mentioned Grandpa to this friendlystranger--this for
fear of harming his own case, of hastening his returnhome. Now the omission somehow appeared to be almost a denial of thetruth. Nor had he spoken of Cis. All this called for correction beforethe flat was reached.
By way of clearing up the whole matter, he began with an introduction ofCis. "There's a girl lives where I do," he announced casually.
"Y' don't say! Sister? Cousin? She must 'a' missed y'."
"No relation at all. But she's awful nice--I like her. She's sixteen,goin' on seventeen, and I'm goin' t' steal her away soon's ever I growup."
"I git y'.--Say, Mister, go slow with this gasoline bronc' of your'n! Y'know I'd like t' see little old Cheyenne oncet more before I checkin,"--this to the chauffeur, as the taxicab shaved the flank of a streetcar going at high speed, then caromed to rub axles with a brothermachine.
"You'll meet her," promised Johnnie, who did not think they were goingtoo fast, and who had completely forgotten it was Sunday, which meantthat Cis would be at home without fail; "'cause once before, when Iburnt my hand, she stayed away from work two whole days. Big Tom neverlets Grandpa be alone." (He thought that rather a neat way to bring inthe old man.)
With a sidewise tipping of the big hat, One-Eye directed a searchinglook to the bare head at his elbow. "Other days, _you_ take care of saidole man," he returned.
Johnnie nodded. "I like him."
The silence that followed was embarrassing. He knew One-Eye was watchinghim. But not liking to glance up, he was unable to judge of hiscompanion's attitude. So he began again, changing the subject. "Cis isawful pretty," he confided. "Once she was a May Queen in Central Parkfor her class at school, only it wasn't in May, and she had all the icecream she could eat. Mrs. Kukor made her a white dress for that time,and I made some art'ficial vi'lets for 'round her hair. Oh, she lookedfine! And she saw the Prince of Wales when he was in N'York and eversince she's liked just him."
One-Eye took the cigar from his mouth. "It'd be a grand match for her,"he conceded. His tone implied that the alliance with Royalty was by nomeans a remote possibility.
"A-a-a-aw!" scoffed Johnnie, flashing up at One-Eye a wise smile. "Allthe girls at Cis's fac'try seen him, too, and they all like him just thesame as she does. But the Prince, he's got t' marry a Princess."
One-Eye agreed. "Pretty tough," he observed sympathetically, and wentback to his cigar.
"So Cis'll have t' marry a movin'-picture actor," concluded Johnnie;"--or a cowboy."
At that the cigar fairly popped from One-Eye's countenance. "A cowboy!"he cried, the green eye dancing. "W'y, that'd be better'n a Prince!"
"It would?" Johnnie considered the idea.
"Certainly would--t' _my_ way of thinkin'." In their brief acquaintanceOne-Eye had never before shown such interest, such animation.
"How d' you mean?"
"I mean," answered One-Eye, stoutly, "that cowboys is _noble_ fellers!"
Before Johnnie could argue the matter further, or ask any one of thethousand questions that he would have liked to get explained regardingcowboys, the driver interrupted to demand how much farther southward hewas expected to go; and as Chambers Street was even then just ahead, theeastern turn was made at once, which set Johnnie off along a new line ofthought--his coming ordeal.
And this ordeal was not the meeting with Big Tom, which he dreadedenough, but which he believed would not have to be endured for at leastsome hours; it was the having to face, in company with this rich andimportant acquaintance, that gang of boys who so delighted to taunt him.
Anxiously his gray eyes searched ahead of the taxicab, which was nowpicking its way too swiftly through streets crowded with children. Thisability to invest the present with all the reality of the future, howwonderful it could be!--but how terrible! For he was suffering greatlyin advance, and writhing on the leather-covered seat, and all butpulling out his yellow hair.
"Arm ache y'?" One-Eye wanted to know.
"Guess so," faltered Johnnie. Then his face turned a sickly pale, and heshouldered a bit closer to his escort. A feeling of suffocation meantthat his breath had stopped. And upon his untanned forehead oozed theperspiration of dismay. Also, his cheeks mottled. For just before themwere two of those boys whom he feared!--as if they had sprung from aseam in the sidewalk! They were staring at the taxicab. They werelooking at Johnnie (who stole a nervous look back). Now they werefollowing on!
Johnnie's jaw set; his teeth clenched. He steeled himself to bear publicinsult.
Too many children had now brought the taxicab down to a crawling gait.Slowly it rolled on through shouting, Sunday-garbed youngsters. And fastgrew the crowd which kept pace with it. But it was a silent crowd, asJohnnie's ears told him, for his chin was on his breast and his eyeswere fixed upon the meter--in agony, as if he, and not One-Eye, wouldhave to pay a charge which had already mounted high in three figures._Why_ was that crowd silent? And what were those boys preparing todo--two were now several--who held all things in scorn? who made eventhe life of the patrolman on the beat a thing to be dreaded?
The uncertainty was crushing.
"Home in a jiffy," soothed One-Eye, who felt sure the ride had been toomuch of a strain.
"Stop here," whispered Johnnie, catching sight, after a turn or two, ofone of those entrances which gave to the area.
The taxicab stopped. In a hush that actually hurt, One-Eye rose anddescended, flipping a five-dollar bill to the driver. "But don't yougo," he directed. "I'll want y' t' tote me back uptown."
Johnnie rose then--feebly. Once more he held that bandaged arm to thefront. His faltering eyes said that the injury was a plea--a plea forcourteous treatment before this distinguished stranger. Oh, he knew hewas a girlish-headed ragbag, but if they would only spare him this once!
One-Eye took his hand. "Step careful, sonny," he advised, almosttenderly. Then to those pressing round, "Back up, won't y'? Give thisboy room? Don't y' see he's hurt?"
This was what so emboldened Johnnie that he decided, even as a bare footsought the running-board of the machine, to take one good look around.He paused, therefore, lifted his head, and let his glance deliberatelysweep the crowd.
What he saw fairly took his breath; brought a flush to his sober littleface, and strengthened him, body and soul--but especially spine. Forbefore him was a staring, admiring, respectful, yes, and fascinated,even awe-struck, assemblage. There were grown people in it. There weremore above, to both sides, leaning out of windows. And every mouth waswide!
Was it One-Eye in his startling garb? or the professional touch to hisown appearance, in the shape of that dramatic, handkerchief-slung arm?or was it both?
No matter. Instantly reacting to this solemn reception, Johnnie manageda pale smile. "Much obliged!"--this he said gaily as his feet touchedthe concrete. He was experiencing such pride as had been his before onlyin his "thinks."
This was a moment never to be forgotten!
"Now maybe I better lead--ha?" What satisfaction there was in addressingOne-Eye thus familiarly in the teeth of the enemy!
"Break trail!" said One-Eye. Then, "Gangway!" he sang out to the crowd.Next, with a swift circular fling of an arm, he scattered a handful ofsmall coins to right and left upon the street.
The crowd swayed, split, and scattered like the money. A path cleared.One-Eye at his side, Johnnie stepped forward.
Now he would have liked to hang back, to loiter a bit, delaying theirdisappearance, and enjoying the situation. But One-Eye, ignoring everyone, as if crowds bored him, was headed for the hall like a fox to itshole, taking long, impressive, shaggy-legged strides.
Behind, the boys Johnnie had feared scrambled without shame forOne-Eye's small silver. While he, the "Old clothes," the "Girl's hair,"the mocked and despised, was walking, as man with man, beside thewonderful One-Eye before whom those same boys had not dared to utter asingle slur!
His satisfaction was complete!
"Home again!" he cried, feeling ready to do a hop-skip except that itwould take away from the effect they had made.
Oh
, he could stand a whipping in the privacy of the flat if a whippingwas waiting for him at the top of those three flights--now that thispublic part of the return had gone so magnificently!