CHAPTER XII
A PRODIGAL PUFFED UP
LEANING on his well elbow, Johnnie related to Mrs. Kukor and Cis andGrandpa the whole story of what had happened to him; and they paid suchrapt attention to him that at the most they did not interrupt him morethan fifteen or twenty times. "And, oh, didn't everything turn out justfine?" he cried in ending. "T' be found by a cowboy and fetched home ina' auto! and--all?"
Mrs. Kukor vowed that she dass-ent to deny how everytink about it wassboth stylish und grand!
Next, he had to hear what had transpired after his departure; how everyone had taken his going, especially Big Tom--now gone out to escortOne-Eye to the taxi.
"I tells to him, 'Sure does Chonnie go for sometink'," declared Mrs.Kukor. But Barber had known better, and contradicted her violently. "Undso I tells to him over that, 'Goot! Goot! if he runs away! In dis houseso much, it ain't healthy for him!' Und I shakes my fingers be-front ofhiss big nose!"
Mrs. Kukor had to go then, remembering with a start that she had afilled fish cooking. She rushed out at a thumping gallop. Then the wholeadventure was told a second time, Johnnie sitting up with Grandpa's hatcocked over one eye, and drawling in fine imitation of their late guest.
When Barber came back, he was not able to let matters pass without abrief scolding for Johnnie, and a threat. "Y' go and git yourself laidup," he complained, coming to stand over the pallet on the floor; "so'syou can't do your work, and earn your keep. Well, a good kick was theright pay for runnin' away. And now let me tell y' this, and I mean it:if y' ever run away again, y' won't git took _back_. Hear me?"
"Yes," answered Johnnie, almost carelessly.
Barber said no more, realizing that if Johnnie could run away once hecould again. Even without grumbling the longshoreman helped Cis to putthe wash to soak in the round, galvanized tub that stood on its sideunder the dish cupboard--a Sunday night duty that was Johnnie's, and wasin preparation for the hated laundry work which he always did so badlyof a Monday.
Late that night, in the closet-room, with the door shut and a stub ofcandle lighted, Johnnie heard Cis's story of what had happened in theflat following her return from the factory, her lunch still in its neatcamera-box.
"I--I just couldn't believe it was so!" she whispered, ready to weep atthe mere recollection of her shock and grief. "And, oh, promise me youwon't ever go away again!" she begged, brown head on one side and tearsin her eyes; "and I'll promise never to leave _you_--never, never,never, _never_!"
Johnnie would not promise. "I'm goin' to be a cowboy," he declaredcalmly; "but after I go, why, I'll come back soon's as I can and takeyou. And maybe, after the Prince is married, you'll forget him, and likea cowboy."
Cis shook her head. Hers was an affection not lightly bestowed noreasily withdrawn from its dear object. "I saw HIM go into theWaldorf-Astoria by the floor on the Thirty-third Street side," sherecalled tenderly. Recollection brought a sweet, far-away look intothose violet-blue eyes.
Johnnie took this moment to fish from his shirt his five books, layingthem one by one on the bed-shelf at Cis's feet, from where she caught upthe new ones, marveling over them.
"I _thought_ there was something funny about your looks," she declared."I kept still, though.--Oh, Johnnie Smith, have you been robbingsomebody?"
When he had enjoyed her excitement and anxiety to the full, she was toldall about the book shop and the millionaire, and the lady, and the bookwith the dollar bill, after which he again showed those books which hehad purchased with the money.
"Oh, you silly!" she cried. "You didn't do anything of the kind! Theybought 'em for you--all those nice people!"
It was hard to convince him, but at last she did, this by pointing outto him the price marked in each book, a sum that took his breath away.Three dollars and a half apiece they were! More than ten altogether!("Und in kesh-money!" Mrs. Kukor marveled afterward, when she knew.)_His_ eyes got a far-away expression as he thought about the generosityof those strangers. Oh, how good strangers were to a person! It almostseemed that the less you knew somebody-- But, no, that was not true,because Mrs. Kukor----
"Tell me more about Mr. One-Eye," whispered Cis. "But what a name for a_man_! He _can't_ be called just that! How could you write him a letter?Don't you know the rest of it, Johnnie? It's One-eye What?"
"Just One-Eye," returned Johnnie. "That's what they all called him.Maybe cowboys don't have two names like common men. What's the good oftwo names, anyhow?"
Cis was shocked. "Everybody has to have two names," she told him,severely. "The first is yours, and is your mother's fav'rite, and theother shows who your father is. Or maybe, if you're a second child, yourmother allows your father to name you. But it's civilized to have twonames, and not a bit nice if you don't--unless you're a dog or a horse."
Johnnie lifted an inspired finger, pointing straight at her."Everybody?" he asked. "Well, what about the Prince of Wales? _His_ nameis Eddie. Eddie _What_?"
"Why--why--" She was confused.
"Horse or dog!" scoffed Johnnie. "Don't you b'lieve it? You mean Princesand cowboys!"
Cis had to admit herself wrong.
"When I heard One-Eye speak, that first time," he informed her, "I wasafraid he was J. J. Hunter, come for _Aladdin_."
They laughed at that, fairly rocking. After which they returned to themore personal aspects of One-Eye. "What makes him keep his hat on?" shewanted to know. "That isn't good manners at _all_. I just know thePrince wouldn't do it. Why, every time I saw the Prince he kept takinghis hat off. My!"
"Cowboys always keep their hats on," Johnnie asserted stoutly. "Maybe ifthey didn't, their horses wouldn't know 'em. Anyhow, they all do. Don'tI know? I saw dozens!"
Well, if they did, then Cis thought them a strange lot. "And do all ofthem chew tobacco?" she persisted. "Because I'm sure _he_ does."
Johnnie was insulted. He denied anything of the kind. He grew heated,resenting this criticism of one who held that cowboys were noble.One-Eye smoked--even when signs said he might not. And could any mansmoke and chew at the same time? He did not believe it, though he waswilling to admit that if any man _could_ perform these two featssimultaneously, that man was certainly the incomparable One-Eye.
"Anyhow, he's awful homely," continued Cis, who could be as irritatingas most girls at times.
Johnnie rose then, cold and proud. "Honest, Cis, you make me sick!" hetold her. "Homely! Huh!" He would have liked to cast an aspersion upon acertain Royal countenance, just to get even, but feared Cis might refuseto hide his books for him. However, he decided that he would never againbe as nice as formerly to King George's son. He left the tiny room, nosein air.
She did not follow him with apologies. And presently he stole back toher door and moved the knob softly. "Cis!" he whispered. "What's avallay?"
She peeped out. "What's a _what_?"
"A v-a-l-l-a-y?"
"Oh!--A valley's a scoopy place between two hills."
A scoopy place between two hills! How like a girl's was the answer! Hercandle was out, her tone sleepy. He did not argue. Flat upon his palletonce more, with both hands under his yellow head, he smiled into theblack of the kitchen, telling himself that he would not change placeswith any boy in the whole of the great sleeping city.