CHAPTER IX
ONE-EYE
HE left the Avenue, turning east. Now all plans concerning Broadway weregiven up; also, he felt no anxiety about getting lost. For he went atrandom.
Yet he was businesslike, and walked rapidly. No window, howeverbeautiful, lured him to pause. He did not waste a single minute. Andsoon he was gazing up at a really imposing and colossal structure which,big as it looked (for it seemed to occupy a whole block), was plainlynot in use. At one corner the building mounted to a peak. On going allthe way around it, he discovered smaller peaks at each of the othercorners. There were any number of entrances, too; and, of course, fireescapes.
It suited him finely. On one side of this old palace--for he was sure itcould be nothing short of a palace--was a flight of steps which led upto a small door. This entrance was an inconspicuous one, which could notbe said of the several porticoed entrances. Beside the steps, in theangle made by the meeting of the wall with them, was conveniently set asmall, pine box. Johnnie had hunted a vacant building with the intentionof entering it. But now he decided to read first, and steal into thepalace later, under cover of the dark. Down he sat upon the box, out ofthe way of a breeze that was wafting a trifle too freshly through thestreet.
One by one he took out the three books he had just bought, this inorder to give them a closer scrutiny than the store had afforded him;and to start with he met that "glorious company, the flower of men," whomade up the Table Round, and who, if the colored pictures of them wereto be believed, made his mounted policeman of an hour before seem asorry figure. And their names were as splendid as theirphotographs--Launcelot, and Gawain, Gareth and Tristram and Galahad.Remembering that he was called Johnnie, he felt quite sick.
When, after poring over the half-dozen illustrations, he was forced tothe conclusion that nothing could surpass the knights of King Arthur, heopened _The Last of the Mohicans_ and found himself captured, heart andsoul, by the even more enticing Uncas and his fellows, superb bronzecreatures, painted and feathered, and waving tomahawks that far outshoneany blunt lance.
He had to change his mind again. For bringing himself to tuck away hisIndians and fetch forth _Treasure Island_, he was rewarded by the sightof a piratical crew who easily surpassed even the redmen. The fiercestof these pirates, a gentleman by the name of Long John Silver, waswithout question the pick of the lot. To begin with, Mr. Silverundoubtedly belonged to the New York family of peg legs, which, ofcourse, brought him nearer than his brother pirates. However, whatespecially recommended him was a pistol-filled belt.
"Gee! I'm glad I got mine!" Johnnie declared, since the chief-pirate'sbelt was strikingly like the one binding in Big Tom's cast-off clothes;and he willingly forgot what the strap of leather had done to him in thepast in realizing its wonderful possibilities for the future.
Finally he was ready to begin reading. He was loyal to his friendAladdin then, whom he had left, on the fatal stroke of twelve, in ratherdire straits. The Oriental wonder book on his knees, he resumed theenthralling story, his lips and fingers moving, and--in the excitementof it all--his misty eyebrows twisting like two caterpillars.
Pedestrians hurried past him, motor vehicles and surface-cars spedby--for Fourth Avenue lay in front; but what he saw was Aladdin inchains; Aladdin before the executioner; Aladdin pardoned, yet aghastover the loss of his palace and the beloved Buddir al Buddoor, and readyto take his own life.
The afternoon went swiftly. Evening came. But the nearest street lampwas lighted in advance of the dark. Engrossed by the awful dramatranspiring in Africa, where Aladdin and his Princess were plotting torid themselves of the magician, Johnnie did not know when lamplight tookthe place of daylight.
_The Princess, who began to be tired with this impertinent declarationof the African magician, interrupted him and said, "Let us drink first,and then say what you will afterwards;" at the same time she set the cupto her lips, while the African magician, who was eager to get his wineoff first, drank up the very last drop. In finishing it, he had reclinedhis head back to show his eagerness, and remained some time in thatstate. The Princess kept the cup at her lips, till she saw his eyes turnin his head----_
"Hurrah!" cried Johnnie, relieved at this fortunate end of the crisis,for his very hair was damp with anxiety. "His eyes've turned in hishead!"
"Wal, by the Great Horn Spoon!"
This strange exclamation, drawled in a nasal tone, came from the stepsat his back. He started up, jerking sidewise to get out of reach of thehands that belonged to the voice, and clutching his book to him. But ashe faced the speaker, who was peering down at him from the top of thesteps, wonder took the place of apprehension.
For to his astonished and enraptured gaze was vouchsafed a mostinteresting man--a man far and beyond and above anybody he had everbefore beheld in the flesh. This person was tall and slender, and wore ablue shirt, a plaid vest hanging open but kept together with a leatherwatchchain, a wide, high, gray hat, and--most wonderful of all--a pairof breeches which, all down the front, were as hairy as any dog!
It was the breeches that gave the stranger his startling and admirableappearance--the breeches and his face. For directly under the hat, whichwas worn askew, was one round, greenish eye, set at the upper end of anose that was like a triangle of leather. The eye held the geographicalcenter of the whole countenance, this because its owner kept his headtipped, precisely as if he had a stiff neck. Under the leathery nose,which seemed to have been cut from the same welt as the watchchain, wasa drooping, palish mustache, hiding a mouth that had lost too manyteeth. As for the other eye, it was brushed aside under the band of thehat.
"Gee!" breathed Johnnie. Wearing fur trousers instead of a fur collar,here, without doubt, was a new kind of millionaire!
The latter took a cigar out of an upper vest pocket and worried one endof it with a tooth. "It's half-pas' seven, sonny," he said.
Johnnie backed another step. Half-past seven gave him a swift vision ofthe flat--Grandpa asleep, Barber pacing the splintery floor in a rage,Cis weeping at the window, Mrs. Kukor waddling about, talking withtongue and hands. He had no mind to be made a part of that picture. Heresolved to answer no questions, while with a dexterous movement heslipped Aladdin into his shirt and got ready to run.
The other now sat down, scratched a match nonchalantly on a step, andlet the light shine into that single green eye as he set an end of thecigar afire; after which he proceeded to blow smoke through his nose ina masterly fashion, following up that feat with a series of perfectsmoke rings.
Still on his guard, Johnnie studied the smoker. The big gray hat came toa peak--like the highest corner of the empty palace. Below the hairytrousers the lower parts of a pair of black boots shone so brightly thatthey carried reflections even at that late hour. The boots were taperedoff by spurs.
What was there about this man that made him seem somehow familiar?Johnnie puzzled over it. And decided at last, correctly enough, as itturned out, that the explanation lay in those shaggy trousers.
He was not afraid to make an inquiry. "Mister," he began politely,"where did y' buy your pants?"
The effect of this question was startling. The man pushed back his hat,threw up his head, rescued the burning cigar, then emitted an almostcatlike yowl. For some minutes several people had been watching him froma respectful distance. Now, hearing the yowl, these onlookers drew near.He rose then, instantly sober, set the hat forward, descended the steps,and held out a friendly left hand to Johnnie.
"Come on, sonny," he coaxed. "Ain't it eatin' time? Let's go andpur-_chase_ some grub."
Johnnie, for all that he had been practically a recluse these pastseveral years, had, nevertheless, the metropolite's inborn indifferenceto the passerby. He had scarcely noticed the steadily increasing groupbefore the steps. Now he ignored them all. He was hungry. Thatinvitation to partake of food was welcome.
He advanced and held out a hand. The one-eyed man grasped it, descendedthe last step or two, pushed his way through the crowd without look
ingto right or left, and led Johnnie down the street at such a pace thatthe bare feet were put to the trot--which was not too fast, seeing thatsupper lay somewhere ahead.
Johnnie felt proud and flattered. He made up his mind to be seen talkingto his tall companion as they fared along. "Guess you're not alongshoreman," he said, to begin the conversation.
"Me?" drawled the other; then, mysteriously, "Wal, sonny, I'll tell y':if I am, I ain't never yet found it out!"
Then silence for half a block. Johnnie studied his next remark. Thedirect way was the most natural to him. He tried another query."And--and what do y' do?" he asked.
"Do?"--this stranger seemed to have Grandpa's habit of repeating thelast word. "Oh, I val-lay a hoss."
Johnnie was no wiser than before, but he felt it good manners to appearenlightened. "You--you do that back there?" he ventured next.
"Yeppie. In the Garden."
Now Johnnie was hopelessly lost. Val-lay meant nothing, hoss even less;as for a garden, he vaguely understood what that was: a place wherebeans grew, and potatoes; yes, and wizen-faced prunes. But though he hadcircled about the neighborhood considerably since leaving the bookstore,he had caught no glimpse of any garden--except that one belonging toAladdin. Ah, that was it! This strange man's garden was down a flight ofsteps!
"Do you grow cabbages in your garden?" he asked, "or--or diamonds?"
"How's that?" demanded the other; then as if he had recovered from amomentary surprise, "Oh, a little of both."
"Both!"
"But--but this ain't what you'd call a good year for diamonds. Nope. Toomany cutworms."
Johnnie wanted to ask if all gardeners wore hairy trousers. Thenthought of a subject even more interesting. "Mister,"--he put a note ofgenuine sympathy into his voice--"how'd you come t' lose your eye?"
"My eye?"--Grandpa's habit again. "Wal, this is how"-- He frowned withthe eye he had left, and pursed his lips till his mustache stood outfearsomely.
"Yes?" encouraged Johnnie, whose mind was picturing all sorts ofexciting events in which the tall man, as the hero, fought and wasinjured, yet conquered his enemies.
"Sonny," the other went on sadly, "I jes' natu'lly got my eye pinched inthe door."
Pinched in the door! Johnnie stared. _Pinched in the door?_ How couldthat happen? What might a man be doing that such an accident should cometo pass? He put his free hand to one of his own eyes, fingering itinquiringly.
Before he could come to any conclusion, the one-eyed man had haltedbefore the blazing, glassed-in front of a restaurant that fairly dazzledthe sight. It was, as Johnnie saw, such a place as only millionairescould afford to frequent. In the very front of it, behind that platewindow, stood men in white, wearing spotless caps, who were cookingthings in plain view of the street. And inside--for the one-eyed man nowboldly opened a door and entered, drawing Johnnie after him--were moremen in white, and women similarly garbed. The high walls of the greatroom were white too, like the hall of a sultan's palace. And seated atlong tables were splendidly attired men and women, enjoying their supperas calmly as if all this magnificence were nothing to them--nothing,though the tables were of marble!
However, every man and woman in the wonderful place showed markedexcitement on the appearance of Johnnie and his escort. They stoppedeating. And how they stared! They bent to all sides, whispering. For amoment, Johnnie felt sure that, ragged as he was, the palace did notwant him, and that he was about to be ordered out. He hung back, wishingwith all his heart that he had done his hanging back earlier, outsidethe door, for instance.
Then, relief; for he recognized that all the interest was kindly. One ofthe ladies in white--a beautiful, stately person--showed them grandly tochairs at either side of a table; a second lady brought them each aglass of ice water, and condescended to listen to their wants in thesupper line. About them people smiled cordially.
The one-eyed man was now bareheaded. And Johnnie, just as he was leaningback, prepared to enjoy himself to the full, suddenly noted, and with apang, that his host, shorn of his headgear, was far less attractive inappearance than when covered; did not seem the strange, rakish,picturesque, almost wild figure of a moment before, but civilized,slick, and mild.
For one thing, that shut eye was in full view, which subtracted from thebrigandish look of his countenance; for another, the shaggy trouserswere--naturally--in total eclipse. Then he had mouse-colored hair whichmatched his mustache, whereas it should have been black--or bright red.To make matters worse, the hair had recently been wet-combed. It wasalso fine and thin, especially over the top of the head, from where ithad been brought straight down upon the forehead in a long, smooth,shining bang which (and this not a quarter-inch too soon) turned tosweep left. Contrasting with the oily appearance of the bang were somehairs at the very crown of the head. These--a few--leaned this way andthat, making a wild tuft.
Johnnie wished with his whole heart that the stranger would again put onhis hat.
Another feature thrust itself upon Johnnie's notice. Out from the frontof his host's throat, to the ruination of such scant good looks as hehad, protruded an Adam's apple that was as large and tanned andtough-looking as his nose. On that brown prominence a number of longpale hairs had their roots. These traveled now high, now low, as theone-eyed man drank deep of the ice water. And Johnnie felt that heunderstood the sad quiet of this queer, tall person. In his case thestork had been indeed cruel.
The hat was swinging from a near-by hook--one of a double line of hooksdown the long room. Under the hat was a sign. Johnnie read it; thencentered his stare on the hat. At any moment he expected to witnesssomething extraordinary. That was because across the placard, in neat,black letters, were the words: _Watch your Hat and Coat_.
He reached to touch the one-eyed man. "Say, Mister!" he whispered, "Y'see what it says? Well, what'll happen if we watch?"
"Huh!" ejaculated the other, slewing that one green eye round to glanceupward. "That's jes' it! If y' watch, _nuthin'll_ happen!"
It was a good thing to know at the moment. For the second lady was back,bringing supper with her--a smoking dish of mingled meat and vegetables,another of pork and beans, a cup of coffee, a glass of milk, an orange,and bread and butter.
Butter! Johnnie could scarcely believe his eyes. He almost thought thiswas one of Buckle's meals, and that the butter would melt, figurativelyspeaking, before his longing look. But it stayed, a bright pat, asyellow as his own hair, on a doll's dish of a plate. And as Johnnie hadnot tasted butter for a very long time, he proceeded now, after themanner of the male, to clear that cunning little dish by eating thechoicest thing first.
As for the one-eyed man, his knife, held in his left hand, was going upand down between the dish of beans and his mouth with mechanicalregularity. At the bean dish, he covered the long blade with a ruddyheap. Then balancing it all nicely, he swung it ceiling-ward, met ithalf-way by a quick duck of the mouse-covered head, and swept it cleanwith a dextrous, all-enveloping movement.
Johnnie was hungry too. The butter gone, along with its complement ofbread, he attacked his share of the meat and vegetables, using, however(which was to Cis's credit), a fork. The dish was delicious. He forgoteven the placard.
So far the one-eyed man had proven to be anything but a talkativeperson. Under the circumstances this was just as well. Johnnie could nothave shared just then in a conservation. Twice during the meal hereached down and let out the strap a hole or two. And for the first timein his life he was grateful for the roominess of Barber's old clothes.
Half an hour, and Johnnie was, as he himself expressed it, "stuffed likea sausage." The orange, he dropped into his shirt-band to find a placewith the books, there being no space for it internally.
"Full up, eh?" demanded the one-eyed man, mopping at his mustache sohard with a paper napkin that Johnnie expected to see the hairy growthcome away from its moorings under the leathery nose.
"It was a feast!" pronounced Johnnie, borrowing from the language of hisfriend Aladdin. A moment later he
gasped as he saw his host carelesslyring a fifty-cent piece upon the gorgeous marble of the table top. Thenthe meal had cost so much as that! As he trotted doorward in the wake ofthe spurred heels, his boy's conscience faintly smote him. He almostfelt that he had eaten too much.
"My goodness!" he murmured, his glance missing the variegated mosaic ofthe floor.
But still another moment, and the one-eyed man had halted at a deskwhich stood close to the front door, and was throwing down a one-dollarbill, together with some silver.
Johnnie knew something was wrong. His host was forgetful, absent-minded.He realized that he must interfere. "You jus' paid the lady!" he warnedin a hasty whisper.
The other nodded sadly as he settled the big hat. "Yeppie," he returned."But y' see, sonny, it's this-away: if you got jes' one eye, w'y, theymake y' pay twicet!"
Another gasp. It was so grossly unfair!
However it had all proved to him beyond a doubt that here was a man ofunlimited wealth. On several occasions Uncle Albert's millionaire hadtreated Johnnie to candy and apples. But now the riches of that personseemed pitifully trivial.
They fared forth and away in the same order as they had come.
But not so silently. Food, it seemed, was what could rouse the one-eyedman to continued speech. He began to ask questions, all of them to thepoint, most of them embarrassing.
"Say, what in the name o' Sam Hill y' got cached inside thatshirt?"--this was the first one.
"Books," returned Johnnie, promptly, "and the orange."
"Y' kinda cotton t' books, eh?" the other next observed.
"Not cotton," replied Johnnie, politely. "They're made of paper."
"Y' don't tell me?--And what y' want me t' call y'?"
"My--my--my," began Johnnie, trying to think and speak at the same time,with small success in either direction. Then feeling himself pressedfor time, and helpless, he fell back upon the best course, which was thesimple truth. "My name's Johnnie Smith," he added.
The truth was too simple to be believed, "Aw, git out!" laughed theone-eyed man, with a comical lift of the mustache. "And I s'pose y' livewith the Vanderbilt fambly, eh?"
Johnnie's eyes sparkled. There was in the question a certainsomething--an ignoring of bare facts--which made him believe that thisman and he were kindred souls.
"No, I don't live with 'em," he hastened to say. "But I talk to MisterVanderbilt ev'ry day on the tel'phone."
The stranger seemed neither doubtful nor amazed. Johnnie liked himbetter and better. Taking a fresh hold of the other's horny hand, hechattered on: "I talked to Mister Astor yesterday. He asked me t' goridin' with him, but I had t' take a trip t' Niagarry."
"Hope y' didn't hurt his feelin's none,"--the tone was grave: that onegreen eye looked anxious.
Johnnie only shook his head. He did not care to go further with thediscussion of the Astor-Smith friendship.
However, the one-eyed man himself turned the conversation, "Goin' backhome t'night?" he wanted to know.
Johnnie raised startled eyes. "N-n-no," he returned. "I-i-if I was to,I'd have to take a terrible lickin'."
"Mm." The one-eyed man seemed to understand; then, presently, "Yourpaw?--or your maw?"
"No relation at _all_," protested Johnnie. "Just the man where I live."
"He feeds y' O. K.," put in the other. "I was noticin' back yonder inthe chuck-house how plump y' are."
Johnnie said nothing. There were things he could tell, if he wanted to,which had to do with comparisons between Aunt Sophie's table and BigTom's. But these things would contradict the one-eyed man; and Johnnieknew from experience that grown-ups do not like to be contradicted.
Just ahead was that great palace, lifting dark towers against theglowing night sky. If the one-eyed man lived there, if the palaceactually contained a garden (and it seemed large enough to contain anynumber of gardens), Johnnie wanted, if possible, to spend some timeunder that vast roof. So it was wise not to say anything that mightbring him into disfavor; especially when what he wanted most now wasshelter and a reading light.
He grasped the other's hand firmly and flashed up what was intended fora beguiling smile. "He don't ever feed me like _you_ do," he declared,with dazzling diplomacy.
The compliment was grandly passed over. "But he shore dresses y'tiptop!" was the next assertion.
At that, some inkling of the other's real meaning came to Johnnie. Hetried, but in vain, to catch that single eye. But even in the half lightit was busy taking in every detail of Big Tom's shirt and trousers."Y'--y' think so?" Johnnie ventured, ready to laugh.
"Think so!" cried the one-eyed man, spiritedly. "W'y, he must jes' aboutgo broke at it! Lookee! Twicet as much shirt as y' need, and at leastfive times as much pants!"
Certainly there was no denying the statement. However, there was anotherside to Barber's generosity that Johnnie longed to discuss. Yet oncemore he decided to invite no argument. "It'll be worse if I had t' weargirl's clothes," was what he returned, philosophically.
The street was dark just there. He was not able to mark the facialexpression which now accompanied a curious sound from the region of theAdam's apple. But when the light at the palace corner was reached, aquick glance showed a stern visage, with mouth set hard and that greeneye burning. And Johnnie's heart went out of him, for now he doubtedagain.
They paused at the foot of those steps. "Do y' go t' school?" asked theone-eyed man.
Johnnie shook his head. "He don't let me," he declared. But he was ascareful as ever to speak with no bitterness. Without question, in thistall stranger Big Tom had an ally.
"He don't let y'," drawled the other. "Don't let y' go t' school.Hm!--Say, y' know, I think I'd like that feller!"
He must get away! Suddenly throwing all the weight of himself and hisbooks into the effort, Johnnie tried to pull free of his companion,using both hands.
The one-eyed man held on. His grasp was like steel--yes, even like BigTom's grasp. "Aw, sonny!" he cried, as if suddenly repentent. Thenseizing Johnnie under both arms, he swung him to the top of those steps.
That same moment wide doors opened before them, and a vast, dim placewas disclosed to the boy's astonished view. "Why--! What--! Oh--!" hemarveled.
The one-eyed man shut the doors by retreating and giving them a pushwith his back. Then he thrust Johnnie toward a second flight of steps.These led down to a basement only partly lighted, full of voices,tramplings, and strange smells. Frightened, Johnnie made out theupraised heads of horses--lines of them! He could see a group of mentoo, each as big-hatted and shaggy-trousered as this one who still hadhim about his middle.
A great cry went up from that group--"Yip! yip! yip! yip!_yee-e-e-e-eow!_ One-Eye!"
"Oh, Mister," breathed Johnnie, "is it the circus?"