"Running with them in the race—for the race——" his hurtling promenade took him to the window and he paused for an instant. "Come here, Mildred. Look at her!" [Pg 11] Mildred Lorimer came to join him. On the shabby, rusty lawn of the King place, next door, all the rustier for its nearness to their own emerald turf, sat Honor Carmody and Jimsy King, jointly and severally lacing up a football. "Yes, look at her!" said her mother with feeling. "Leave her alone, Mildred. Leave her alive!" The two children were utterly absorbed. The boy[Pg 12] was half a head taller than the girl, heavier, sturdier, of a startling beauty. There was a stubborn, much reviled wave in his bronze hair and his eyes were a dark hazel flecked with black. His skin was bronze, too, bronzed by many Catalina summer and winter swims at Ocean Park. It made his teeth seem very white and flashing. [Pg 12] The window was open to the soft Southern California air, and the voices came across to the watchers. "Hold it!" "I am holding it!" A handsome man of forty came up the tree-shaded street, not quite steadily, and turned into the King's walk. His hat was pulled low over his eyes and the collar of his coat was turned up in spite of the mildness of the day. He nodded to the boy and girl as he went past them and on into the house. "Again!" said Mrs. Lorimer, tragically. "That's the second time this week!" "Rough on the kid," said her husband. "See him now." Jimsy King had turned his head and was following his father's slow progress up the steps and across the porch and into the house. "Be in in a minute, Dad!" he called after him. "Loyal little beggar. I saw him steering him up[Pg 13] Broadway one morning, just at school time. Pluck." [Pg 13] Honor had looked after James King, the elder, too, and then at his son, and then at the football in her hands again. "Hurry up," she commanded. "Pull it tighter! Tighter! Do you call that pulling?" Inexorably she got his attention back to the subject in hand. "That makes it all the
Prev.
Back
Top