“Oh,” said Doc, softly, betraying no surprise—about the only thing he never betrayed. “Anything in it for you, Eddie?” “Yes. A good girl. The kind you read about. Isn’t that enough?” “Minna chucked you?” inquired Captain Quint. “She’ll get her decree in two or three months. Then I’ll have a home. And everything that you and I are keeps out of that home, Cap. See?” “Certainly,” said Quint. “Quite right, Eddie.” Doc Curfoot climbed in and took the wheel; Quint followed him. “Say,” he said in his pleasant, guarded voice, “watch out that Minna don’t double-cross you, Eddie.” “How?” “—Or shoot you up. She’s some schutzen-fest, you know, when she turns loose––” “Ah, I tell you she wants the divorce. Abe Grittlefeld’s crazy about her. He’ll get Abe Gordon to star her on Broadway; and that’s enough for her. Besides, she’ll marry Maxy Venem when she can afford to keep him.” “You never understood Minna Minti.” “Well, who ever understood any German?” demanded Brandes. “She’s one of those sour-blooded, silent Dutch women that make me ache.” Doc pushed the self-starter; there came a click, a low humming. Brandes’ face cleared and he held out his square-shaped hand: “You fellows,” he said, “have put me right with the old folks here. I’ll do the same for you some day. 75 Don’t talk about this little girl and me, that’s all.” 75 “All the same,” repeated Doc, “don’t take any chances with Minna. She’s on to you, and she’s got a rotten Dutch disposition.” “That’s right, Doc. And say, Harman,”—to Quint—“tell Ben he’s doing fine. Tell him to send me what’s mine, because I’ll want it very soon now. I’m going to take a month off and then I’m going to show Stein how a theatre can be run.” “Eddie,” said Quint, “it’s a good thing to think big, but it’s a damn poor thing to talk big. Cut out the talk and you’ll be a big man some day.” The graceful car moved forward into the moonlight;
Prev.
Back
Top