“Good old Carol?” said the boy with surprise. “Yes. How much more time have you before you must go back to the store?” Hugh looked at his wrist watch. Its dilapidated leather bracelet matched the carelessness of its owner’s general appearance. “Half an hour.” “Then let us eat quickly and get to some quiet spot.” They found it in a hotel lobby on the way to[5] Hugh’s place of business, and in transit John Ogden took further mental note of his companion’s shabbiness. Not only were his clothes in need of brushing, but he had not shaved to-day; his shoes were dusty and by industry the boy finished several cigarettes before, in the hotel lobby, they found a couple of neighboring chairs, and he lighted another. [5] “Hard luck to tote you around this way, Mr. Ogden, but all I’ve got is a hall bedroom in a hash house.” “You talk a lot about luck, don’t you?” remarked the older man. “You don’t look as if you had ever gone after it very hard.” “Oh, yes,” responded Hugh; “I’ve batted around considerable after jobs.” “You don’t keep them very long, eh?” “No, and the devil can take them for all me. I’ve never had anything worth keeping since I got back from France. I care for nobody and nobody cares for me. That’s about the size of it, and most of the other fellows are the same way. My friends are all Bolshevists.” “Oh, come now,” said the older man, regarding the frank young ne’er-do-well with some disgust, “that isn’t worthy of your father’s son.” “Perhaps not; but what do you care?” turning[6] upon his well-dressed, well-groomed companion; nettled by the shade of contempt in his tone. “My father’s dead and that’s the end of him.” [6] “I was going to tell you why I care,” said Ogden, meeting the inimical look in the exceedingly handsome blue eyes bent upon him. He paused a minute, then added, “I am glad I stopped over and hunted you up. You remind me of her.” “Oh, yes,” said Hugh listlessly, “Carol. You said something about Carol.” “I did,” returned the other quietly. “Twelve years ago to-day I asked
Prev.
Back
Top