"You are always hitting at the law," he said. "Why do you stand by it
now?"
"For the same reason as yourself."
"What is that?"
"She has your picture in her room, she has my lucky dollar in her
pocket."
Halby's face flushed, and then he turned and looked steadily into
Pierre's eyes.
"We'd better settle this thing at once. If you're going to Fort O'Battle
because you've set your fancy there, you'd better go back now. That's
straight. You and I can't sail in the same boat. I'll go alone, so give
me the pistol."
Pierre laughed softly, and waved the hand back. "T'sh! What a high-
cock-a-lorum! You want to do it all yourself--to fill the eye of the
girl alone, and be tucked away to By-by for your pains--mais, quelle
folie! See: you go for law and love; I go for fun and Jimmy Throng.
The girl? Pshaw! she would come out right in the end, without you or
me. But the old man with half a lung--that's different. He must have
sweet bread in his belly when he dies, and the girl must make it for him.
She shall brush her hair with the ivory brush by Sunday morning."
Halby turned sharply.
"You've been spying," he said. "You've been in her room--you--"
Pierre put out his hand and stopped the word on Halby's lips.
"Slow, slow," he said; "we are both--police to-day. Voila! we must not
fight. There is Throng and the girl to think of.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56