But I guess you didn't think I sent for ye
jest to tell ye you was a fool in Chinatown."
I admitted that I should have expected to wait till morning for such a
piece of information.
"Well," said Mother Borton, "that ain't it. Something's up."
"And what might it be?" I inquired. "The moon?"
Mother Borton did not take this flippancy kindly. Her face grew darker
and more evil as it was framed in the dancing shadows behind her.
"You can git a knife in ye as easy as winking if I'll jest keep my
mouth shut," she cried spitefully.
"Yes," said I repentantly, putting my hand upon her arm. "But you are
my very good friend, and will tell me what I ought to know."
The creature's face lighted at my tone and action, and her eyes melted
with a new feeling.
"That I will," she said; "that I will, as if you were my own boy."
She seized my hand and held it as she spoke, and looked intently,
almost lovingly, on my face. Elsewhere I could have shivered at the
thought of her touch. Here, with the bent figure amid the gloomy
shadows of the den in which we sat, with the atmosphere of danger heavy
about us, I was moved by a glow of kindly feeling.
"I was a-listening to 'em," she continued in a low, earnest tone,
glancing around fearfully as if she had the thought that some one else
might be listening in turn. "I was a-listening, an' I heerd what they
says."
"Who said?" I inquired.
"The ones you knows on," she returned mysteriously.
"What ones?" I persisted, though I supposed she meant to indicate some
of my energetic enemies.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215