The City of Fire Part 30

So Billy slept through the first long journey he had taken since he came to live with Aunt Saxon, slept profoundly with an oblivion that almost amounted to coma. Sometimes the man, looking back, was tempted to stop and see if the boy was yet alive, but a light touch on the hot forehead showed him that life was not extinct, and they whirled on.

Three hours later Billy was awakened by a sharp shake of his sore shoulder and a stinging pain that shot through him like fire. Fire!

Fire! He was on fire! That was how he felt as he opened his eyes and glared at the stranger:

"Aw, lookout there, whatterya doin'?" he blazed, "Whadda ya think I am?

A football? Don't touch me. I'll get out. This the place? Thanks fer tha ride, I was all in. Say, d'ya know a guy by the name of Shafton?"

"Shafton?" asked the man astonished, "are you going to Shafton's?"

"Sure," said Billy, "anything wrong about that? Where does he hang out?"

The look of Billy, and more than all the smell of him made it quite apparent to the casual observer that he had been drinking, and the man eyed him compa.s.sionately. "Poor little fool! He's beginning young. What on earth does he want at Shaftons?"

"I'spose you've come down after the reward," grinned the man, "I could have saved you the trouble if you'd told me. The kidnapped son has got home. They are not in need of further information."

Billy gave him a superior leer with one eye closed:

"You may not know all there is to know about that," he said impudently, "where did you say he lived?"

The man shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"Suit yourself," he said, "I doubt if they'll see you. They have had nothing but a stream of vagrants for two days and they're about sick of it. They live on the next estate and the gateway is right around that corner."

"I ain't no vagrant," glared Billy, and limped away with old trusty under his left arm.

No one molested him as he walked in the arched and ivied gateway, for the gate keeper was off on a little private errand of his own at a place where prohibition had not yet penetrated. Billy felt too heavy and dizzy to mount his wheel, but he leaned on the saddle as he walked and tried to get things straight in his head. He oughtn't to have gone to sleep, that's what he oughtn't. But this job would soon be over and then he would hike it for home. Gee! Wouldn't home feel good! And Aunt Saxon would bathe his head with wych hazel and make cold things for him to drink! Aw, Gee!

The pedigreed dogs of which the place boasted a number came suddenly down upon him in a great flare of noise, but dogs were always his friends, why should he worry? A pity he couldn't stop to make friends with them just now. Some dogs! Here pup! Gee! What a dog to own! The dogs whined and fawned upon him. Pedigree or no pedigree, rags and whiskey and dirt notwithstanding, they knew a man when they saw one, and Billy hadn't batted an eyelid when they tried their worst tramp barks on him. They wagged their silky tails and tumbled over each other to get first place to him, and so escorted proudly he dropped old trusty by a clump of imported rhododendrons and limped up the marble steps to the wide vistas of circular piazzas that stretched to seemingly infinite distances, and wondered if he should ever find the front door.

An imposing butler appeared with a silver tray, and stood aghast.

"Shafton live here?" inquired Billy trying to look business like. "Like to see him er the missus a minute," he added as the frowning vision bowed. The butler politely but firmly told him that the master and mistress had other business and no desire to see him. The young gentleman had come home, and the reward had been withdrawn. If it was about the reward he had come he could go down to the village and find the detective. The house people didn't want to interview any more callers.

"Well, say," said Billy disgusted, "after I've come all this way too!

You go tell 'er I've brought her jewels! You go tell 'er I've _gottum here!_"

The butler opened the door a little wider: he suggested that seeing was believing.

"Not on yer tin type!" snapped Billy, "I show 'em to n.o.body an' I give 'em to n.o.body but the owner! Where's the young fella? He knows me. Tell 'im I brang his ma's string o' beads an' things."

Billy was weary. His head was spinning round. His temper was rising.

"Aw,--you make me tired! Get out of my way!" He lowered his head and made a football dive with his head in the region of the dignified butler's stomach, and before that dignitary had recovered his poise Billy with two collies joyously escorting him, stood blinking in wonder over the great beautiful living room, for all the world as pretty as the church at home, only stranger, with things around that he couldn't make out the use of.

"Where'ur they at? Where are the folks?" he shouted back to the butler who was coming after him with menace in his eye.

"What is the matter, Morris? What is all this noise about?" came a lady's voice in pettish tones from up above somewhere. "Didn't I tell you that I wouldn't see another one of those dreadful people to-day?"

Billy located her smooth old childish face at once and strode to the foot of the stairs peering up at the lady, white with pain from his contact with the butler, but alert now to the task before him:

"Say, Miz Shaf't'n, I got yer jools, would ya mind takin' 'em right now?

'Cause I'm all in an' I wantta get home."

His head was going around now like a merry-go-round, but he steadied himself by the bannister:

"Why, what do you mean?" asked the lady descending a step or two, a vision of marcelled white hair, violet and lace negligee, and well preserved features, "You've got them _there_? Let me see them."

"He's been drinking, Sarah, can't you smell it?" said a man's voice higher up, "Come away and let Morris deal with him. Really Sarah, we'll have to go away if this keeps up."

"Say, you guy up there, just shut yer trap a minute won't ya! Here, Miz Shaf't'n, are these here yours?"

Billy struggled with the neck of his blouse and brought forth the leather bag, gripped the knot fiercely in his teeth, ran his fingers in the bag as he held it in his mouth, his lamed arm hanging at his side, and drew forth the magnificent pearls.

"William! My pearls!" shrieked the lady.

The gentleman came down incredulous, and looked over her shoulder.

"I believe they are, Sarah," he said.

Billy leered feverishly up at him, and produced a sheaf of papers, seemingly burrowing somewhere in his internal regions to bring them forth.

"And here, d'these b'long?"

The master of the house gripped them.

"Sarah! The bonds! And the South American Shares!" They were too busy to notice Billy who stood swaying by the newel post, his duty done now, the dogs grouped about him.

"Say, c'n I get me a drink?" he asked of the butler, who hovered near uncertain what to be doing now that the tide was turned.

The lady looked up.

"Morris!"

He scarcely heard the lady's words but almost immediately a tall slim gla.s.s of frosty drink, that smelled of wild grapes, tasted of oranges, and cooled him down to the soul again, was put into his hand and he gulped it greedily.

"Where did you say you found these, young man?" The gentleman eyed him sternly, and Billy's old spirit flamed up:

"I didn't say," said Billy.

"But you know we've got to have all the evidence before we can give the reward--!"

"Aw, cut it out! I don't want no reward. Wouldn't take it if you give it to me! I just wantta get home. Say, you gotta telephone?"

"Why certainly." This was the most astonis.h.i.+ng burglar!

"Well, where is't? Lemme call long distance on it? I ain't got the tin now, but I'll pay ya when I git back home!"

"Why, the idea! Take him to the telephone Morris. Right there! This one--!"