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The Coming of Bill Part 14

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"You know my nephew, Mr. Dingle?"

"Sure. I box with him every morning."

"I never expected to hear that my nephew Bailey did anything so sensible as to take regular exercise. He does not look as if he did."

"He certainly is a kind o' half-portion, ma'am. But say, if he's your nephew, Miss Ruth's your niece."

"Perfectly correct."

"Then you know all about this business?"

"Which business, Mr. Dingle?"

"Why, Kirk and Miss Ruth."

Mrs. Porter raised her eyebrows.

"Really, Mr. Dingle! Has Mr. Winfield made you his confidant?"

"How's that?"

"Has Mr. Winfield told you about my niece and himself?"

"h.e.l.l, no! You don't find a real person like Kirk shooting his head about that kind of thing. I had it from Bailey."

"From Bailey?"

"Surest thing you know. He blew in here and shouted it all out at the top of his voice."

"Indeed! I was wondering if he had arrived yet. He left my apartment saying he was going to thrash Mr. Winfield. I came here to save him from getting hurt. Was there any trouble?"

"Not so's you could notice it. I guess when he'd taken a slant at Kirk he thought he wouldn't bother to swat him. Say, ma'am--"

"Well?"

"Whose corner are you in for this sc.r.a.p?"

"I don't understand you."

"Well, are you rooting for Kirk, or are you holding the towel for old man Bannister?"

"You mean, do I wish Mr. Winfield to marry my niece?"

"You're hep."

"Most certainly I do. It was I who brought them together."

"Bully for you! Well, say, I just been shooting the dope into Kirk upstairs. I been--you didn't happen to read the report of a sc.r.a.p I once had with a gazook called Kid Mitch.e.l.l, did you, ma'am?"

"I seldom, I may say never, read the sporting section of the daily papers."

Steve looked at her in honest wonder.

"For the love of Pete! What else do you find to read in 'em?" he said.

"Well, I was telling Kirk about it. The Kid came at me to soak me, but I soaked him first and put him out. It's the only thing to do, ma'am, when you're up against it. Get in the first wallop before the other guy can get himself set for his punch. 'Kirk,' I says, 'don't you wait for old man Bannister to tell you you can't marry Miss Ruth. Marry her before he can say it.' I wish you'd tell him the same thing, ma'am. You know the old man as well as I do--better, I guess--and you know that Kirk ain't got a chance in a million with him if he don't rush him.

Ain't that right?"

"Mr. Dingle," said Mrs. Porter, "I should like to shake you by the hand. It is amazing to me to find such sound sense in a man. You have expressed my view exactly. If I have any influence with Mr. Winfield, he shall marry my niece to-day. You are a man of really exceptional intelligence, Mr. Dingle."

"Aw, check it with your hat, ma'am!" murmured Steve modestly. "Nix on the bouquets! I'm only a roughneck. But I fall for Miss Ruth, and there ain't many like Kirk, so I'd like to see them happy. It would sure get my goat the worst way to have the old man gum the game for them."

"I cannot understand a word you say," said Mrs. Porter, "but I fancy we mean the same thing. Here comes Mr. Winfield at last. I will speak to him at once."

"Spiel away, ma'am," said Steve. "The floor's yours."

Kirk entered the studio.

Chapter VI

Breaking the News

Old John Bannister returned that night. Learning from Bailey's trembling lips the tremendous events that had been taking place in his absence, he was first irritated, then coldly amused. His coolness dampened, while it comforted, Bailey.

A bearer of sensational tidings likes to spread a certain amount of dismay and terror; but, on the other hand, it was a relief to him to find that his father appeared to consider trivial a crisis which, to Bailey, had seemed a disaster without parallel in the annals of American social life.

"She said she was going to _marry_ him!"

Old Bannister opened the nut-cracker mouth that always had the appearance of crus.h.i.+ng something. His pale eyes glowed for an instant.

"Did she?" he said.

"She seemed very--ah--determined."

"_Did_ she!"

Silence falling like a cloud at this point, Bailey rightly conjectured that the audience was at an end and left the room. His father bit the end off a cigar and began to smoke.

Smoking, he reviewed the situation, and his fighting spirit rose to grapple with it. He was not sorry that this had happened. His was a patriarchal mind, and he welcomed opportunities of exercising his authority over his children. It had always been his policy to rule them masterfully, and he had often resented the fact that his daughter, by the nature of things, was to a great extent outside his immediate rule.

During office hours business took him away from her. The sun never set on his empire over Bailey, but it needed a definite crisis like the present one to enable him to jerk at the reins which guided Ruth, and he was glad of the chance to make his power felt.

The fact that this affair brought him into immediate contact with Mrs.

Porter added to his enjoyment. Of all the people, men or women, with whom his business or social life had brought him into conflict, she alone had fought him squarely and retired with the honours of war. When his patriarchal mind had led him to bully his late wife, it was Mrs.

Porter who had fought her cause. It was Mrs. Porter who openly expressed her contempt for his money and certain methods of making it.

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