Jimmie Moore of Bucktown Part 7

"Sinners," said Dave.

"Are yer a sinner, Dave?"

"Yes, I am a bad one."

"Worser dan dis guy? Read der rest of 'er."

"Of whom I am chief," David read.

"All right," said Jimmie, "if He kin save der chief of sinners, can't He save Dave Beach?"

Before he could answer, Jewey, Oily Ike and Fred Hood came in.

"Send the kid home," said Jewey.

"He's at home now," said Dave; "he sleeps here. You can do all the business you have with me in a minute er two. I'm tired of this crooked business; and for my part, I'm going to cut it out. Whatever your haul is to-night you can keep it or let Ike there handle it; I'm done.

"No, don't get leery; I won't turn you. But I don't want no more of it here."

"You'll be havin' Sunday school here every day if that kid hangs around much longer," said Jewey.

"Well, he'll be here just as long as he wants to," said Dave.

"It's two o'clock, Jimmie; you had better turn in and I'll call you at three-thirty. Good-night."

Jimmie lay down upon a horse blanket without taking off his shoes or clothes and was soon fast asleep. His day had been a long one and he was very tired, but happy.

After Dave's callers had gone, he stood looking down into Jimmie's tired face. "Poor little Jimmie," he said, "if I knew your paper route, I'd carry it myself rather than wake you up this morning.

There's no use talking, that kid don't get enough to eat. I saw him give his little sister his supper money last night, and I know he went to sleep hungry; I never saw his beat. He preaches to every one in his sweet child way and he makes me feel as though I was the biggest devil on earth. By thunder, it breaks me all up." Dave was talking to himself, or thinking out loud.

He was very much moved by Jimmie's life and words; he pulled his old office chair beside Jimmie's pallet and began to weep.

Big, strong Dave had broken down and was once more a boy. He was ashamed of his tears and tried to brace up and stop them; but when he would look at Jimmie's little pinched face on the old horse blanket, the tears would start afresh and creep through his dirty fingers and fall to the floor in spite of all he could do. Dave Beach was a strong, big fellow; he had drunk and fought his way through the world and for many years had suppressed his emotional nature. Tears to him were a sign of weakness and he would rather have lost his barn and horses by fire than that any one should see him cry. He jumped to his feet and started to pace up and down the office. "D---- fool that I am! I'm bawling worse than a yearling heifer. It's time to call Jimmie and he must not see me this way." He went to the hydrant out in the barn and washed and pulled himself together as best he could, and then went back to call Jimmie.

"It's time to get up, Jimmie," he said as he kicked the bottom of the boy's foot. Jimmie rose and rubbed his eyes, but was so tired and sleepy he fell back again upon the blankets.

"Come, my boy, I want you to go to the lunch counter with me and have a cup of coffee." He reached down and picked the boy up bodily and held him in his great, strong arms a moment, but had to drop him for safety; he would be weeping again if he did not get busy at something else.

"Go out and wash your face, Jim, and you'll feel better."

The cold water did its work.

"Guess I's hard to wake up, wasn't I, Dave?" said Jimmie, as he wiped his face on the lining of his cap--a trick of the newsboys.

"You're all right, Jimmie; but you need more sleep. After you get your papers carried, come back and go up into the haymow and sleep all morning."

"I can't do 'er, Dave. I got ter see Bill and call on Floe and take me first lesson from Mrs. Price and go ter Morton's house, all dis mornin'."

"Well, come, we'll go over and get something to eat," said Dave.

"I don't feel very hungry," said Jimmie, "and I guess I won't go over jus' now. I'll git somfin later."

Dave knew what the trouble was and took Jimmie by the hand and started for the all-night lunch counter.

"You're going to eat with me this time, Jimmie; I have enough money for both of us. No, you'll never pay me a cent of it back.

Just a little treat, you know."

Jimmie never wanted something for nothing, but he grew so hungry as he thought of the good things at the counter that he could not say No. Dave ordered their meal, and when it came upon the table Jimmie's big gray eyes stuck out. "Is dis all fer us, Dave? Der meat, an' eggs, an' taters, too, an' coffee 'sides!

Gee! it must of cost a quarter, didn't it, Dave?" As he grabbed his knife and fork to start his meal, he looked up at Dave with such love in his eyes that Dave lost his appet.i.te for food and wanted to finish the "bawl" he had started in the barn.

"Go on and eat, Jimmie. You'll be late for your papers," he said.

"I mus' pray 'fore I eat, Dave," he said as he jammed his cap into his coat pocket. "Now, Jesus, I'm glad yer give us all this here good stuff ter eat. It's more'n we got comin'; but yer always givin' us more'n we could ast er tink. Dave's a good man fer payin' fer it, and he's feedin' you when he's feedin'

me, 'cause I'm your'n. Make Dave gooder and gooder fer Jesus'

sake. Amen."

Dave jumped to his feet and started for the door. "You eat, Jimmie; I'll be back in a minute." He was overcome and the "bawl"

had got the best of him. He stood outside the door in the dark and cried as if his heart would break.

"D---- fool that I am! I wish some one would come along and call me names so I could lick him within an inch of his life.

I'd feel better anyhow."

After several unsuccessful attempts to control himself, he went to the door and told Jimmie to eat both meals, as he had to go.

"I'll pay you, Mose, when I come over." Before Jimmie could answer he was gone.

He went to f.a.gin's, got several drinks, tried his best to pick a fight with Mike, then went home and went to bed.

Jimmie ate all there was in sight, and with a full stomach became very cheerful and talked to Mose, the colored waiter.

"Gee, I guess me belly t'ought me t'roat was cut. I bet if it could talk it would ast me what I was doin' up dere."

CHAPTER VIII

_Bill's Pension_

After Mr. and Mrs. Morton had listened to Jimmie's story of Mrs. Cook's prayer, Floe's "gittin' hurted" and Dave's talk, he went into detail as he described the wonderful breakfast he had eaten. "Gee, I was scart I'd bust when I straightened up. I don't feel like I wanted nothin' for a week."

"Tell me more about Floe," said Mrs. Morton, much interested.

"Do you think she would come to live with us while she is sick?

I would love to care for her and be her friend if she would let me."

"Do yer mean she can board here?" asked Jimmie in surprise.

"No, I want her to come and live with us; I want her for my friend and companion. She can be our Floe and make this her home."