THE JUDGE FIXES "FOXY GRANDPA"
"But tell you, sir, he is _not_ my son!" The judge was bending over the
desk 'phone as I looked in a half hour later. His voice rose in a
crescendo of rage: "Wha--what's _that_? Do I want to speak with him?
Certainly _not_, sir--and I _won't_!... Um, yes--John W. Billings--yes,
that's his name.... Stuff and nonsense, sir! He's up-stairs now in his
room.... Says what?"--the judge's eyes rolled frowningly upward as he
listened; then he licked his lips and bent again, speaking with
passionate incisiveness: "Why, dammit, man, I've just this minute been
talking to him--just left him, y'understand.... _Certainly_ your man's
an impostor--_you_ ought to know that!... Yes, this is Judge Billings,
himself.... Eh? Oh, that's all _right_, but now let me tell you
something"--he cleared his throat and gathered his voice in cold,
deliberate accents: "You let me be annoyed again from your precinct, and
I can promise _you_ that.... Um, well that's all right then.... 'Bye!"
He banged the receiver to the hook and faced about, muttering things to
himself.
"Well, upon my word! Of all the--excuse me, Lightnut!" He wiped his
forehead, his glance abstracted and scowling. "Somebody is putting this
fool up to this--somebody trying to annoy me!" He uttered a short laugh
that was more of a snort. "There's some fool lunatic down in New York
that they've arrested and he's got a bug that he's my son! This is the
second offense. Caused me to lose two hours from my office yesterday in
the city and upset me for the whole day! And me so busy! busy!"--his
hands lifted toward the papers on the table--"so busy I can
hardly"--another snort, and he relighted his cigar, puffing
savagely--"looks like there's just one fool thing after another
interrupting me or absorbing my time!"
"Jolly shame, you know!" I responded, dropping sympathetically into a
chair. I pushed the papers to one side so I could rest my elbow on the
table edge; besides, I saw they were fretting him--could tell by his
glances, you know.
For another thing, I had got hold of a devilish shrewd idea I wanted to
break to him--about this chap who was pretending to be his son. I
remembered that the old rascal who had invaded my rooms had tried to
make me believe that _I_ was his bosom friend.
"Oh, I say, you know," I began, declining a cigar and selecting a
cigarette from my case, "I've an idea!"
And I faced him impressively.
"You've _what_?"--he straightened forward, with a kind of twisted
smile--interested, you know--"whatever makes you think _that_, my boy?"
I waited, sending a long, thin smoke funnel upward. Kept him expectant,
you see, and gave me time to get hold of the corners of the jolly thing
myself. Catch the point? So devilish important when you have to lift an
idea, don't you know.
"Rather fancy your chap's the same one I know of," I drawled, "an oldish
duffer--white mutton-chops--beefy sort of face--sunburn line and
baldish--all that sort of thing!"
"Well, by-y-y George!"--he slapped his hand down--"I should say that
_was_ a real idea! And you say you know this crazy fool?"
"Crazy? He's not crazy!" I exclaimed indignantly, thinking of her
pajamas. "And he's no more _fool_ than I am!"
He fell back with a grunt. "Oh, well, I _know_--but--"
He coughed. By Jove, he seemed disappointed, somehow!
I proceeded calmly: "Real truth is, the beggar's a notorious criminal,
known to the police as Foxy Grandpa--pretends all sorts of things about
people, don't you know."
"My dear Lightnut,"--he was staring at me, mouth distended--"why--how
the devil do _you_ know this?"
I inhaled deliberately. "Awfully simple, don't you know," I responded
quietly; and I let him wait till I had blown six rings. "Fact is, _I'm_
the one sent him to jail!"
"You!"--his laugh was frankly amused, incredulous.
"Oh, yes!"--carelessly--"found the fellow thieving in my rooms the other
night and called in police--oh, they recognized him in a minute!"
He looked floored. "Well, what do you think of that?" he murmured
slowly. Then his face flushed and he sat erect. "And so _that's_ all the
crazier the ruffian is--_that's_ the kind of smart Alex that's been
trying to get gay with me--with _me_!" He started up, snorting like a
war-horse--"Huh! Well, _two_ can play at that game, and"--his eyes
twinkled wrathfully--"I'll show him who's got the best hand! I'll
just--"
The rest trailed off in a mutter. He had dropped beside the telephone
again, his cigar crushed firmly in the corner of his mouth, his gray
mustache bristling aggressively. I tried to trace the family resemblance
to Frances, but clashed if I could see a single point. And while I was
thinking of this, he got his number.
"Yes, yes," I heard, "I _do_ want to speak to him personally--this is
Judge Billings!"--a moment, and then: "Morning, Commissioner--this is
Billings.... Fine, thank you!... Oh, no! No bad effects at all--takes
more than that to throw a seasoned old diner like my--.... What say?"--a
cackling chuckle--"yes, I knew the dinner would loosen _him_ up! Had his
promise before we left the table; Soakem heard him--so did Benedict....
Yes--_oh_, yes; he's got it--had it with me, you know, _in case_!...
No-o-o, of course not; not a single line or scrap!"--a lower drop of
tone--"just in a plain, blank envelope--best way always, you know....
Yes, that gives us a safe margin in the Senate now, not even counting
upon what they do in committee--and Soakem'll take care of that end....
Yes, he went back to Albany this morning--he says the bill's safely
deader'n Hector _now_.... Er, by the way, Commissioner,"--the judge
cleared his throat and his voice sobered: "Little favor I want to
ask--h'm! I'm being greatly annoyed by some low vagabond confined at one
of the stations.... _Yes_, I really mean it!--Captain Clutchem's
precinct, you know--and this ruffian insists to them that he's my
son.... No, _indeed_, I'm not joking at all.... All right, you may
laugh, but I fail to appreciate the funny side, myself--especially now,
you know, when I'm up to my neck in this merger case.... How's that?
What do I want _done_? Oh, I wouldn't venture to say as to _that_! I
leave that to _you_!... _I_ know.... Yes, I understand all that, but ...
wait--wait just a minute! Now you listen--"
The judge concentrated more intensely over the instrument.
"You know what you asked me to do when I saw you last night--and I
refused"--another voice drop--"with the mayor, you know? Well--now
listen--you make assurance that this scoundrel will not bother me for
thirty days and--well, I give you my word that I'll do all I can to
bring things the way you want.... Good!... What'll you do with him? Why,
what in Sam Hill do _I_ care what you do with him?... Oh, but _say_,
Commissioner--yes, I do care, too!"--a laugh here like a jolly fiend--"I
_shouldn't_ like for him to be put away off in some nice, damp, dark
cell to cool off--he! he! he!--y'understand?"
He got so mixed up in his chuckling and coughing that he couldn't get
out another word for a moment. Then--
"Oh, no! _Cer_-tainly not; nor one too hot and airless, as you say--he!
he! he! And don't put him--don't put him--" the judge was gasping for
air now--"don't put him on bread and water, or anything of that kind,
nor in a cell with rude, rough men who would tame his playful
spirit--he! he! he!--oh, _don't_ do that!... What say? I didn't quite
catch--" And then, dash it, it seemed he _did_ catch it, for he began
waving his arm and pounding the desk. "Oh--oh, no, that would be _too_
bad--really!... Eh? Oh, well, you know best--it's up to you now!...
'Bye, and many thanks, Commissioner! Eh? All right, to-morrow then at
one at the Lawyers' Club--you can go over again the points of what you
want with the mayor. 'Bye!"
And with good humor perfectly restored, he faced me, wabbling like a
jolly jellyfish.
"'S greatest joke ever heard of in my life!" he chortled.
"Oh, I say, how did you find Jack?" I asked, for that was the thing I
had begun to think of.
His face collapsed so dashed sudden, I was afraid it would break. And
from being a peppery red, he changed to a devilish sickly yellow.
"Awful!" he said jerkily. "Something awful!" And he groaned like a jolly
horse in pain. "Went up there, you know, but--" his hands lifted and
dropped; he shook his head--"didn't seem to know me at all--was sitting
there in his pajamas examining with a magnifying glass some leaves he
had pulled at the window. Seems obsessed with some crazy patter of talk
I couldn't understand--poor fellow!" The judge sighed. "Only thing he
seemed to want me to do for him was to promise to wear his pajamas
to-night--pajamas seem to be the focus of his malady this time."
I swallowed pretty hard and looked down.
"I promised," continued the judge gloomily. "And I'll do it--oh, yes,
anything to humor him! He's to put them outside his door to-night--it's
his own whim, you know." He went on moodily: "He won't allow any
luncheon sent up; says if not too much trouble, would be grateful for
two and one-half ounces of unleavened bread and clabber--what the
devil's _clabber_?"
I had never heard of it--knew, of course, no one had!
"Well," he said with a deep breath, "we'll just have to do the best we
can. Of course, under the circumstances, it's best for him to keep his
apartment--Oh, say, would you like to go up?"
"Oh--er--think not!" I stammered. "Don't believe I--"
"You're right! You're right!" He pursed his lips: "Too pitiful a
sight--only sadden you!" He began gathering up the papers behind my arm,
though I murmured that they were not in my way at all. The cathedral
chimes in the hall had played the half hour. The judge strolled over to
the French windows that opened upon the loggia.
"I say, Lightnut, have you ever noticed the view from out here?" he
asked briskly. "Fine, you know! Nice to sit here and watch the
boats--have you your cigarettes? _Oh_, yes! Try _this_ chair! Now, if
you'll excuse me I'll be with you in--"
"Luncheon is served!" intoned a human machine.
"Ah-h!" The judge's tone evinced satisfaction. "My dear Lightnut," his
hand upon my arm, "do you know I look upon you as so nearly one of
us--?"
"Thank you, judge!" I said feelingly. By Jove, it was devilish comfy to
have her father so jolly friendly about it!
"That I'm just going to ask you to excuse me from lunching with
you--know you'll understand, my boy!--so infernally busy, you see!"
I _didn't_ see, though he had been _saying_ this all morning. But as he
seemed to think he was busy, I wasn't going to make any dashed break
contradicting him, you know. So I pretended I _did_ see.
"Thank you--thank you, my boy!" He patted me on the back. "And as you'll
have an opportunity of seeing a little more of that charming girl, Miss
Kirkland--" Charming girl, indeed! I wondered what he would think, if he
knew of her designs on poor Jack! "I want you to go in for her a
bit--cultivate her a little; you may change your opinion--eh?" He
laughed softly and paused in our progress through the library to dig me
sharply in the side. "Go ahead--_flirt_ with her, my boy! She will like
it--all girls do--and it will do you good; do both of you good!" The old
boy beamed at me over his glasses as he vented a horrible chuckle;
didn't seem to notice how painfully shocked I was.
A flirtation, indeed! And with the frump, of all others! Of course he
was just having his little joke, and didn't seem to realize what
devilish poor taste he exhibited as the father of my darling.
"Thank you," I said rather coldly, "but I don't think that--er--sort of
thing would show much consideration for Frances and--"
"Rubbish!" And, by Jove, how he laughed! "Do you think Francis would
show any consideration for _you_?"--he snapped his fingers. "I think
you're a bit too quixotic, young man!"
I didn't know--don't know now; never was up on any of those legal
terms. _He_ knew what he meant!
"Pshaw, now!" he went on, "if _that's_ what's restraining you, you must
drop it! I want you to have a pleasant time while you are here with Miss
Kirkland--get along with you!"--then he pulled me back again--"You
needn't be thinking about the slightest obligation so far as Francis is
concerned. Why should you when the affair is all one-sided?"
"One--one-sided?" I repeated falteringly.
"Why, yes; the girl doesn't care for anybody in the whole word except
her old father--and he idolizes her!"
Oh, _did_ he!
"So you go on in there and loosen up--have a good time--and make her
have one; and keep it up this afternoon. I'm so anxious for you to find
something to interest and _occupy_ you--" His glance dropped an instant
to the papers and law books as though wishing he had something better
with which to occupy himself. "Besides," he added carelessly, "Francis
won't be here to see what you do--gone off with Scoggins up somewhere in
the hills--big dog-fight up there and Francis took four curs, Scoggins
two--they won't be back till night--so go ahead!"
But I had caught the back of a chair.
"Dog-fight?" I said faintly. "Frances up in the hills--and--and with
Scoggins?" And she had only left me a half-hour ago!
"Why, _certainly_!" he said wearily, almost testily. "What of it? I tell
you you've got to get your ideas all readjusted about Francis. What's
the matter with the dog-fight?"
"So--so surprised," I faltered; "so unexpected, you know!"
"Poof!"--and he pushed me out through the doorway--"I never face
anything unexpected in that quarter!"
But I think he would have, if he had followed me across into the
dining-room and had faced, as I did--
Frances!
"_So_ glad you didn't go to the dog-fight!" I said presently, beaming
across at her delightedly.
Her sweet lips glowed at me as her dainty fingers poised the tiny
trident before her lips. Jove, how I envied that jolly oyster! Then she
smiled witchingly, teasingly.
"It wasn't because I didn't have an invitation," she responded archly.
_I_ knew! That beast, Scoggins!
"Umph;" grunted the frump, seated on the curve between us. "I verily
believe Francis would go to anything!"
I scowled--couldn't help it, dash it! And Frances saw, and ducked her
head, biting her lip and blushing. I could have choked the frump for so
embarrassing her!
Yet the woman _did_ try to be pleasant to me.
"Did you ever find a pearl in an oyster, Mr. Lightnut?" she asked.
"By Jove, no!" I said, staring at her for the fool question. For _who_
could ever lose a pearl in a jolly oyster, don't you know? And yet, the
next instant:
"_I_ have!" said my darling, glancing up at me the oddest way.
"Have you, Frances?"--the frump faced her interestedly. "You should
examine with a microscope the interstratifications of calcareous matter
and animal membrane."
My beauty looked down at her plate.
"I _am_ examining it," she said gravely, "and microscopically. Probably
shall this afternoon."
But she _didn't_! No, by Jove, we were together almost all
the afternoon, though we never could get away from the frump--dash
it, she just took charge of us. And it was the same again in the
evening. By Jove, it was disgusting--really, that's the only word to
use--the way that woman assumed toward everybody the air of
expect-to-be-mistress-here-some-day-and-might-as-well-begin-now!
Once she did break away from us for fifteen minutes while she went up to
see how Jack was. She came back much relieved.
"He was _so_ glad to see me," she said, "and he kissed me twice. We had
such an interesting discussion about the _amoeba_."
"The _what_?" asked Frances.
"The _amoeba_--tiny animalcules, don't you know, that have the power of
changing their form and appearance. Jacky thinks that perhaps man, too,
in the process of time and evolution might scientifically acquire
this--"
"How silly!" laughed my darling. And I thought so too. Of course if a
man looked like himself once, he would _always_ look like himself. Any
fool knew that!
Later, the judge came to my room, accompanied by Wilkes with some
Heidelberg punch, _frappe_.
"Couldn't leave you out of this," he said genially; "besides, wanted to
toast your first night under the roof of Wolhurst!
"Hope they're making you comfortable," he went on. "Infernal shame,
Lightnut, that I've had to neglect you so; so absurdly busy, you
know--_you_ understand?"
I pretended to, for I knew he wanted me to _think_ that, but I had heard
the butler tell the frump that the judge was _reading_.
"Don't expect to retire at all," he continued; "and then there's my
promise to my poor boy--I _must_ keep that somehow; never failed on a
promise in my life--I mean, you know, about wearing his new pajamas." He
shook his head sadly.
"T' be sure!"--and I swallowed hard--Jove, but the very word, "pajamas,"
gave me cold marrows!
"And, my boy, I haven't forgotten my promise to _you_, either," he
continued, smiling kindly and replenishing my glass to the brim. "I'm
still going to have a word with Francis to-night--that is, if they ever
get back from that infernal dog-fight--I want to pave the way for you,
you know."
"Thanks awfully!" I murmured nervously.
Somehow, I felt mean--always hate to feel mean, dash it--felt almost
like a jolly cad, in fact. _Couldn't_ tell him how far Frances and I had
progressed already; he might take it out on her, you know. And _then_,
to find out that he didn't know she hadn't gone to the dog-fight after
all!
"Well," he sighed, "I will manage it all somehow, even about the
pajamas. Perhaps, when the house is quiet, I may--_here_, have
another--oh, yes, you must!--won't hurt you; only a pint or so of rum in
the whole mixture. Fine, isn't it? Yes, I think Wilkes is certainly an
artist when it comes to a nightcap. Now, let me fill yours again--_oh_,
yes!"--and he did it--"Won't hurt a baby--make you sleep tight, you
know!"
And, by Jove, I had to go it!
"Well--" he shifted as if to go, and sent me a smile over his glass's
rim, "pleasant dreams!"
And then the door closed behind our "good nights."
Jenkins was studying me somberly.
"Yes, sir," he said presently, when I had made comment about the bully
punch. And that was about all I could get out of him, until he was ready
to push out the light.
Then he addressed me gloomily:
"Good night, sir," he said with a sickly, feeble smile, "I hope you'll
sleep well; and--" he coughed faintly--"and--er--wake up--h'm--all
right!"
"Frisky as a--" I bunched my head sleepily into the pillow--"as a
jolly--" But the idea wouldn't come!
"Night!" I murmured; and let it go at that!