“My friends are much obliged for the extra five--but they can use it for
something else besides eats. Come on, gentlemen! You will be my guests
at dinner.”
I could see by Dawlin’s face that he took that last as a straight
tip from me that I had designs on the countrymen--and that he would
understand why I was quitting my job for a time. He gave me a most
benignant smile when I left.
Professor Jewelle smirked and bowed when we passed him.
Big Mike, the ogre of the place, stepped politely to one side and
twisted his ugly mug into a one-sided grin of apology.
So we went out in state.
There was a new feeling in me. It was a longing to be with those boys
from home. Up to then I had been ashamed to meet anybody from Levant.
And out of that shame had come a sort of dread to hear any news from my
old town. Now I was hungry for news.
To be sure, just at that moment I was in a fool’s paradise of spurious
importance. It was comforting, however, to be set on a pedestal by those
Sortwell boys, and to know that at least two persons from Levant had
stopped thinking of me as a runaway scalawag.
Along with my new feelings had come a sort of vague hope.
I walked out of Dawlin’s place with a hazy notion that I would never go
back. Dawlin was evened up with me as to finances--I had my last week’s
rake-off in my pocket.
And I may say right here that I never did go back--not to stand up and
coax suckers! When I did go back I played Mr. Jeff Dawlin for one!