"Ah! they tame them over there just like they do here, I see," said
Mullen, turning away.
I would like to fire that fellow when I get out of this--but, of
course, in common decency I must not.
Meanwhile I suppose you are wondering what all this has to do with our
case. Have patience with me. I am so absolutely alone in my new life,
I must have somebody to air my thoughts to. The evenings are the
hardest to put in. The club calls me with a siren voice. Eddie's wife
is away, too, and I think of the boy dining alone. I wish we had taken
him into our confidence, but I suppose it was wiser not to.
I have changed my boarding-place. Couldn't stand the fare at Mrs.
McMahon's. I am now at a French place No. -- West 29th street. It is
humble enough to suit my altered station in life, but the cooking being
French is not impossible. I have mitigated my lot by buying a jug of
excellent Bordeaux at Bardin's, which I have with my dinner without
exciting suspicion. I am aiming to get the name of a "character" which
will enable me to do pretty much as I please.
The only break I have made so far was upon the avenue yesterday. I was
on my way home from work and my wits were wool-gathering. I was
dreaming, I suppose, of where I would like to go for dinner. Along
came Warner Macklin, an elegant old dandy and a club acquaintance of
mine. Without thinking, I nodded to him as I would ordinarily. You
should have seen his affronted stare. The old snob! Anyhow it
testifies to the efficacy of my disguise.
If you would like to look me over I will be walking up and down in
front of the dairy lunch on Thirty-fourth street East of Sixth avenue
at Twelve-thirty to-morrow, Thursday. J.M.