Wednesday morning was a particularly noisy morning in the rear dining
room of Landsmann's. Jimmy Allen was the hero. On the night before, he
had knocked out his opponent toward the close of the first round. Some
of his admirers had met at Landsmann's to discuss and celebrate the
event, and one who had been present was supplying the others with the
details.
"An' toward the end o' the round," he was describing, "Jimmy ducked
under the poor 'Kid's' flabby guard an' caught 'im an awful soak in the
guts, an' as 'the Kid' doubled up, Jimmy swung the finisher--it was a
terror!--right on the point o' the jaw. 'The Kid' hit the mat deader
than a door nail. An' they carried 'im away, a smashed hope inside o'
three minutes."
The listeners clamored for more, and one of them queried: "But I thought
'the Kid' was such a clever sidestepper?"
"He is, but he couldn't sidestep Jimmy. Jimmy's a terror in the ring.
He's a good-natured feller outside, but the sight of another feller in
front of 'im kind o' riles 'is blood. He can't rest till he's battered
the guy away, an' let 'im see a little blood, like 'the Kid's' mouth
bleedin', an' it's all off 'cept the count, for Jimmy goes wild. He got
to 'the Kid' by constant borein' in. Half a dozen fierce body taps
weakened the poor guy, then a couple o' face smashers, an' then the
finish. Oh, it was awful."
The listeners sighed with awe. "An' Jimmy?" requested the interlocutor.
"Oh, he got a scratch or two. But he was 'is smilin' self soon's it was
over."
Standing near the doorway, listening to every word with feverish
interest, was Erna. Her eyes shone, and her heart beat with joyous
pride.
Landsmann suddenly called to her from the kitchen: "Erna, your order is
here." She did not heed him, but waited for more details. Again, the
storekeeper called to her, but once more, she refused to heed him. The
man appeared in the doorway, his face red with vexation. "Erna! Do you
hear me?"
"Yes, yes," she retorted petulantly, and hurried past him. He followed
close behind her, and as she turned, gave her a stupid but indignant
stare. Erna returned his stare with interest, and Landsmann, beaten as
he had been so often, retreated to the store, there to seek muttered
consultation with his wife.
Erna was about to take up her order, when she came upon a remarkable
sight. She stopped, stared and, stimulated by a desire to emulate,
tiptoed forward, her strong white teeth showing in the joy of
anticipation. On the bottom of the kitchen sink, a goodly sized rat was
drinking.
The girl continued to sneak forward without making a sound. Suddenly,
her hand darted out and seized the rat by the neck; at the same time,
she turned on the water from the large faucet. With a strong grip, she
held the squirming, squeaking animal under the stream.
Gretchen screamed and ran out into the store. "_Was ist los?_" demanded
the storekeeper. Gretchen told her story in a frightened whisper. Mrs.
Landsmann and Molly screamed; several customers arose and, led by
Landsmann, who waddled forward, came into the kitchen. Landsmann stopped
short at a respectful distance from Erna, eyed her furiously and shouted
imprecations. She paid no attention to him, but continued her pleasant
task, her face alight with animal joy and brutality. The rat's life was
soon extinguished, due, perhaps, more to Erna's fingers than the water.
Proudly holding it out by the tail for display, she dropped the body
into a pail under the sink.
The storekeeper approached her, followed by the customers. The latter
profferred congratulations, but not so Herr Landsmann. He grabbed some
table refuse and dumping it into the pail, piled some old newspapers on
top, all the while averting his face as much as possible. He then turned
upon Erna, but she stood her ground, defying him, and the storekeeper
was forced to resort to still stronger imprecation. Erna grew impudent
in the knowledge of her righteousness, and Landsmann had to retreat once
more, but this time with threatening gestures and for an even angrier
consultation with his wife. The other waitresses refused to return to
the kitchen, but went over to assist Landsmann.
The customers, who had been joined by others from the rear dining room,
refused to leave the kitchen, each one wishing to pay Erna homage by
compliment or by taking her arm. Jimmy Allen was forgotten. At first,
the girl, conscious of the sensation she had created so
accidentally,--killing rats was not entirely new to her--faced her
worshippers with an exultant smile. Soon, she tired of their praise, and
more so of their physical attentions, a repetition of their usual
conduct toward her. Furthermore, the storekeeper's attitude rankled
deeper and deeper, until anger controlled her. Therefore, she pushed her
way through the gathering, ordered all back to their tables, a command
they obeyed under protest, and returned to her duties with a decidedly
willful air. If only Jimmy were here!
Within the next hour or so, Herr Landsmann, backed by his wife's moral
support, came into the kitchen four times to reprimand Erna. He had even
hunted for other pretexts to scold her. By nine o'clock, when Erna was
almost alone in her small empire, her resentment had reached a state of
revolt. Why didn't he bounce her at once? It would be better. In fact,
she would leave of her own free will. That would be better still. She
would be free. She had a right to be happy. She had always been happy.
So she would be free, Landsmann, his wife and the rest of the world
notwithstanding. How she hated and despised them! Let any one else try
to tie her hands!
Another half hour passed, and Erna's determination grew. Her whole
fighting instinct had been set astir. As a result, she had treated the
few remaining customers with contemptuous neglect. They were all of one
breed. And they left, one by one, passing remarks, laughing or trying to
banter her. Soon she was left to herself and surly reflection, as
Landsmann, luckily, had discontinued molesting her--for the present, at
least. However, a newcomer entered the dining room. But he was the
highly welcome Jimmy Allen.
Erna greeted him with joy. She had forgotten her yesterday's resentment,
in his sudden rise to honor and in her present need. And Jimmy greeted
her with joy. No other word passed between them. Instead, Jimmy embraced
her with all of his brute strength. He then tried kissing her, only to
have Erna slip from his grasp. Jimmy's blood was aroused. He pursued
Erna, cornered her and caught her with an even stronger embrace than
before, breathing hard with passion. They overturned a chair, and Jimmy
tripped and lost his hold. They both breathed rapidly, and stood apart,
watching each other. Herr Landsmann looked into the dining room, scowled
and disappeared.
Jimmy again came closer, but Erna shook her head in warning. She had
seen the storekeeper. Presently, she gave her lover a short nervous
account of her morning's trial. Jimmy swore a generous oath and begged
her to drop her work at once. But Erna hesitated.
"Ah, come out o' this!" he pleaded.
Erna would not answer.
"Come out o' this, Erna!" he repeated seriously. "You're sick o' this.
I'm sick o' this. Let's go away. We're fixed now--or as good as fixed.
The only job's the minister's. Come on, Erna!"
Still, the girl refused to answer, but it was evident that she was
weakening--as Jimmy was aware too. Hurriedly, he recounted his victory
of last night, emphasized the fact that he was stronger than ever, knew
"more about the game," and outlined the near future: that he was soon to
meet Young Walcott, whom he would dispose of, and some unknown from
Chicago. He would have quite a little money shortly, and he could
support her "as a decent woman should be supported." She would be happy.
They would both be happy. "Come on, Erna!" he concluded. "Be a sport!"
Erna was in a groggy state. One last stinging argument would have
finished her. She hesitated, as did Jimmy, who, unfortunately, resorted
to stalling.