The Jungle (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (40 page)

Jurgis began again, speaking more slowly and distinctly; before he was half through the other put out his hand and rested it upon his shoulder. “Poor ole chappie!” he said. “Been up—hie—up—against it, hey?”

Then he lurched toward Jurgis, and the hand upon his shoulder became an arm about his neck. “Up against it myself, ole sport,” he said. “She’s a hard ole world.”

They were close to a lamp post, and Jurgis got a glimpse of the other. He was a young fellow—not much over eighteen, with a handsome boyish face. He wore a silk hat and a rich soft overcoat with a fur collar; and he smiled at Jurgis with benignant sympathy. “I’m hard up, too, my goo’ fren‘,” he said. “I’ve got cruel parents, or I’d set you up. Whuzzamatter whizyer?”

“I’ve been in the hospital.”

“Hospital!” exclaimed the young fellow, still smiling sweetly, “thass too bad! Same’s my Aunt Polly—hic—my Aunt Polly’s in the hospital, too—ole auntie’s been havin’ twins! Whuzzamatter whiz
you?”

“I’ve got a broken arm—” Jurgis began.

“So,” said the other, sympathetically. “That ain’t so bad—you get over that. I wish somebody’s break
my
arm, ole chappie—damfi- don’t ! Then they’s treat me better—hic—hole me up, ole sport! Whuzzit you wamme do?”

“I’m hungry, sir,” said Jurgis.

“Hungry! Why don’t you hassome supper?”

“I’ve got no money, sir.”

“No money! Ho, ho—less be chums, ole boy—jess like me! No money, either,—a‘most busted! Why don’t you go home, then, same’s me?”

“I haven’t any home,” said Jurgis.

“No home! Stranger in the city, hey? Goo’ God, thass bad! Better come home wiz me—yes, by Harry, thass the trick, you’ll come home an’ hassome supper—hic—wiz me! Awful lonesome—nobody home! Guv‘ner gone abroad—Bubby on’s honeymoon—Polly havin’ twins—every damn soul gone away! Nuff—hic—nuff to drive a feller to drink, I say! Only ole Ham standin’ by, passin’ plates—damfican eat like that, no sir! The club for me every time, my boy, I say. But then they won’t lemme sleep there—guv’ner’s orders, by Harry—home every night, sir! Ever hear anythin’ like that? ‘Every mornin’ do?’ I asked him. ‘No, sir, every night, or no allowance at all, sir.’ Thass my guv‘ner—hic—hard as nails, by Harry! Tole ole Ham to watch me, too—servants spyin’ on me—whuzyer think that, my fren’? A nice, quiet—hic—good-hearted young feller like me, an’ his daddy can’t go to Europe—hup!—an’ leave him in peace! Ain’t that a shame, sir? An’ I gotter go home every evenin’ an’ miss all the fun, by Harry! Thass whuzzamatter now—thass why I’m here! Hadda come away an’ leave Kitty—hic—left her cryin‘, too—whujja think of that, ole sport? ’Lemme go, Kittens,‘ says I—’come early an’ often—I go where duty—hic—calls me. Farewell, farewell, my own true love—farewell, fare-we-hell, my-own-true-love!‘ ”

This last was a song, and the young gentleman’s voice rose mournful and wailing, while he swung upon Jurgis’s neck. The latter was glancing about nervously, lest some one should approach. They were still alone, however.

“But I came all right, all right,” continued the youngster, aggressively. “I can—hic—I can have my own way when I want it, by Harry—Freddie Jones is a hard man to handle when he gets goin‘! ’No, sir,‘ says I, ’by thunder, and I don’t need anybody goin’ home with me, either—whujja take me for, hey? Think I’m drunk, dontcha, hey?—I know you! But I’m no more drunk than you are, Kittens,‘ says I to her. And then says she, ’Thass true, Freddie dear’ (she’s a smart one, is Kitty), ‘but I’m stayin’ in the flat, an’ you’re goin’ out into the cold, cold night!’ ‘Put it in a pome, lovely Kitty,’ says I. ‘No jokin’, Freddie, my boy,‘ says she. ’Lemme call a cab now, like a good dear‘—but I can call my own cabs, dontcha fool yourself—I know what I’m a-doin’, you bet! Say, my fren‘, whatcha say—willye come home an’ see me, an’ hassome supper? Come ’long like a good feller—don’t be haughty! You’re up against it, same as me, an’ you can unnerstan’ a feller; your heart’s in the right place, by Harry—come ‘long, ole chappie, an’ we’ll light up the house, an’ have some fizz, an’ we’ll raise hell, we will—whoop-la! S’long’s I’m inside the house I can do as I please—the guv‘ner’s own very orders, b’God! Hip! hip!”

They had started down the street, arm in arm, the young man pushing Jurgis along, half dazed. Jurgis was trying to think what to do—he knew he could not pass any crowded place with his new acquaintance without attracting attention and being stopped. It was only because of the falling snow that people who passed here did not notice anything wrong.

Suddenly, therefore, Jurgis stopped. “Is it very far?” he inquired.

“Not very,” said the other. “Tired, are you, though? Well, we’ll ride—whatcha say? Good! Call a cab!”

And then, gripping Jurgis tight with one hand, the young fellow began searching his pockets with the other. “You call, ole sport, an’ I’ll pay,” he suggested. “How’s that, hey?”

And he pulled out from somewhere a big roll of bills. It was more money than Jurgis had ever seen in his life before, and he stared at it with startled eyes.

“Looks like a lot, hey?” said Master Freddie, fumbling with it. “Fool you, though, ole chappie—they’re all little ones! I’ll be busted in one week more, sure thing—word of honor. An’ not a cent more till the first—hic—guv‘ner’s orders—hic—not a cent, by Harry! Nuff to set a feller crazy, it is. I sent him a cable this af’noon—thass one reason more why I’m goin’ home. ‘Hangin’ on the verge of starvation,’ I says—‘for the honor of the family—hic—sen’ me some bread. Hunger will compel me to join you.—Freddie.’ Thass what I wired him, by Harry, an’ I mean it—I’ll run away from school, b‘God, if he don’t sen’ me some.”

After this fashion the young gentleman continued to prattle on—and meantime Jurgis was trembling with excitement. He might grab that wad of bills and be out of sight in the darkness before the other could collect his wits. Should he do it? What better had he to hope for, if he waited longer? But Jurgis had never committed a crime in his life, and now he hesitated half a second too long. “Freddie” got one bill loose, and then stuffed the rest back into his trousers’ pocket.

“Here, ole man,” he said, “you take it.” He held it out fluttering. They were in front of a saloon; and by the light of the window Jurgis saw that it was a hundred-dollar bill!

“You take it,” the other repeated. “Pay the cabbie an’ keep the change—I’ve got—hic—no head for business! Guv‘ner says so his-self, an’ the guv’ner knows—the guv‘ner’s got a head for business, you bet! ’All right, guv‘ner,’ I told him ‘you run the show, and I’ll take the tickets!’ An’ so he set Aunt Polly to watch me—hic—an’ now Polly’s off in the hospital havin’ twins, an’ me out raisin’ Cain! Hello, there! Hey! Call him!”

A cab was driving by; and Jurgis sprang and called, and it swung round to the curb. Master Freddie clambered in with some difficulty, and Jurgis had started to follow, when the driver shouted: “Hi, there! Get out—you!”

Jurgis hesitated, and was half obeying; but his companion broke out: “Whuzzat? Whuzzamatter wiz you, hey?”

And the cabbie subsided, and Jurgis climbed in. Then Freddie gave a number on the Lake Shore Drive, and the carriage started away. The youngster leaned back and snuggled up to Jurgis, murmuring contentedly; in half a minute he was sound asleep. Jurgis sat shivering, speculating as to whether he might not still be able to get hold of the roll of bills. He was afraid to try to go through his companion’s pockets, however; and besides, the cabbie might be on the watch. He had the hundred safe, and he would have to be content with that.

 

 

At the end of half an hour or so the cab stopped. They were out on the water-front, and from the east a freezing gale was blowing off the ice-bound lake. “Here we are,” called the cabbie, and Jurgis awakened his companion.

Master Freddie sat up with a start.

“Hello!” he said. “Where are we? Whuzzis? Who are you, hey? Oh, yes, sure nuff! Mos’ forgot you—hic—ole chappie! Home, are we? Lessee! Br-r-r—it’s cold! Yes—come ‘long—we’re home—be it ever so—hic—humble!”

Before them there loomed an enormous granite pile, set far back from the street, and occupying a whole block. By the light of the driveway lamps Jurgis could see that it had towers and huge gables, like a mediaeval castle. He thought that the young fellow must have made a mistake—it was inconceivable to him that any person could have a home like a hotel or the city hall. But he followed in silence, and they went up the long flight of steps, arm in arm.

“There’s a button here, ole sport,” said Master Freddie. “Hole my arm while I find her! Steady, now—oh, yes, here she is! Saved!”

A bell rang, and in a few seconds the door was opened. A man in blue livery stood holding it, and gazing before him, silent as a statue.

They stood for a moment blinking in the light. Then Jurgis felt his companion pulling, and he stepped in, and the blue automaton closed the door. Jurgis’s heart was beating wildly; it was a bold thing for him to do—into what strange unearthly place he was venturing he had no idea. Aladdin entering his cave could not have been more excited.

The place where he stood was dimly lighted; but he could see a vast hall, with pillars fading into the darkness above, and a great staircase opening at the far end of it. The floor was of tesselated marble, smooth as glass, and from the walls strange shapes loomed out, woven into huge portières in rich, harmonious colors, or gleaming from paintings, wonderful and mysterious-looking in the half-light, purple and red and golden, like sunset glimmers in a shadowy forest.

The man in livery had moved silently toward them; Master Freddie took off his hat and handed it to him, and then, letting go of Jurgis’s arm, tried to get out of his overcoat. After two or three attempts he accomplished this, with the lackey’s help; and meantime a second man had approached, a tall and portly personage, solemn as an executioner. He bore straight down upon Jurgis, who shrank away nervously; he seized him by the arm without a word, and started toward the door with him. Then suddenly came Master Freddie’s voice, “Hamilton! My fren’ will remain wiz me.”

The man paused and half released Jurgis. “Come ‘long, ole chappie,” said the other, and Jurgis started toward him.

“Master Frederick!” exclaimed the man.

“See that the cabbie—hic—is paid,” was the other’s response; and he linked his arm in Jurgis’s. Jurgis was about to say, “I have the money for him,” but he restrained himself. The stout man in uniform signalled to the other, who went out to the cab, while he followed Jurgis and his young master.

They went down the great hall, and then turned. Before them were two huge doors.

“Hamilton,” said Master Freddie.

“Well, sir?” said the other.

“Whuzzamatter wizze dinin‘-room doors?”

“Nothing is the matter, sir.”

“Then why dontcha openum?”

The man rolled them back; another vista lost itself in the darkness. “Lights,” commanded Master Freddie; and the butler pressed a button, and a flood of brilliant incandescence streamed from above, half blinding Jurgis. He stared; and little by little he made out the great apartment, with a domed ceiling from which the light poured, and walls that were one enormous painting—nymphs and dryads dancing in a flower-strewn glade—Diana with her hounds and horses, dashing headlong through a mountain streamlet—a group of maidens bathing in a forest-pool-all life-size, and so real that Jurgis thought that it was some work of enchantment, that he was in a dream-palace. Then his eye passed to the long table in the centre of the hall, a table black as ebony, and gleaming with wrought silver and gold. In the centre of it was a huge carven bowl, with the glistening gleam of ferns and the red and purple of rare orchids, glowing from a light hidden somewhere in their midst.

“This’s the dinin‘-room,” observed Master Freddie. “How you like it, hey, ole sport?”

He always insisted on having an answer to his remarks, leaning over Jurgis and smiling into his face. Jurgis liked it.

“Rummy ole place to feed in all ‘lone, though,” was Freddie’s comment—“rummy’s hell! Whuzya think, hey?” Then another idea occurred to him and he went on, without waiting: “Maybe you never saw anything—hic—like this ’fore? Hey, ole chappie?”

“No,” said Jurgis.

“Come from country, maybe—hey?”

“Yes,” said Jurgis.

“Aha! I thosso! Lossa folks from country never saw such a place. Guv‘ner brings ’em—free show—hic—reg‘lar circus! Go home tell folks about it. Ole man Jones’s place—Jones the packer—beef-trust man. Made it all out of hogs, too, damn ole scoundrel. Now we see where our pennies go—rebates, an’ private-car lines—hic—by Harry! Bully place, though—worth seein’! Ever hear of Jones the packer, hey, ole chappie?”

Jurgis had started involuntarily; the other, whose sharp eyes missed nothing, demanded: “Whuzzamatter, hey? Heard of him?”

And Jurgis managed to stammer out: “I have worked for him in the yards.”

“What!” cried Master Freddie, with a yell.
“You!
In the yards? Ho, ho! Why, say, thass good! Shake hands on it, ole man—by Harry! Guv‘ner ought to be here—glad to see you. Great fren’s with the men, guv’ner—labor an’ capital, commun‘ty ’f int‘rests, an’ all that—hic! Funny things happen in this world, don’t they, ole man? Hamilton, lemme interduce you—fren’ the family—ole fren’ the guv’ner‘s—works in the yards. Come to spend the night wiz me, Hamilton—have a hot time. My fren’, Mr.—whuzya name, ole chappie? Tell us your name.”

“Rudkus—Jurgis Rudkus.”

“My fren‘, Mr. Rudnose, Hamilton—shake han’s.”

The stately butler bowed his head, but made not a sound; and suddenly Master Freddie pointed an eager finger at him. “I know whuzzamatter wiz you, Hamilton—lay you a dollar I know! You think—hic—you think I’m drunk! Hey, now?”

And the butler again bowed his head. “Yes, sir,” he said, at which Master Freddie hung tightly upon Jurgis’s neck and went into a fit of laughter. “Hamilton, you damn ole scoundrel,” he roared, “I’ll ‘scharge you for impudence, you see ’f I don‘t! Ho, ho, ho! I’m drunk! Ho, ho!”