The Deaves Affair. Footner Hulbert

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      SNOOPING

      Young Deaves (his father addressed him as George) passed out through a small door on the left presumably to telephone to Evan's references. His father followed him, still protesting tearfully that the salary he purposed paying Evan would ruin them both. Evan was left standing in the middle of the room. Before he had time to take a further survey of his surroundings the door from the hall was softly opened, and a smug, pale young man in a sober suit sidled into the room, a servant. Evan learned later that "Second man" was his official title. "Spy" was writ large on him. The house seemed to be swarming with them. This fellow had undoubtedly been listening at the door.

      "Good God! who would be rich!" thought Evan.

      The servant with a sly, meaning look in Evan's direction went to a console at the left of the room, and affected to busy himself in arranging the objects upon it. In reality his long ears were stretched for sounds coming through the little door. Having satisfied himself that the Deaves' were good for several minutes in there, he came towards Evan with an ingratiating leer.

      "Nice day," he said.

      Evan's impulse was to call the fellow down, but he reflected that if he was to become an inmate of the house, it would be just as well for his own protection to learn what this snooping and eavesdropping signified.

      "Fine," he said non-committally.

      "Are you going to be one of us?"

      "I don't know yet."

      "It's a rummy joint."

      "So I gather," said Evan dryly.

      "Have you seen the Missus yet?"

      "No."

      The lackey cast up his eyes and whistled softly. "Oh boy! You've got something to see!"

      This was Evan's first experience of the below-stairs point of view. It was a revelation.

      "Were you planted here?" the servant asked with a mysterious air.

      "What do you mean?" asked Evan.

      The other quickly turned it off. "Oh nothing." He glanced towards the little door. "When you work for a bunch like this you don't feel like you owed them anything. It's every man for himself."

      "I suppose so," said Evan.

      "But there's a square bunch down-stairs. Come down to the butler's room when you can and get acquainted."

      "Thanks."

      "Take it from me you won't find it such a bad house if you stand in with the crowd down-stairs. There's money to be made on the side if you're smart enough."

      "How?" asked Evan.

      The second man winked at him knowingly. "Let's you and I get better acquainted before we get confidential."

      "Sure," said Evan. "I see you're a wise guy."

      "Wise!" said the other. "Solomon wasn't one two three with me."

      "What do they call you?"

      "Alfred. I'll make you acquainted with the bunch down-stairs. The women – " He suddenly broke off, and stiffened into the blank-faced, deferential servant.

      Young Deaves and old Deaves returned through the little door.

      "If you please, sir," said Alfred quickly, "Mr. Hilton sent me to ask what wines you would have for dinner."

      "I'm busy!" snapped George Deaves. "Tell Hilton when I want wine I'll let him know."

      "Yes, sir, very good, sir." The rubber-shod one wafted out of the room, shutting the door behind him as softly as a flower closes. George Deaves looked sharply to see that it was closed, then looked as sharply at Evan.

      "Was he talking to you?" he demanded.

      Evan quickly decided that the only safe hand to play in this strange house was a lone hand; he would take no one into his confidence. "Nothing in particular," he said.

      "Why don't you fire him, George?" asked his father.

      The younger man shrugged wearily. "What's the use? The next one would be no better." He turned his attention to Evan. "Your references were satisfactory," he said. "You may consider yourself engaged. Thirty-five dollars was the sum we agreed on, I believe."

      "No, sir, forty dollars," said Evan firmly.

      "Ah, my mistake. It's a great deal of money. I hope you'll be worth it. You will be at my father's call whenever he wants you."

      "I will come at nine o'clock every morning and stay until five. Sundays are my own of course."

      George Deaves turned to his father. "On your part, if I pay out all this money, you must promise me that you will not go out except with this young man."

      The old man gave an ungracious assent.

      "I will report at nine to-morrow," Evan said.

      "But I want to go out now," the old man said like a child.

      "You've had quite enough outing for to-day, Papa," George Deaves said severely.

      Simeon Deaves said to Evan spitefully like a balked child: "Well, your wages won't begin until to-morrow, then. To-day doesn't count."

      As Evan had his hand on the door he became aware that George Deaves was making signals to him to remain. He lingered, wondering what was in the wind now. George said to his father:

      "Lunch is ready. You'd better go down."

      Forgetting all about Evan, the old man hastened out of the room with an expectant air.

      When he had gone George Deaves hemmed and hawed, gazed at the ceiling, made scratches on his desk pad and beat all around the bush. The gist of it as finally extracted by Evan was something as follows:

      "I am not paying you all this money as a simple attendant for papa. I could get two at the price. The fact is papa has an unfortunate faculty for getting involved in street disputes. On account of his prominence a certain publicity is attached to it. Very distressing to the family. I shall expect you to keep him out of such troubles. You will have to be firm. He is very obstinate. But I authorise you to take any measures, any measures to save him from his own folly."

      Evan was tempted to ask: "Even to cracking him on the bean?" But instead he said demurely: "I quite understand."

      Evan made his way home down the Avenue ruminating upon what had happened. "In the words of Alfred it's a rummy joint," he said to himself. "Father and son are a pair of birds. What do I care? I'm not going to let them get under my skin. I'll give them their money's worth for a month or so, then bid them ta-ta and hike to the blessed country on my savings. Meanwhile the affair has its humorous side. Mystery, too. Like a play."

      If Evan had not recollected when he got to Thirtieth street that he needed certain small articles of apparel to make himself presentable in his new job, he would probably not have discovered that he was being followed. But as he retraced his steps to the shops his attention was caught by a man's back, a narrow back clad in grey. The owner of the back was looking in a СКАЧАТЬ