“Son,” he said, “let me whisper
a secret. Get out of here and quit drinking
before you begin.”
The young fellow flushed angrily, but Daylight held
steadily on.
“You listen to your dad, and let him say a few.
I’m a young man myself, only I ain’t.
Let me tell you, several years ago for me to turn
your hand down would have been like committing assault
and battery on a kindergarten.”
Slosson looked his incredulity, while the others grinned
and clustered around Daylight encouragingly.
“Son, I ain’t given to preaching.
This is the first time I ever come to the penitent
form, and you put me there yourself—hard.
I’ve seen a few in my time, and I ain’t
fastidious so as you can notice it. But let
me tell you right not that I’m worth the devil
alone knows how many millions, and that I’d sure
give it all, right here on the bar, to turn down your
hand. Which means I’d give the whole shooting
match just to be back where I was before I quit sleeping
under the stars and come into the hen-coops of cities
to drink cocktails and lift up my feet and ride.
Son, that’s that’s the matter with me,
and that’s the way I feel about it. The
game ain’t worth the candle. You just take
care of yourself, and roll my advice over once in
a while. Good night.”
He turned and lurched out of the place, the moral
effect of his utterance largely spoiled by the fact
that he was so patently full while he uttered it.
Still in a daze, Daylight made to his hotel, accomplished
his dinner, and prepared for bed.
“The damned young whippersnapper!” he
muttered. “Put my hand down easy as you
please. My hand!”
He held up the offending member and regarded it with
stupid wonder. The hand that had never been
beaten! The hand that had made the Circle City
giants wince! And a kid from college, with a
laugh on his face, had put it down—twice!
Dede was right. He was not the same man.
The situation would bear more serious looking into
than he had ever given it. But this was not the
time. In the morning, after a good sleep, he
would give it consideration.
Daylight awoke with the familiar parched mouth and
lips and throat, took a long drink of water from the
pitcher beside his bed, and gathered up the train
of thought where he had left it the night before.
He reviewed the easement of the financial strain.
Things were mending at last. While the going
was still rough, the greatest dangers were already
past. As he had told Hegan, a tight rein and
careful playing were all that was needed now.
Flurries and dangers were bound to come, but not so
grave as the ones they had already weathered.
He had been hit hard, but he was coming through without
broken bones, which was more than Simon Dolliver and
many another could say. And not one of his business
friends had been ruined. He had compelled them
to stay in line to save himself, and they had been
saved as well.
