CHAPTER VI
There was another pause, then Alfred drew in his breath and bore downupon Jimmy with fresh vehemence. "The only time I get even a semblanceof truth out of Zoie," he cried, "is when I catch her red-handed."Again he pounded the table and again Jimmy winced. "And even then," hecontinued, "she colours it so with her affected innocence and her pleaabout just wishing to be a 'good fellow,' that she almost makes me doubtmy own eyes. She is an artist," he declared with a touch of enforcedadmiration. "There's no use talking; that woman is an artist."
"What are you going to do?" asked Jimmy, for the want of anything betterto say.
"I am going to leave her," declared Alfred emphatically. "I am goingaway."
A faint hope lit Jimmy's round childlike face. With Alfred away therewould be no further investigation of the luncheon incident.
"That might be a good idea," he said.
"It's THE idea," said Alfred; "most of my business is in Detroit anyhow.I'm going to make that my headquarters and stay there."
Jimmy was almost smiling.
"As for Zoie," continued Alfred, "she can stay right here and go as faras she likes."
"Not with me," thought Jimmy.
"But," shrieked Alfred, with renewed emphasis, "I'm going to find outwho the FELLOW is. I'll have THAT satisfaction!"
Jimmy's spirits fell.
"Henri knows the head-waiter of every restaurant in this town," saidAlfred, "that is, every one where she'd be likely to go; and he sayshe'd recognise the man she lunched with if he saw him again."
Jimmy's features became suddenly distorted.
"The minute she appears anywhere with anybody," explained Alfred, "Henriwill be notified by 'phone. He'll identify the man and then he'll wireme."
"What good will that do?" asked Jimmy weakly.
"I'll take the first train home," declared Alfred.
"For what?" questioned Jimmy.
"To shoot him!" exclaimed Alfred.
"What!" gasped Jimmy, almost losing his footing.
Alfred mistook Jimmy's concern for anxiety on his behalf.
"Oh, I'll be acquitted," he declared. "Don't you worry. I'll get my taleof woe before the jury."
"But I say," protested Jimmy, too uneasy to longer conceal his realemotions, "why kill this one particular chap when there are so manyothers?"
"He's the only one she's ever lunched with, ALONE," said Alfred. "She'sbeen giddy, but at least she's always been chaperoned, except with him.He's the one all right; there's no doubt about it. He's the beginning ofthe end."
"His own end, yes," assented Jimmy half to himself. "Now, see here, oldman," he argued, "I'd give that poor devil a chance to explain."
"Explain!" shouted Alfred so sharply that Jimmy quickly retreated. "Iwouldn't believe him now if he were one of the Twelve Apostles."
"That's tough," murmured Jimmy as he saw the last avenue of honourableescape closed to him.
"Tough!" roared Alfred, thinking of himself. "Hah."
"On the Apostles, I mean," explained Jimmy nervously.
Again Alfred paced up and down the room, and again Jimmy tried to thinkof some way to escape from his present difficulty. It was quite apparentthat his only hope lay not in his own candor, but in Alfred's absence."How long do you expect to be away?" he asked.
"Only until I hear from Henri," said Alfred.
"Henri?" repeated Jimmy and again a gleam of hope shone on his dullfeatures. He had heard that waiters were often to be bribed. "Nicefellow, Henri," he ventured cautiously. "Gets a large salary, no doubt?"
"Does he!" exclaimed Alfred, with a certain pride of proprietorship. "Notips could touch Henri, no indeed. He's not that sort of a person."
Again the hope faded from Jimmy's round face.
"I look upon Henri as my friend," continued Alfred enthusiastically. "Hespeaks every language known to man. He's been in every country in theworld. HENRI UNDERSTANDS LIFE."
"LOTS of people UNDERSTAND LIFE," commented Jimmy dismally, "but SOMEpeople don't APPRECIATE it. They value it too lightly, to MY way ofthinking."
"Ah, but you have something to live for," argued Alfred.
"I have indeed; a great deal," agreed Jimmy, more and more abused at thethought of what he was about to lose.
"Ah, that's different," exclaimed Alfred. "But what have _I_?"
Jimmy was in no frame of mind to consider his young friend's assets, hewas thinking of his own difficulties.
"I'm a laughing stock," shouted Alfred. "I know it. A 'good thing' whogives his wife everything she asks for, while she is running aroundwith--with my best friend, for all I know."
"Oh, no, no," protested Jimmy nervously. "I wouldn't say that."
"Even if she weren't running around," continued Alfred excitedly,without heeding his friend's interruption, "what have we to look forwardto? What have we to look backward to?"
Again Jimmy's face was a blank.
Alfred answered his own question by lifting his arms tragically towardHeaven. "One eternal round of wrangles and rows! A childless home! Doyou think she wants babies?" he cried, wheeling about on Jimmy, anddaring him to answer in the affirmative. "Oh, no!" he sneered. "All shewants is a good time."
"Well," mumbled Jimmy, "I can't see much in babies myself, fat, little,red worms."
Alfred's breath went from him in astonishment
"Weren't YOU ever a fat, little, red worm?" he hissed. "Wasn't _I_ever a little, fat, red----" he paused in confusion, as his ear becamepuzzled by the proper sequence of his adjectives, "a fat, red, littleworm," he stammered; "and see what we are now!" He thrust out his chestand strutted about in great pride.
"Big red worms," admitted Jimmy gloomily.
But Alfred did not hear him. "You and I ought to have SONS on the way towhat we are," he declared, "and better."
"Oh yes, better," agreed Jimmy, thinking of his present plight. "Muchbetter."
"But HAVE we?" demanded Alfred.
Jimmy glanced about the room, as though expecting an answeringdemonstration from the ceiling.
"Have YOU?" persisted Alfred.
Jimmy shook his head solemnly.
"Have _I_?" asked the irate husband.
Out of sheer absent mindedness Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.
As usual Alfred answered his own question. "Oh, no!" he raged. "YOU havea wife who spends her time and money gadding about with----"
Jimmy's face showed a new alarm.
"--my wife," concluded Alfred.
Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief.
"I have a wife," said Alfred, "who spends her time and my money gaddingaround with God knows whom. But I'll catch him!" he cried with new fury."Here," he said, pulling a roll of bills from his pocket. "I'll bet youI'll catch him. How much do you want to bet?"
Undesirous of offering any added inducements toward his own capture,Jimmy backed away both literally and figuratively from Alfred'sproposition.
"What's the use of getting so excited?" he asked.
Mistaking Jimmy's unwillingness to bet for a disinclination to takeadvantage of a friend's reckless mood, Alfred resented the impliedinsult to his astuteness.
"You think I can't catch him?" he exclaimed. "Let's see the colour ofyour money," he demanded.
But before Jimmy could comply, an unexpected voice broke into theargument and brought them both round with a start.
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