"Well, say," said Billy disgusted, "after I've come all this way too!
You go tell 'er I've brought her jewels! You go tell 'er I've gottum
here!"
The butler opened the door a little wider: he suggested that seeing was
believing.
"Not on yer tin type!" snapped Billy, "I show 'em to nobody an' I give
'em to nobody but the owner! Where's the young fella? He knows me. Tell
'im I brang his ma's string o' beads an' things."
Billy was weary. His head was spinning round. His temper was rising.
"Aw,--you make me tired! Get out of my way!" He lowered his head and
made a football dive with his head in the region of the dignified
butler's stomach, and before that dignitary had recovered his poise
Billy with two collies joyously escorting him, stood blinking in wonder
over the great beautiful living room, for all the world as pretty as
the church at home, only stranger, with things around that he couldn't
make out the use of.
"Where'ur they at? Where are the folks?" he shouted back to the butler
who was coming after him with menace in his eye.
"What is the matter, Morris? What is all this noise about?" came a
lady's voice in pettish tones from up above somewhere. "Didn't I tell
you that I wouldn't see another one of those dreadful people to-day?"
Billy located her smooth old childish face at once and strode to the
foot of the stairs peering up at the lady, white with pain from his
contact with the butler, but alert now to the task before him: "Say, Miz Shaf't'n, I got yer jools, would ya mind takin' 'em right
now? 'Cause I'm all in an' I wantta get home."
His head was going around now like a merry-go-round, but he steadied
himself by the bannister: "Why, what do you mean?" asked the lady descending a step or two, a
vision of marcelled white hair, violet and lace negligee, and well
preserved features, "You've got them there? Let me see them."
"He's been drinking, Sarah, can't you smell it?" said a man's voice
higher up, "Come away and let Morris deal with him. Really Sarah, we'll
have to go away if this keeps up."
"Say, you guy up there, just shut yer trap a minute won't ya! Here, Miz
Shaf't'n, are these here yours?"
Billy struggled with the neck of his blouse and brought forth the
leather bag, gripped the knot fiercely in his teeth, ran his fingers in
the bag as he held it in his mouth, his lamed arm hanging at his side,
and drew forth the magnificent pearls.