Amazing Stories, Vol. 3, No. 2 — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

138 The rhythm of his machine changed,eand his.thoughts were interrupted. Presently he could think again. Strange how quickly things had happened! He bore these men who had thrashed him no very vivid ill-will. He was bruised and enlightened. He saw with absolute fairness now the reasonableness of his unpopularity. He had behaved like a fool. Disdain, seclusion, are the privilege of the strong. The fallen aristocrat still clinging to his point- less distinction 1s surely the most pitiful creature of pretense in all this claimant universe. Good heavens! what was there for him to despise in these men ? What a pity he had not appreciated all this better five hours ago! What would happen at the end of the spell? He could not tell. He could not imagine. He could not imagine the thoughts of these men. He was sensible only of their hostitty and utter want of sympathy. Vague possibilities of shame and violence chased one another across his mind. Could he devise some weapon? He recalled his assault upon the hypnotist, but there were no detachable lamps here. He could see nothing that he could catch up in his defense. For a space he thought of a headlong bolt for the security of the public ways directly the spell was over. Apart from the trivial consideration of his self-respect, he perceived that this would be only a foolish postpone- ment and aggravation of his trouble. He perceived the ferret-faced man and the albino talking together with their eyes towards him. Presently they were talking to the swart man, who stood with his broad back studi- ously towards Denton. At last came the end of the second spell. The lender of oil cans stopped his press sharply and turned round, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes had the quiet expectation of one-who seats himself in a theatre, Now was the crisis, and all the little nerves of Den- ton’s being seemed leaping and dancing. He had decided to show fight if any fresh indignity was offered him. He stopped his press and turned. “With an enormous affectation of ease he walled down the vault and entered the passage of the ash pits, only to discover he had left his jacket—which he had taken off because of the heat of the vault—beside his press. He walked back. He met the albino eye to eye. He heard the ferret-faced man in exposttilation. “’E reely ought, eat it,’ said the ferret-faced man. did reely,” *“No—you leave ‘im alone, 39 said the swart man. PPARENTLY nothing further was to happen to him that day. He passed out to the passage and “staircase that led up to the moving platforms of the city, He ‘emerged on the livid brilliance and streamine movement of the public street. He became acutely aware of his disfigured face,and felt his swelling bruises with a limp, investigatory hand. He went up to the swittest platform, and seated himself on a Labor Com- pany bench. He lapsed into a pensive torpor. The immediate dan- gers and stresses of his position he saw with a sort of cr Te AMAZING STORIES static clearness. What would they do to-morrow? He could not tell. What would Elizabeth think of his brutalization? He could not tell. He was exhausted. He was aroused presently by a hand upon his arm. He looked up, and saw the swart man seated beside him, He started. Surely he was safe from violence in the public way! The swart man’s face retained no traces of his share in the fight; his expression was free from hostility— seemed almost deferential. ‘‘’Scuse me,” he said, with a total absence of truculence. Denton realized that no assault was intended. He stared, awaiting the next development. It was evident the next sentence was premeditated. “Whad—I—was—going—to say—was this,” said the swart man, and sought through a silence for farther words. “Whad—I—was—going—to say—was this,” peated. Finally he abandoned that gambit. right,” he cried, laying a grimy hand on Denton’s grimy sleeve. “You're aw right. You're a ge’man. Sorry— very sorry. Wanted to tell you that.’ Denton realized that there must exist motives be- yond a mere impulse to abominable proceeding's in the man. He meditated, and swallowed an unworthy pride. “T did not mean to be offensive to you,” he said, “in refusing that bit of bread.” “Meant it friendly,” said the swart man, recalling the scene; “but—in front of that blarsted Whitey and his snigger—Well—I ’ad to scrap.” “Yes,” said Denton with sudden fervor: *fool.” “Ah!” said the swart man, with great satisfaction. “That's aw right. Shake!” : And Denton shook. The moving platform was rushing by the establish- ment of a face moulder, and its lower front was a huge display of mirror, designed to stimulate the thirst for more symmetrical features. Denton caught the reflec- tion of himself and his new friend, enormously twisted and broadened. His own face was puffed, one-sided, and blood-stained; a grin of idiotic and insincere ami- ability distorted its latitude. A wisp of hair occluded one eye. The trick of the mirror presented the swart man as a gross expansion of lip and nostril. They ee were linked by shaking hands. Then abruptly this vi- — sion passed—to return to memory in the anaemic medi- __ tations of a waking dawn. = As he shook, the swart man made some muddled remark, to the effect that he had always known he could get on with a gentleman if one came his way. He prolonged the shaking until Denton, under the influ- ence of the mirror, withdrew his hand. The swart man became pensive, spat impressively on the platform, and. = restimed his theme. “Whad I was going to say was this,” he said; was See gravelled, and shook his head at his foot. Denton became curious. ‘Go on,” he said, attentive. _ The swart man took the plunge. He grasped Den- ton’s arm, became intimate in his attitude. ‘“*’Scuse me,” he said. “Fact is, yout done know ’ow to scrap. Done know ’ow to. Why—you done know ’ow to : COMME OOOKS.COmM) he re- “Vowre aw “T was a