The Coming of Bill Part 52
"I want to see Mr. Winfield," said Mamie.
Mr. Penway, for it was he, gave her the approving glance which your man of taste and discrimination does not fail to bestow upon youth and beauty and bawled over his shoulder--
"Kirk!"
Kirk came down the pa.s.sage. He was looking brown and healthy. He was in his shirt-sleeves.
"Oh, Mr. Winfield. I'm in such trouble."
"Why, Mamie! What's the matter? Come in."
Mamie followed him into the studio, eluding Mr. Penway, whose arm was hovering in the neighbourhood of her waist.
"Sit down," said Kirk. "What's the trouble? Have you been trying to get at me before? We've been down to Long Beach."
"A delightful spot," observed Mr. Penway, who had followed. "Sandy, but replete with squabs. Why didn't you come earlier? We could have taken you."
"May I talk privately with you, Mr. Winfield?"
"Sure."
Kirk looked at Mr. Penway, who nodded agreeably.
"Outside for Robert?" he inquired amiably. "Very well. There is no b.u.t.tinsky blood in the Penway family. Let me just fix myself a high-ball and borrow one of your cigars and I'll go and sit in the car and commune with nature. Take your time."
"Just a moment, Mamie," said Kirk, when he had gone. He picked up a telegram which lay on the table. "I'll read this and see if it's important, and then we'll get right down to business. We only got back a moment before you arrived, so I'm a bit behind with my correspondence."
As he read the telegram a look of astonishment came into his face. He sat down and read the message a second time. Mamie waited patiently.
"Good Lord!" he muttered.
A sudden thought struck Mamie.
"Mr. Winfield, is it from Steve?" she said.
Kirk started, and looked at her incredulously.
"How on earth did you know? Good Heavens! Are you in this, Mamie, too?"
Mamie handed him her note. He read it without a word. When he had finished he sat back in his chair, thinking.
"I thought Steve might have telegraphed to you," said Mamie.
Kirk roused himself from his thoughts.
"Was this what you came to see me about?"
"Yes."
"What does Ruth--what do they think of it--up there?"
"They don't know anything about it. Mrs. Winfield went away early this morning. Mr. Keggs said she had had a telephone call, Mrs. Porter is in Boston. She will be back to-day some time. What are we to do?"
"Do!" Kirk jumped up and began to pace the floor. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. Steve has taken the boy up to my shack in Connecticut.
I'm going there as fast as the auto can take me."
"Steve's mad!"
"Is he? Steve's the best pal I've got. For two years I've been aching to get at this boy, and Steve has had the sense to show me the way."
He went on as if talking to himself.
"Steve's a man. I'm just a fool who hangs round without the nerve to act. If I had had the pluck of a rabbit I'd have done this myself six months ago. But I've hung round doing nothing while that d.a.m.ned Porter woman played the fool with the boy. I'll be lucky now if he remembers who I am."
He turned abruptly to Mamie.
"Mamie, you can tell them whatever you please when you get home. They can't blame you. It's not your fault. Tell them that Steve was acting for me with my complete approval. Tell them that the kid's going to be brought up right from now on. I've got him, and I'm going to keep him."
Mamie had risen and was facing him, a very determined midget, pink and resolute.
"I'm not going home, Mr. Winfield."
"What?"
"If you are going to Bill, I am coming with you."
"Nonsense."
"That's my place--with him."
"But you can't. It's impossible."
"Not more impossible than what has happened already."
"I won't take you."
"Then I'll go by train. I know where your house is. Steve told me."
"It's out of the question."
Mamie's Irish temper got the better of her professional desire to maintain the discreetly respectful att.i.tude of employee toward employer.
"Is it then? We'll see. Do you think I'm going to leave you and Steve to look after my Bill? What do men know about taking care of children?
You would choke the poor mite or let him kill himself a hundred ways."
She glared at him defiantly. He glared back at her. Then his sense of humour came to his rescue. She looked so absurdly small standing there with her chin up and her fists clenched. He laughed delightedly. He went up to her and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, looking down at her. He felt that he loved her for her championship of Bill.
"You're a brick, Mamie. Of course you shall come. We'll call at the house and you can pack your grip. But, by George, if you put that infernal thermometer in I'll run the automobile up against a telegraph-pole, and then Bill will lose us both."