Mrs. Roberto - Or the Widowy Worries of the Moosepath League by Van Reid

Author:Van Reid
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781608935253
Publisher: Down East Books

32. Dollars to Doughnuts

Arriving streetside by the narrow stairs, Ephram, Eagleton, and Thump were conscious that the day had darkened. Eagleton pondered the clouds. It was not at all what he had expected, or, rather, what yesterday’s Portland Daily Advertiser had predicted. He wondered what the paper had said this morning; he always felt peculiar when he was out of its reach.

“We are little better off than when we began,” lamented Ephram.

“Mr. Siegfried was a very nice gentleman,” said Eagleton.

“He was, wasn’t he,” said Ephram. The thought cheered him somewhat.

“Mr. Mullett did seem concerned about the day of the week,” said Thump.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” agreed Eagleton.

“I would not be sorry to have our chairman’s ear at this moment,” said Ephram, and all three of them nodded solemnly. “And Mr. Moss’s.”

“I’d stand across the street, were I you,” said Leander Spark. It was odd how he could all but disappear behind the fog of their concentration.

“Oh?” said Eagleton.

The husky fellow pointed. “Behind one of those carriages.”

“Would you?”

For reply, Sparky walked into the street, hardly troubling to look for traffic. An oncoming horse and wagon pulled up suddenly and he patted the animal’s nose as he passed by. The Moosepathians looked inquiringly at the driver, who gave them a growl and waved them on. Hanging on to their hats (or their missing hats), they hurried after their guide; the street seemed uncommonly wide and filled with horses and rigs, and their path described a good deal of weaving and bobbing before they accomplished what Sparky had managed in a straight line. The brawny fellow waited for them behind a carriage, and it was a moment before they saw him beckoning. Eagleton still held his hand on top of his head. Sparky peered at him.

“Here we are!” said Ephram breathlessly.

Sparky peered through the carriage windows at the entrance to W. Siegfried and Son across the way. “I don’t bout, these days,” he said, applying a rough sleeve to the near piece of glass.

“Don’t you?” said Ephram.

Sparky thumbed his nose with his left hand and jabbed softly at Ephram with his right. “I don’t fight anymore, you see.”

“That’s very good,” said Eagleton.

“I lost my wind.” A well-dressed man paused on the sidewalk to regard them with suspicion. Sparky grinned savagely at the fellow, and the well-dressed man flinched and hurried on his way. Other passersby cast glances at the four men. Sparky said, “My legs don’t hold up. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that the legs aren’t the first to go.”

“I certainly won’t,” said Ephram. He and his friends vaguely understood what the man was imparting to them but not why. “Thump mediated a boxing match last July,” Ephram informed their guide.

“Did he?” Sparky seemed surprised. “Well, I don’t bout these days. But I do take on collections for certain parties to whom money is owed. And I’ve learned something about people who owe money.”

“Oh?” said Ephram.

“Aye. And that’s that none of their friends or relatives ever know where they’ve gone to.

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