Jenkins just sat there, kind of huddled up, you know, and his face as white as the what-you-call-it snow. Didn't seem able to say a word. By Jove, it was too much for me; my heart just went out to him.
"It's all right, Jenkins," I said kindly, and I patted his knee. "Doesn't make a jolly bit of difference to me, personally. Just told you because I thought you ought to know. You just go right along and continue your duties, so far as I am concerned."
Jenkins' hand slipped along his knee and ventured to touch mine timidly. He rose heavily.
"Mr. Lightnut, sir," he said huskily, "if you're not going to need me very much, could I be excused for a while to-night?"
"By Jove, yes, Jenkins! Go out and enjoy the evening; it will do you good. Stay as long as you like, dash it! You know I dine to-night at the club. Go to a roof garden and get some fresh air."
A toss of the head broke Jenkins' calm; his fist struck his palm.
"It ain't that, sir," he exclaimed. "I don't want no fresh air, but I do want fresh resolution and a fresh start. I'm going to find _him_."
"Him!" I was startled. Dash me, I half thought he meant the Chinaman.
"Him, sir; that temperance lecturer, I mean. I'm going to get out a paper against that old enemy there!" And he shook his fist at the whisky decanter.
"Long distance call from Mr. Billings, sir," said Jenkins, lifting the receiver.
By Jove, he had just caught me as I was about to leave.
"Hello! That you, Lightnut?" came his voice. "Say, old chap, you remember you said you wouldn't mind putting up the kid overnight on the way home from college. Remember? Wants to rest over and come up the river on the day line."
"All right, then; it's to-night. Be there about nine from Boston. Don't go to any trouble, now, nor alter any plans. The kid will probably be dead tired and off to bed before you get home from your dinner."
"That's all right, old chap; Jenkins will look after the young one."
I heard Billings chuckle--I remembered that chuckle afterward.
"Not much of the young one there. Eighteen, you know. Never off to school, though, until last year--and by George, it was time! Between my mother and my sister the kid was being absolutely ruined--petted, mollycoddled, and was getting soft and silly--oh, something to make you sick. Well, so much obliged, Dicky. You know what these hotels are. Good-by."