"One question," said the patient, weakly.
"Well, just one."
"A girl--who gave me something to eat?"
"Yes. She fed you, and later probably your life."
"Thanks." Hawksley closed his eyes.
Cutty and the nurse watched him interestedly for a few minutes; but as
he did not stir again the nurse took up her temperature sheet and Cutty
returned to his eggs. Was there a girl? No question about the emeralds,
no interest in the day and the hour. Was there a girl? The last person
he had seen, Kitty; the first question, after coming into the light: Had
he seen her? Then and there Cutty knew that when he died he would
carry into the Beyond, of all his earthly possessions--a chuckle. Human
beings!
The yarn that reporter had missed by a hair--front page, eight-column
head! But he had missed it, and that was the main thing. The poor devil!
Beaten and without a sou marque in his pockets, his trail was likely to
be crowded without the assistance of any newspaper publicity. But what a
yarn! What a whale of a yarn!
In his fevered flights Hawksley had spoken of having paid Kitty for that
meal.
Kitty had said nothing about it. Supposing-"Telephone, sair," announced the Jap. "Lady."
Molly's girl! Cutty sprinted to the telephone.
"Hello! That you, Kitty?"
"Yes. How is Johnny Two-Hawks?"
"Back to earth."
"When can I see him? I'm just crazy to know what the story is!"
"Say the third or fourth day from this. We'll have him shaved and
sitting up then."
"Has he talked?"
"Not permitted. Still determined to stay the run of your lease?" Cutty
heard a laugh. "All right. Only I hope you will never have cause to
regret this decision."
"Fiddlesticks! All I've got to do in danger is to press a button, and
presto! here's Bernini."
"Kitty, did Hawksley pay you for that meal?"
"Good heavens, no! What makes you ask that?"
"In his delirium he spoke of having paid you. I didn't know." Cutty's
heart began to rap against his ribs. Supposing, after all, Karlov hadn't
the stones? Supposing Hawksley had hidden them somewhere in Kitty's
kitchen?
"Anything about Gregor?"
"No. Remember, you're to call me up twice a day and report the news.
Don't go out nights if you can avoid it."
"I'll be good," Kitty agreed. "And now I must hie me to the job.
Imagine, Cutty!--writing personalities about stage folks and gabfesting
with Burlingame and all the while my brain boiling with this affair!
The city room will kill me, Cutty, if it ever finds out that I held back
such a yarn. But it wouldn't be fair to Johnny Two-Hawks. Cutty, did you
know that your wonderful drums of jeopardy are here in New York?"