days later. His wife did not question him, but
waited for him to speak. Those years of experience already mentioned had
taught her diplomacy. He looked at her and pulled his beard. "Well," he
observed, when they were alone together, "I saw him."

"The--the boy?" eagerly.

"No, no! Course not! The boy's at school somewhere up in New York State;
how could I see him! I saw that lawyer and I found out about--about the
other scamp. He was killed in an auto accident, drunk at the time, I
cal'late. Nigh's I can gather he's been drinkin' pretty heavy for the
last six or seven years. Always lived high, same as his kind generally
does, and spent money like water, I judge--but goin' down hill fast
lately. His voice was givin' out on him and he realized it, I presume
likely. Now he's dead and left nothin' but trunks full of stage clothes
and photographs and," contemptuously, "letters from fool women, and
debts--Lord, yes! debts enough."

"But the boy, Zelotes. Janie's boy?"

"He's been at this school place for pretty nigh ten years, so the lawyer
feller said. That lawyer was a pretty decent chap, too, for a furriner.
Seems he used to know this--Speranza rascal--when Speranza was younger
and more decent--if he ever was really decent, which I doubt. But this
lawyer man was his friend then and about the only one he really had when
he was hurt. There was plenty of make-believe friends hangin' on, like
pilot-fish to a shark, for what they could get by spongin' on him, but
real friends were scarce."

"And the boy--"

"For the Lord sakes, Mother, don't keep sayin' 'The boy,' 'the boy,'
over and over again like a talkin' machine! Let me finish about the
father first. This Weis--er--thingamajig--the lawyer, had quite a talk
with Speranza afore he died, or while he was dyin'; he only lived a few
hours after the accident and was out of his head part of that. But
he said enough to let Weiss--er--er--Oh, why CAN'T I remember that
Portygee's name?--to let him know that he'd like to have him settle up
what was left of his affairs, and to send word to us about--about the
boy. There! I hope you feel easier, Mother; I've got 'round to 'the boy'
at last."

"But why did he want word sent to us, Zelotes? He never wrote a line to
us in his life."

"You bet he didn't!" bitterly; "he knew better. Why did he want word
sent now? The answer to that's easy enough. 'Cause he wanted to get
somethin' out of us, that's the reason. From what that lawyer