The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-06-11
CHAPTER w.

! Cream Brush, Irish by birth, long a New
York tory, had emerged from the lower Or
der OF men and won himself a position at the
| skirts Of the upper. It was delicate sta
ton, with difficulty held, occasionally cried
upon with the voice Of scandal Brag, blus-
ter and sometimes force were necessary, for
he was sheep dog OF great men, trained to
fetch and carry, guard, and even bite But
| as dogs are occasionally discarded 10y their
| masters, SO are human servants. His latest
| stroke of fortune leaving him adrift, he came
to Boston to take advantage of the turn in
politics, and also to see his ancient friend,
Thomas Ellery -
Brush made himself free of the Ellery libra
ry, and threw himself into a chair. He gazed
| approximately around the room, which, with
its faded grandeur, still meant riches. Ellery
was Brush's gold mine. his money in the
bank. Occasionally he chuckled as he wait
3D. and squirting into the fireplace the juices
of his quid, thought cheerfully Of marriage
long ago. And when he saw at the door a
pinched and haggard face, he laughed with
self content.
Come in, Tom,'' he cried That's right,
too; shut the door. Why, you are the same
pair Of tongs. Can you put on no flesh with
your rches?'' ,- . .
A pair of tongs Ellery was indeed, by con-
trast with the burly man who sat and jeered
at him. A shaky pair at that, as he stared
at Brush, painting and dismayed. Brush, loll
ing at ease. slapping his boot with his whip,
| changed presently his laugh to something Of
more meaning.
"A pretty welcome he said. t'No better
greeting, Tom, to your other-in-l-''
"sh!'' cried Ellery in a fright. y
$50 touch your asked Brush coolly. but
| no one will hear. unless your nevvy has a
habit of listening at doors. Well, here ann.
| What do you say to me?'' -
| lit does SEEM whined Ellery ''as if you
might have stayed away:
! What me?' and Brush laughed.
| II paid you to- ~ y, .' -.
"'Tut tut man, times up. stayed four
years for, your little ego. Now the troops are
back, I'm here again. e..
mot to stay?'' faltered 'Ellery. = -
| Certainly. Fine picking from the army
| always. I'm a little out of. elbow. see
| They laughed at me at the tavern to-day, but
with a new suit from you and "a job from the
governor, I shall do well for while -
Ellery WINGED He could not respond to the
suggestion of clothes. for his pockets sake,
and there were certain topics that drew him
with unpleasant fascination while yet his
apprehensive heart held him back. Brush
watched him with a broadening smile. well,
| man. he demanded after "a moment of ST.
lence, "have you no interest in your loving
| friends?'
What friends?" hesitated Ellery
| 'She sends you her love- answered Brush.
| thought so cheerfully was no pleasant recol-
lection for him 1t was a union compelled by
| the threat of the cudgel, and though smoothed
by a. promise of secrecy, it had caused him
hall his woes ever since. II hope" he salad,
| 'tthat she is we'll. - ..~., -. - e.. -
"oh, do ye?'' retorted Brush; "Well, now,
I'd not have thought it. Where is the money
in all this while that should keep my sister
in good health? That's what she'd like to
know tE .,-r~ 49,:
| The position, face to face with Brush, was
little uncomfortable Ellery took a chair at
the farther end of the table. II sent money
he answered uncomfortably. /
| did ye?" asked Brush, leaning forward to
scowl at him around the tall flagon. :"A little
came, to be sure Bedad, twas not enough to
| keep her in clothes, let alone the boy
How is the boy?'' asked Ellery, for the d-
versions sake. ! But inwardly he groaned,
Two hungry mouths to feed A growing boy
| to clothe. 49, ~ mi 49, :. D. 90
"Well enough" answered Brush, He leaned
back to grin, then forward to scowl again.
"Well enough, thanks to the labor of his
loving uncle. I've done for that boy, Thomas
Ellery, what his father should have done, and
say it ye squarely.' =, o.. -. :
The discomforts of life pressed heavy upon
Ellery. He squirrr1ed in his chair, and locked
and unlocked his fingers in a gesture that
I was very nearly a wringing of his hands. "I
sent money, - he repeated. : -
| cay answered brush. "But twas not
i enough. And I'm here this day-old friend
ships sake aside-to inquire what re mean to
do for the wife and child that are dependent
on you 49, -...- ...-~ -.
He grinned behind the fagon again, leering
1 the while with one eye cooked keenly. There
Il was a confident good nature in his Tone as
one who, though watching for any sudden at
1 tempt of his victim to- escape. is sure of his
. result. Come, Tom,' he added speak UP
hxy. f<r>' .rg ~.
So the process began, scientifically of ex-
tracing money. from sEllery. Loud protests
of poverty were Of no avail. What have
| you been doing in these years, - sneered
Brush, eff not laying it by? The estate. in
debt? Good Lord, Tom, tell that to your
/ nephews', Sums at. last were mentioned,
and wretching haggling followed. Ellery.
like an old hen. few squawking from cover
to cover. Brush, like the farmer amused,
| battered him with right hand or left toward
the coop. But his patience gave way at
last Come, come he said. Here is my
true word. Act the proper, Tom, or my sis
ter herself will come on with the boy and
live in the house."
| "You know she can't said Ellery, in this
i one detail safe. mot in this house.
We'll, then, bedad right here across the
street."
Visions rose up in the Eliery mind. Even
the uninaginative dream, and Thomas Els
lery had nightmare in broad daylight Of d
loud-voiced slattern hailing him in the streets
and proclaiming herself asfhs witeathroughl
out the town; and Of a whimpering boy with
a dirty face following at his heels: The end
came and he skunk upstairs for his money
/ Then Brush waited complacently for his pay.
| ment but the scrawny hand withheld the
1 money, while Ellery made his last suspicious
inquiry: How do ! know you'll pay her2
How do know you've ever paid her what
gave you?''