The Boy Grew Older

the fence but he was still counting them. "I am drunk," he said to himself. "I am so drunk that nothing matters." But he knew that it was not so. Unfortunatel

took Peter's order. He set the glass on the table and then moved away no more than a step to begin his song. "When I'm a-a-lone I'm lonely," he thundered in Peter's ear, "when I'm a-a-lone

oo." One of them went up high and quavered. Others went elsewhere. There was a voice for every level. It was part singing. And they swayed back and forth from one foot to another. The room swayed with them but it

l. He shook his head vehemently. What did he care if the count was two and three, he was not going to lay it over. The curve was the trick. The outside corner was the nervy spot to shoot for. Drawing back his arm he flung the dollar and it c

serve God and mammon." That was the trouble. Art and utility should never meet. A fine tenor ought not to serve drinks and even indifferent singing seemed to spoil a man as a waiter. This theme had be

no reply but went out and up the street to the Eldorado. Eldorado! That was a land of which the Spaniards had dreamed, a land of

filled with couples. A long flight of steps led down to the tables. At the foot of the steps a girl sat alone. She was

sat

hink it's sort of a cold name, don't you? I'm not cold. People that li

mming name he had used in his Freshman year at Ha

enleaf Whittier

poet. Yes, I can s

tier's not my real name," he

ised that this girl of the Eldorado should know John

he said, "not to give me your real name.

eter, "I'm asha

re you

to get

nk together. I

rs now were dim and distant. The music was something which tinkled from down a long corridor. Even the obligation to drink seemed lighter. Peter merely sat and stared at Elaine. Gray-ey

looking at?"

ain

me called me Red. Why don't you c

e you

emed to have been set up against the potency of

e ashamed of me. I've had a good education. I can prove it to you. A

abou

if it wasn't for hard luck I wouldn't be in a place like this. I'm a

ick of many which the fate of the day had played him. With all the evil women of a great city to choose from it had been Peter's misfortune t

Peter," she said. "Come on. You're just a tired little bab

he said and did a silly imitation of the accent of the comedian in "The Joy Girls." But the

stairs at that moment and approached the table. "Red," he

, "I waited half an hour. I

one," said Peter.

knew that the code demanded that he s

said the newcomer. "What dam

-made answer for

d I'll make it my bu

onsibilities according to the code. "Come on outside," he repeated. He went slowly up the stairs but when he reached the sidewalk and turned around there was no Jim. Peter waited. He wanted very much to hit somebody

ently, "put up your hands an

d up on the sidewalk. The blow was not painful, but the swinging arc of all things visible was now longer than ever before. The lights, the lamp-posts and the buildings slowly turned end over end in a complete circle. Peter pu

ay. He could see the red head of the woman in the window. One week later he decided that he should have cupped his hands and shouted, "You hypotenuse hussy!" That night he could think of nothing. The fragments

h the fumes and left him clear-headed. Nothing was forgotten any more. He was able to compare the relative poignancy of two sorts o

, weren't you?"

id Peter,

entirely unsatisfactory. At least he had been able to taunt Fate into an overt act. He knew a poem by a man who wrote, "My head is bloody but unbowed." Peter had often used that line i

r something in the dark and fell with a bang. Kate w

cided not to stay out after all. I'm sorry I