A Knight of the Nineteenth Century - Page 51/318

When the time of departure approached, Mr. Van Wink went to the bar and paid both their own and Haldane's bill, saying that they would now vacate the room. On his return Ketchem had so far aroused Haldane that he was able to leave the house with their assistance, and yet so intoxicated as to be incapable of thinking and acting for himself. They took him down a side street, now utterly deserted, and left him on the steps of a low groggery, from whence still issued the voices of some late revellers. Five minutes later the "owl train" bore from the town Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, who might be called with a certain aptness birds of the night and of prey.

Haldane remained upon the saloon steps, where he had been left, blinking stupidly at a distant street lamp. He had a vague impression that something was wrong--that a misfortune of some kind had befallen him, but all was confused and blurred. He would have soon gone to sleep again had not the door opened, and a man emerged, who exclaimed: "Faix, an who have we here, noddin' to himself as if he knew more'n other folk? Are ye waitin' for some un to ax ye within for a comfortin' dhrop?"

"Take me 'ome," mumbled Haldane.

"Where's yer home?"

"Mrs. Haldane's," answered the youth, thinking himself in his native town.

"By me sowl, if it isn't Boss Arnot's new clerk. Sure's me name is Pat M'Cabe 'tis Misther Haldane. I say, are ye sick?"

"Take me 'ome."

"Faix, I see," winking at two or three of his cronies who had gathered at the open door; "it's a disase I'm taken wid meself at odd spells, though I takes moighty good care to kape out o' the way of ould man Arnot when I'm so afflicted. He has a quare way o' thinkin' that ivery man about him can go as rigaler as if made in a mash-shine shop, bad luck till 'im."

Perhaps all in Mr. Arnot's employ would have echoed this sentiment, could the ill luck have blighted him without reaching them. In working his employes as he did his machinery, Mr. Arnot forgot that the latter was often oiled, but that he entirely neglected to lubricate the wills of the former with occasional expressions of kindness and interest in their welfare. Thus it came to pass that even down to poor Pat M'Cabe, man of all work around the office building, all felt that their employer was a hard, driving taskmaster, who ever looked beyond them and their interests to what they accomplished for him. The spirit of the master infused itself among the men, and the tendency of each one to look out for himself without regard to others was increased. If Pat had served a kinder and more considerate man, he might have been inclined to show greater consideration for the intoxicated youth; but Pat's favorite phrase, "Divil take the hindmost," was but a fair expression of the spirit which animated his master, and the majority in his employ. When, therefore, Haldane, in his thick, imperfect utterance, again said, "Take me 'ome," Pat concluded that it would be the best and safest course for himself. Helping the young man to his feet he said: "Can ye walk? Mighty onstiddy on yer pins; but I'm athinkin' I can get ye to the big house afore mornin'. Should I kape ye out o' the way till ye get sober, and ould man Arnot find it out, I'd be in the street meself widout a job 'fore he ate his dinner. Stiddy now; lean aginst me, and don't wabble yer legs so."