Reginald Wright Kauffman

“ Grogan remained silent; like a true genius, he knew that he had done a perfect thing, and, having done it, he would add nothing and take nothing away; he would stand or fall by his own judgment.
Mr. Anthony was silent, too. He sat looking in Lefty's direction, but his glance went beyond Lefty. ”

“ It's huckst'rin' for yours, Grogan.”
Something like a smile twisted Lefty's lips.
“For half an hour,” he said, “that's just what I been tryin' to tell you I was goin' to do to-night.”
“Back to huckst'rin'?” Mrs. Grogan's voice was so large that it filled all the space that their two big bodies left in the little room. “I didn't know you had that much sense!”
“Huckst'rin'? Not on your life!” said Grogan, with the scorn that every man who rises in the world has for the business on the shoulders of which he has risen to a more respected business. ”

“ Molly, however, was finding her imagination too severely tried. In spite of the faint interest that Lefty had awakened in her, she could not long see kitchens in a spoon and drawing-rooms in forks. She yawned heavily and rose.
“You talk too much with your mouth, Grogan,” she said. “That's what's the matter with you. What you want to do's to do somethin'. I'll believe you when you come back here with the goods.”
Grogan rose also. He went to the cupboard, and, from behind the largest dish on the top shelf, drew forth a jimmy, a glass cutter, a revolver, and an electric torch. ”

“ Tell me that, if you can.”
“I ain't a burglar,” Lefty protested. “At least not by trade nor regular I ain't.” His mind went back to Molly's forcible advice and criticisms—oh, if only he had harkened to those criticisms and followed that advice!—and his accusing memory ran swiftly from his successes as a huckster through the long series of failures that formed the brief chronicle of his more criminal career. “I'm the unluckiest, poorest, bummest sort of a burglar that ever tried the game!” he genuinely sobbed.
Something that looked like amazement passed over young Anthony's face. ”

“ Anthony smiled again.
“I dare say that was a rather unnecessary inquiry,” he admitted. “The only important question just now is whether I ought to wake the governor and the servants before I telephone for the police.”
The police! Of course, Lefty had at once known that, barring the lucky chance of some careless opening to “rush” his captor, it was all over with him; but this mention of the police somehow made his plight finally vivid. It was patent enough to stir his turgid imagination. ”

“ Under the weight of his message, Lefty's voice fell to a croaking whisper.
“It's the Anthony house,” he said.
“Sounds like a hotel. You wouldn't be tryin' to rob a whole hotel, would you, Grogan?”
“You women!” said Grogan. “You make me tired. you women do! Why don't you read the papers?”
“Because we're too busy darnin' our husbands' socks. That's why.”
“You ought to know who Anthony is, anyway—C. N. Anthony—Charley Anthony, the Western guy that made ten millions in copper, an' 's just come East to the big town to spend it. They say his wife's got a million in jewels—an' she don't bank 'em ”

“ He's got only the regular lot of servants. I found that out,” said Lefty, with a gleam of professional pride, “by buyin' a drink for the cook.”
“What?” cried Mrs. Grogan. She lowered her head as if she were about to charge across the table at her husband. 'Buyin' drinks for ladies, are you? I see now why you like the burgl'in' business!”
“Aw, shut up, Molly! The cook's a man, an' only a French one at that.”
“P'ff!” said Mrs. Grogan.
“That's straight, Molly.”
“Well, then, I'll bet this copper fellow has the place filled full of burglar alarms.” ”

“ The drawin'-room, Now——”
“Is he an artist, too, this fellow Anthony
“No. A drawin'-room,” explained the scornful Lefty, “is a swell guy's wife's parlor. Gimme another fork, will you? That's it. This here fork's the drawin'-room, an' right here——”
Mrs. Grogan's gaze left the diagram, and wandered about her own kitchen.
“Drawin'-room,” she said. “An' look at this! If we'd stuck to huckst'rin' I might 'a' had a drawin'-room myself by now. How many people live in the Anthony joint?” ”

“ How'd you expect me to keep house an' bring up a family when my man's no better at his job than you are?”
“But, Molly——”
“I said for you to listen to me a minute——”
“The kids——” Lefty's shifty eyes glanced toward the door leading to the two rooms that completed the Grogans' suite of apartments.
“They're sound asleep,” Molly assured him, “an' couldn't hear with the door closed if they wasn't. I want to have my say, an' it's this: If you can't do better'n you been doin', you better trot down to city hall an' renew your huckst'rin' license. ”

“ Lefty had never heard of the association referred to, but he drew himself up with quick dignity.
“I couldn't bring myself to beg,” said he.
This time Anthony chuckled outright.
“Oh, well,” he said, “there's no accounting for tastes, is there?” He paused a moment, and then looked more serious. “Married?” he inquired.
“That's it!” said Grogan eagerly. “I'm a married man, an' I got four kids. They're the prettiest little curly-headed tots you ever seen, they are ”

“ That fresh teacher sent home a note to-day that Genevieve's feet was near barefooted; little Jimmy's pants has so many patches in their patches that I'm 'most ashamed to send him to school. We used to buy extra-fresh eggs ”