It wasn't going to be so bad.
He hauled Ram-tah out of the closet and stood him at the foot of the bed
for the night, so that courage might come to him as he slept. The plan
proved to be an excellent one after Nap grew quiet. Nap had always been
excited in Ram-tah's immediate presence, and now he insisted upon
sniffing about the royal cadaver in a manner atrociously suggestive.
Being dissuaded from this and consenting to sleep, Bean sank into dreams
of mastery beneath Ram-tah's lofty aspect.
He awoke with a giant's strength. He arrayed himself in the newest check
suit, and an especially beautiful shirt with a lavender stripe that bore
his embroidered initials on one sleeve. He thought he would like to face
them in his shirtsleeves, and give Breede and the fussy old gentlemen a
good look at that lettered arm. He was almost persuaded to don the
entirely red cravat, let the consequences be what they might. His
refreshed spirit was equal to this audacity--but the red car. Wearing a
red cravat in a very red car was just a little _too_ loud--"different"
enough, to be sure, but hardly "dignified." Too advanced, in short. At
eight o'clock he went out upon the world, grasping his yellow stick and
gloves. Most heroically would he enter the office with stick and gloves.
Make Bulger stare! And if they put him in jail he must look
right--papers get his picture, of course!
[Illustration: Thereafter, until late at night, the red car was trailed
by the taxi-cab]
On the curb, before the car that vibrated so excitingly he had a happy
thought.
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