"I'll go with them."
"I shall also go with my child," said the mother. "James, you will go
too."
But Breede had acted without waiting to talk.
"Other car'll be here, 'n' I telephoned for quarters on boat. 'S full
up, but they'll manage. Chap might cut her throat."
"U-u-u-mm!" said the Demon.
"Half pas' ten," reminded Breede. "Hurry!"
Bean had accosted the waster.
"Always take fumed eggs for breakfast," he cautioned. "Of course, little
fruit an' tea an' things."
"Your father's had a sudden call to Paris. We're going with him," said
the Demon, appearing bonneted.
"What boat?" demanded the flapper in quick alarm.
"Your's," said the Demon.
"Jolly party, all together," said Bean cordially. "He coming, too?" He
pointed to the old gentleman, but this it seemed had not been thought
of.
"He better come too," insisted Bean. "I'm his young friend, and this is
indeed a happy moment. Jus' little ol' las' year's steamer."
"You're tagging," accused the flapper viciously, turning to the Demon.
* * * * *
Bean awoke late that night, believing he was dead--that he had fallen in
sleep and been laid unto his fathers. But the narrow grave was unstable.
It heaved and rolled as if to expel him.
Slowly he remembered. First he identified his present location. He was
in an upper berth of that little old steamer. Outside a little round
window was the whole big ocean and beneath him slept a man from
Hartford, Conn.
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