The Deaves Affair

"Quite so," said Evan dryly. "Look here," he went on, "I'd like to go with you to-day if I wouldn't be in the way. I mean, work my passage, of course; help take care of the kids, or amuse them, or feed them, or whatever may be necessary. My name's Evan Weir."

The other man looked Evan over and was pleased with what he saw.

"I'd be delighted to have you," he said. "We can always use more help. My name's Denton."

"Well, then, give me a job," said Evan.

"First of all, take my place for a moment," said Denton. "The ice-cream hasn't come. I must go and telephone."

"Sure thing!"

"You needn't be too strict about tickets," Denton added in an undertone. "I mean in respect to women and children. The main thing is to keep the bad and healthy little boys off."

"I get you," said Evan.

Denton hurried away. Evan took his place and the procession passed before him deprecatingly presenting its squares of red pasteboard. At first Evan scarcely took note of them, he was so busy with his private exultation. He had found her! And once they got away from the pier he would have her all day on the boat where she couldn't escape him. His luck had changed. For the present he kept his back turned to the Ernestina that he might not be unduly conspicuous to anyone happening to glance out of the cabin windows.

He was recalled to the business in hand by a plea: "Say, Mister! Let me and me brutter go, will yeh please? We had our tickets all right, but a big lad pasted us and took 'em offen us."

Evan looked down into a little angel face and clear shining eyes. The "brutter" waited warily in the background. Evan knew boys, and had no doubt but that this was a pair of incorrigibles, but he couldn't refuse anybody just then.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ikey O'Toole."

"Well, you are out of the melting-pot for sure!"

"No, sir; I live in Hester street."

"That's all a stall about losing your tickets," Evan said, trying to look stern. "But I'll let you go. I'm going too, see? And if there's any rough-housing you'll have me to deal with."

The surprised and jubilant urchins hurried aboard.

This incident was witnessed with visible indignation by two pale and solemn little girls who stood apart. They knew the bad little boys told a story if the gentleman didn't. Lost their tickets, indeed! During a lull Evan beckoned them. They came sidling over, each twisting a corner of her pinafore.

"Are you waiting for somebody?" he asked.

A shake of the head.

"Haven't you got any tickets?"

Another shake.

"Do you want to go anyway?"

An energetic pair of nods.

"What will your mother say?"

"Ain't got no mutter. Sister, she don't care. She works all day."

"All right. Skip on board."

Denton and the ice-cream arrived simultaneously. Shortly afterwards a warning whistle was blown. A small pandemonium of singing and delighted squealing was heard from the upper deck. Evan stuck close to Denton. They remained on the lower deck while the gangplank was drawn in and the ropes cast off. Meanwhile Evan was gathering what further information he could.

"How often do you make these trips?"

"Twice a week – Tuesdays and Saturdays."

"What is the Ozone Association? I never heard of it."

"I can't tell you much, though I work for them. I've always understood it was some rich man who wished to keep his name out of the thing. I was hired by a law firm to manage the trips, and the money comes to me through them."

"How did you get hold of all your helpers?"

"Oh, one way and another. Miss Playfair gets her friends to help."

When the Ernestina finally moved out into the stream, Denton remained below, attending to the stowage of the ice-cream and to other matters, and Evan stayed with him. To tell the truth, he dreaded a little to put his fortunes to the touch by venturing up above. They were unpacking sandwiches when Denton suddenly said:

"Here's Anway. Anway, here's a friend of yours."

Evan looked up with a wary smile. As it chanced, the busy Denton was called from another direction at that moment, and he did not see the actual meeting between the two. Evan had his back to the light and Anway did not instantly recognise him. Anway's expression graduated from expectancy at the sound of the word friend to blankness as he failed to recognise Evan, and to something like consternation when he did.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out.

"The same as yourself," replied Evan. "Only a volunteer."

Without another word Anway turned. Evan went with him. He had no intention of letting him warn Corinna. They mounted the main stairway side by side, Anway gazing stiffly ahead, Evan watching him with a grin.

As soon as they rounded into the saloon Evan saw Corinna, and his head swam a little. She was so very dear and desirable he forgot how badly she had used him. She was kneeling on the carpet, feeding a hungry baby with cup and spoon. The baby sat in the lap of a woman so spent and done, she could do no more than keep the infant from slipping off. It was an appealing sight. In such an attitude Corinna was all woman, her face as tender as a saint's. Evan laid a restraining hand on Anway's arm.

"Let the kid have his meal anyway," he whispered.

But some current of electricity warned Corinna. Looking up, she saw Evan at a dozen paces' distance. Evan trembled for the cup. It was not dropped. Corinna had herself better in hand than Anway. No muscle of her face changed; only the light of her eyes hardened.

"She thinks you brought me aboard," murmured Evan wickedly.

Anway flushed.

Corinna resumed her feeding of the baby.

Evan was divided between admiration and chagrin. Secretly he had counted on his appearance creating a more dramatic effect than this.

Anway hung around in a miserable state of indecision. If Evan had only given him an excuse to punch him he would have been glad no doubt. Finally he said:

"You see what she's doing. Come away and let her be."

Evan good-humouredly shook his head. "The sight gives me too much pleasure," he said. "But don't let me keep you."