What is it about him, anyway?"
He either could not or did not conceal that he awaited a reply with
eagerness.
"I wish I knew." Jimmy spoke with the utmost sincerity. "Folks whisper
and shake their heads, but there's nothing to lay a finger on. I've
tried to pump Mrs. Gallito more than once, but if she knows anything she
keeps it dark. She's afraid of me, anyway. She always says: 'Oh, Jimmy,
you're such a gossip!' Me!" He was really injured. "I guess if everybody
did as little gossiping as I do this world would be a heap sight better
place."
"Sure," agreed Hanson cordially; and this time his smile was genuinely
expressive of his thankful and undisguised relief. By what seemed to him
an almost incredible piece of good luck, considering the mutual
predilection of Mrs. Gallito and Jimmy for gossip, his secret was still
intact.
He straightened up involuntarily, and stood a moment deep in thought,
his unseeing gaze fixed on a row of bottles on a shelf behind Jimmy. He
picked up an apple which Jimmy had left on the bar and turned it around
in his hands, apparently considering the effect of its scarlet stripes
on a green surface. Then he threw back his shoulders and laughed aloud.
"Bill Jones left a peckful of luscious apples in ye editorial sanctum
to-day," he said gaily. "Come again, Bill," and laying the fruit down,
turned away, Jimmy's delighted chuckles following him to the door and
beyond.
Outside, he hesitated a moment, and then turned in the direction of the
little railroad station.
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