He went to one of the telegraph offices in the avenue and got the first
end of what Barrow called the “usual Washington courtesy,” where “they
treat you as a tramp until they find out you’re a congressman, and then
they slobber all over you.” There was a boy of seventeen on duty there,
tying his shoe. He had his foot on a chair and his back turned towards
the wicket. He glanced over his shoulder, took Tracy’s measure, turned
back, and went on tying his shoe. Tracy finished writing his telegram
and waited, still waited, and still waited, for that performance to
finish, but there didn’t seem to be any finish to it; so finally Tracy
said:
“Can’t you take my telegram?”
The youth looked over his shoulder and said, by his manner, not his
words:
“Don’t you think you could wait a minute, if you tried?”
However, he got the shoe tied at last, and came and took the telegram,
glanced over it, then looked up surprised, at Tracy. There was something
in his look that bordered upon respect, almost reverence, it seemed to
Tracy, although he had been so long without anything of this kind he was
not sure that he knew the signs of it.
The boy read the address aloud, with pleased expression in face and
voice.
“The Earl of Rossmore! Cracky! Do you know him?”
“Yes.”
“Is that so! Does he know you?”
“Well–yes.”
“Well, I swear! Will he answer you?”
“I think he will.”
“Will he though? Where’ll you have it sent?”
“Oh, nowhere. I’ll call here and get it. When shall I call?”
“Oh, I don’t know–I’ll send it to you. Where shall I send it? Give me
your address; I’ll send it to you soon’s it comes.”
But Tracy didn’t propose to do this. He had acquired the boy’s
admiration and deferential respect, and he wasn’t willing to throw these
precious things away, a result sure to follow if he should give the
address of that boarding house. So he said again that he would call and
get the telegram, and went his way.
He idled along, reflecting. He said to himself, “There is something
pleasant about being respected. I have acquired the respect of Mr.
Allen and some of those others, and almost the deference of some of them
on pure merit, for having thrashed Allen. While their respect and their
deference–if it is deference–is pleasant, a deference based upon a
sham, a shadow, does really seem pleasanter still. It’s no real merit to
be in correspondence with an earl, and yet after all, that boy makes me
feel as if there was.”
The cablegram was actually gone home! the thought of it gave him an
immense uplift. He walked with a lighter tread. His heart was full of
happiness. He threw aside all hesitances and confessed to himself that
he was glad through and through that he was going to give up this
experiment and go back to his home again. His eagerness to get his
father’s answer began to grow, now, and it grew with marvelous celerity,
after it began. He waited an hour, walking about, putting in his time as
well as he could, but interested in nothing that came under his eye, and
at last he presented himself at the office again and asked if any answer
had come yet. The boy said,
“No, no answer yet,” then glanced at the clock and added, “I don’t think
it’s likely you’ll get one to-day.”
“Why not?”
“Well, you see it’s getting pretty late. You can’t always tell where
’bouts a man is when he’s on the other side, and you can’t always find
him just the minute you want him, and you see it’s getting about six
o’clock now, and over there it’s pretty late at night.”
“Why yes,” said Tracy, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Yes, pretty late, now, half past ten or eleven. Oh yes, you probably
won’t get any answer to-night.”
CHAPTER XIV.
So Tracy went home to supper. The odors in that supper room seemed more
strenuous and more horrible than ever before, and he was happy in the
thought that he was so soon to be free from them again. When the supper