back alley, he went to the reception himself, and added several
of the valuables of that house to his takings.
After this long digression we have now arrived once more at the point
where Pudd’nhead Wilson, while waiting for the arrival of the twins
on that same Friday evening, sat puzzling over the strange apparition
of that morning–a girl in young Tom Driscoll’s bedroom; fretting,
and guessing, and puzzling over it, and wondering who the shameless
creature might be.
CHAPTER 11
Pudd’nhead’s Thrilling Discovery
There are three infallible ways of pleasing an author, and the three
form a rising scale of compliment: 1–to tell him you have read one
of his books; 2–to tell him you have read all of his books;
3–to ask him to let you read the manuscript of his forthcoming book.
No. 1 admits you to his respect; No. 2 admits you to his admiration;
No. 3 carries you clear into his heart.
–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar
As to the Adjective: when in doubt, strike it out.
–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar
The twins arrived presently, and talk began. It flowed along
chattily and sociably, and under its influence the new friendship
gathered ease and strength. Wilson got out his Calendar, by request,
and read a passage or two from it, which the twins praised quite cordially.
This pleased the author so much that he complied gladly when the asked
him to lend them a batch of the work to read at home. In the course of
their wide travels, they had found out that there are three sure ways of
pleasing an author; they were now working the best of the three.
There was an interruption now. Young Driscoll appeared, and joined
the party. He pretended to be seeing the distinguished strangers for
the first time when they rose to shake hands; but this was only a blind,
as he had already had a glimpse of them, at the reception, while robbing
the house. The twins made mental note that he was smooth-faced and
rather handsome, and smooth and undulatory in his movements–graceful,
in fact. Angelo thought he had a good eye; Luigi thought there was
something veiled and sly about it. Angelo thought he had a pleasant
free-and-easy way of talking; Luigi thought it was more so than was agreeable.
Angelo thought he was a sufficiently nice young man; Luigi reserved
his decision. Tom’s first contribution to the conversation was a
question which he had put to Wilson a hundred times before.
It was always cheerily and good-natured put, and always inflicted a
little pang, for it touched a secret sore; but this time the pang
was sharp, since strangers were present.
“Well, how does the law come on? Had a case yet?”
Wilson bit his lip, but answered, “No–not yet,” with as much
indifference as he could assume. Judge Driscoll had generously left
the law feature out of Wilson’s biography which he had furnished
to the twins. Young Tom laughed pleasantly, and said:
“Wilson’s a lawyer, gentlemen, but he doesn’t practice now.”
The sarcasm bit, but Wilson kept himself under control,
and said without passion:
“I don’t practice, it is true. It is true that I have never had a case,
and have had to earn a poor living for twenty years as an expert
accountant in a town where I can’t get a hold of a set of books to
untangle as often as I should like. But it is also true that I did
myself well for the practice of the law. By the time I was your age,
Tom, I had chosen a profession, and was soon competent to enter upon it.”
Tom winced. “I never got a chance to try my hand at it, and I may
never get a chance; and yet if I ever do get it, I shall be found ready,
for I have kept up my law studies all these years.”
“That’s it; that’s good grit! I like to see it. I’ve a notion to throw
all my business your way. My business and your law practice ought to
make a pretty gay team, Dave,” and the young fellow laughed again.
“If you will throw–” Wilson had thought of the girl in Tom’s bedroom,