It’s the worst vice I’ve got–from my standpoint, anyway,
because it’s the one he can most easily find out, through the impatience
of my creditors. He thought it expensive to have to pay two hundred
dollars to them for me once. Expensive–_that!_ Why, it cost me
the whole of his fortune–but, of course, he never thought of that;
some people can’t think of any but their own side of a case.
If he had known how deep I am in now, the will would have gone to pot
without waiting for a duel to help. Three hundred dollars!
It’s a pile! But he’ll never hear of it, I’m thankful to say.
The minute I’ve cleared it off, I’m safe; and I’ll never touch
a card again. Anyway, I won’t while he lives, I make oath to that.
I’m entering on my last reform–I know it–yes, and I’ll win;
but after that, if I ever slip again I’m gone.”
CHAPTER 13
Tom Stares at Ruin
When I reflect upon the number of disagreeable people who I know
have gone to a better world, I am moved to lead a different life.
–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar
October. This is one of the peculiarly dangerous months to speculate
in stocks in. The others are July, January, September, April,
November, May, March, June, December, August, and February.
–Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar
Thus mournfully communing with himself, Tom moped along the lane past
Pudd’nhead Wilson’s house, and still on and on between fences enclosing
vacant country on each hand till he neared the haunted house,
then he came moping back again, with many sighs and heavy with trouble.
He sorely wanted cheerful company. Rowena! His heart gave a bound
at the thought, but the next thought quieted it–the detested twins
would be there.
He was on the inhabited side of Wilson’s house, and now as
he approached it, he noticed that the sitting room was lighted.
This would do; others made him feel unwelcome sometimes, but Wilson
never failed in courtesy toward him, and a kindly courtesy does at least
save one’s feelings, even if it is not professing to stand for a welcome.
Wilson heard footsteps at his threshold, then the clearing of a throat.
“It’s that fickle-tempered, dissipated young goose–poor devil,
he find friends pretty scarce today, likely, after the disgrace of
carrying a personal assault case into a law-court.”
A dejected knock. “Come in!”
Tom entered, and dropped into a chair, without saying anything.
Wilson said kindly:
“Why, my boy, you look desolate. Don’t take it so hard.
Try and forget you have been kicked.”
“Oh, dear,” said Tom, wretchedly, “it’s not that, Pudd’nhead–
it’s not that.. It’s a thousand times worse than that–oh, yes,
a million times worse.”
“Why, Tom, what do you mean? Has Rowena–”
“Flung me? _No_, but the old man has.”
Wilson said to himself, “Aha!” and thought of the mysterious girl
in the bedroom. “The Driscolls have been making discoveries!”
Then he said aloud, gravely:
“Tom, there are some kinds of dissipation which–”
“Oh, shucks, this hasn’t got anything to do with dissipation.
He wanted me to challenge that derned Italian savage,
and I wouldn’t do it.”
“Yes, of course he would do that,” said Wilson in a meditative
matter-of-course way, “but the thing that puzzled me was,
why he didn’t look to that last night, for one thing,
and why he let you carry such a matter into a court of law at all,
either before the duel or after it. It’s no place for it.
It was not like him. I couldn’t understand it. How did it happen?”
“It happened because he didn’t know anything about it. He
was asleep when I got home last night.”
“And you didn’t wake him? Tom, is that possible?”
Tom was not getting much comfort here. He fidgeted a moment, then said:
“I didn’t choose to tell him–that’s all. He was going a-fishing
before dawn, with Pembroke Howard, and if I got the twins into
the common calaboose–and I thought sure I could–I never dreamed
of their slipping out on a paltry fine for such an outrageous offense–
well, once in the calaboose they would be disgraced, and uncle wouldn’t
want any duels with that sort of characters, and wouldn’t allow any.