Page:Cup of Gold-1929.djvu/115

wearily, as men in sickness watch flies crawling on the ceiling.

One street seemed to have no inhabitants save only women—black women, and white, and gray women, with fever written on their hollow cheeks. They leaned from their balconies like unclean sirens and softly called as he went by. Then, when he paid no attention to them, they shrieked like angry parrots and screamed curses and spat after him.

Near the waterfront he came to a kind of tavern with a great crowd gathered in front of it. Standing in the center of the way was a cask of wine with its head staved in, and a big, drunken man in crazy laces and a plumed hat strutted beside it. He passed out cups and basins and even hats full of wine to the reaching men. Now and then he called for a toast and a cheer, and his crowd screamed its acclaim.

Young Henry sought to pass them in his misery.

“Come drink my health, young man.”

“I do not wish to drink,” said Henry.

“You do not wish to drink?” The big man was overwhelmed with this new situation. Then he recovered his wrath.

“By God! you will so drink when Captain Dawes that took the supply ship ‘Sangre de Cristo’ this day week asks you.” The lowering man came close, then suddenly drew a great pistol from his belt and pointed it waveringly at Henry's breast.

The boy eyed the pistol.

“I will drink your health,” he said. And while he drank, an idea came to him, “Let me speak to