U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [219]
though he'd often served them before, and they were dis-gruntedly on their way down Washington Street to an-other bar when a boy ran past with an extra in four inch black type HUGHES ELECTED. "Hurray," yel ed Ned. Dick put his hand over his mouth and they wrestled there in the street while a hostile group of men gathered around them. Dick could hear the flat unfriendly voices, "Col ege boys . . . Harvard men." His hat fel off. Ned let go his hold to let him pick it up. A cop was elbowing his way through toward them. They both straightened up and
walked off soberly, their faces red. "It's al blahblahblah-blah," whispered Ned under his breath. They walked along toward Scol ay Square. Dick was sore.
He didn't like the looks of the crowd around Scol ay Square either and wanted to go home to Cambridge, but Ned struck up a conversation with a thuggylooking indi-vidual and a sailor whose legs were weaving. "Say, Chub, let's take 'em along to Mother Bly's," said the thuggylook-ing individual, poking the sailor in the ribs with his elbow.
"Take it easy now, fel er, take it easy," the sailor kept muttering unsteadily.
"Go anywhere they don't have al this blahblahblah-blah," Ned was shouting, seesawing from one foot to the other. "Say, Ned, you're drunk, come along back to Cam-bridge," Dick whined desperately in his ear and tugged
-93-at his arm, "They want to get you drunk and take your money."
"Can't get me drunk, I am drunk . . . blahblahblah-blah," whinnied Ned and took the sailor's white cap and put it on his head instead of his own hat.
"Wel , do what you damn please, I'm going." Dick let go Ned's arm suddenly and walked away as fast as he could. He walked along across Beacon Hil , his ears ring-ing, his head hot and thumping. He walked al the way to Cambridge and got to his room shivering and tired, on the edge of crying. He went to bed but he couldn't sleep and lay there al night cold and miserable even after he'd piled the rug on top of the blankets, listening for every sound in the street.
In the morning he got up with a headache and a sour burntout feeling al through him. He was having some coffee and a toasted rol at the counter under the Lampoon Building when Ned came in looking fresh and rosy with his mouth al twisted up in a smile, "Wel , my young po-litico, Professor Wilson was elected and we've missed out on the sabre and epaulettes." Dick grunted and went on eating. "I was worried about you," went on Ned airily,
"where did you disappear to?""What do you think I did? I went home and went to bed," snapped Dick. "That Barney turned out to be a very amusing fel ow, a boxing instructor, if he didn't have a weak heart he'd be welter-weight champion of New England. We ended up in a Turkish Bath . . . a most curious place." Dick felt like smashing him in the face.
"I've got a lab period," he said hoarsely and walked out of the lunchcounter. It was dusk before he went back to Ridgely. There was somebody in the room. It was Ned moving about the room in the blue dusk. " Dick," he began to mumble as soon as the door closed behind him, "never be sore." He stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets sway-ing. "Never be sore, Dick, at things fel ows do when
-94-they're drunk. . . . Never be sore at anything fel ows do. Be a good fel ow and make me a cup of tea." Dick fil ed the kettle and lit the alcohol flame under it. "Fel ow has to do lotta damn fool things, Dick."
"But people like that . . . picking up a sailor in Scol-lay Square . . . so damn risky," he said weakly. Ned swung around towards him laughing easily and
happily, "And you always told me I was a damn Backbay snob." Dick didn't answer. He had dropped into the chair be-side the table. He wasn't sore any more. He was trying to keep from crying. Ned had lain down on the couch and was lifting first one leg and then the other above his head. Dick sat staring at the blue alcohol flame of the lamp lis-tening to the purring of the teakettle until the last dusk faded to darkness and ashy light from the street began to filter