"You're Jerry Mitchell. I saw you
fight Kid Burke four years ago in London."
The grin returned to the pugilist's face, wider than ever. He
beamed with gratification.
"Gee! Think of that! I've quit since then. I'm working for an old
guy named Pett. Funny thing, he's Jimmy Crocker's uncle that I
mistook you for. Say, you're a dead ringer for that guy! I could
have sworn it was him when you bumped into me. Say, are you doing
anything?"
"Nothing in particular."
"Come and have a yarn. There's a place I know just round by
here."
"Delighted."
They made their way to the place.
"What's yours?" said Jerry Mitchell. "I'm on the wagon myself,"
he said apologetically.
"So am I," said Jimmy. "It's the only way. No sense in always
drinking and making a disgraceful exhibition of yourself in
public!"
Jerry Mitchell received this homily in silence. It disposed
definitely of the lurking doubt in his mind as to the possibility
of this man really being Jimmy Crocker. Though outwardly
convinced by the other's denial, he had not been able to rid
himself till now of a nebulous suspicion. But this convinced him.
Jimmy Crocker would never have said a thing like that nor would
have refused the offer of alcohol. He fell into pleasant
conversation with him. His mind eased.
CHAPTER IX
MRS. PETT IS SHOCKED
At five o'clock in the afternoon some ten days after her return
to America, Mrs.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145