Go to Kennedy, fling yourself on his chest, and
say, 'We have done those things which we ought not to have done--' No.
As you were! Compn'y, 'shun! Say 'J. Silver says that I am a rotter. I
am a worm. I have made an ass of myself. But I will be good. Shake,
pard!' That's what you've got to do. Come in."
And in had come Kennedy. The attractions of Kay's were small, and he
usually looked in on Jimmy Silver in the afternoons.
"Oh, sorry," he said, as he saw Fenn. "I thought you were alone,
Jimmy."
"I was just going," said Fenn, politely.
"Oh, don't let me disturb you," protested Kennedy, with winning
courtesy.
"Not at all," said Fenn.
"Oh, if you really were--"
"Oh, yes, really."
"Get out, then," growled Jimmy, who had been listening in speechless
disgust to the beautifully polite conversation just recorded. "I'll
forward that bronze medal to you, Fenn."
And as the door closed he had turned to rend Kennedy as he had rent
Fenn; while Fenn walked back to Kay's feeling that there was a good
deal in what Jimmy had said.
So that when he went down town that afternoon in search of his cap, he
pondered as he walked over the advisability of making a fresh start.
It would not be a bad idea. But first he must concentrate his energies
on recovering what he had lost.
He found the house in the High Street without a great deal of
difficulty, for he had marked the spot carefully as far as that had
been possible in the fog.
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