Jerry Junior Read Online Free PDF

handful of silver, they broke into smiles; this at least was intelligible. The silver was distributed, the luggage was hoisted down, the omnibus was dismissed. The courtyard resumed its former quiet; just the American gentleman, Gustavo and the parrot were left.
    Then suddenly a frightful suspicion dawned upon Gustavo--it was more than a suspicion; it was an absolute certainty which in his excitement he had overlooked. From where had the American gentleman dropped? Not the sky, assuredly, and there was no place else possible, unless the door of the summer house. Yes, he had been in the summer house, and not sleeping either. An indefinable something about his manner informed Gustavo that he was privy to the entire conversation. Gustavo, a picture of guilty remorse, searched his memory for the words he had used. Why, oh why, had he not piled up adjectives? It was the opportunity of a lifetime and he had wantonly thrown it away.
    But--to his astonished relief--the young man appeared to be bearing no malice. He appeared, on the contrary, quite unusually cheerful as he sauntered whistling, across the court and seated himself in the exact chair the signorina had occupied. He plunged his hand into his pocket suggestively--Gustavo had been the only one omitted in the distribution of silver--and drew forth a roll of bills. Having selected five crisp five-lire notes, he placed them under the sugar bowl, and watched his companion while he blew three meditative rings of smoke.
    "Gustavo," he inquired, "do you suppose you could find me some nice, gentle, lady-like donkeys and a red sash and a pair of earrings?"
    Gustavo's fascinated gaze had been fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had only half caught the words.
    " Scusi , signore, I no understand."
    "Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the time. I can't be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my meaning."
    Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to humor the signore's mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be. For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement, daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned forward with shining eyes.
    " Si, si ," he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, "I will do it all; you may trust to me."
    The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him.
    " Dio mio ," he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, "zese Americans!"
    At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette.
    " Addio , Gustavo," he called over his shoulder, " don't forget the earrings!"
    CHAPTER IV
    The table was set on the terrace; breakfast was served and the company was gathered. Breakfast consisted of the usual caffè-latte, rolls and strained honey, and--since a journey was to the fore and something sustaining needed--a soft-boiled egg apiece. There were four persons present, though there should have been five. The two guests were an Englishman and his wife, whom the chances of travel had brought over night to Valedolmo.
    Between them, presiding over the coffee machine, was Mr. Wilder's sister, "Miss Hazel"--never "Miss Wilder" except to the butcher and baker. It was the cross of her life, she had always affirmed, that her name was not Mary or Jane or Rebecca. "Hazel" does well enough when one is eighteen and beautiful, but when one is fifty and no longer beautiful, it is little short of absurd. But if anyone at fifty could carry such a name gracefully, it was Miss Hazel Wilder; her fifty years sat as jauntily as Constance's twenty-two. This morning she was very business-like in her short skirt, belted jacket, and green felt Alpine hat with a feather in the side. No one would mistake her for a cyclist or a golfer or a