The Second Shot Read Online Free PDF Page B

innocent cause of them; I had of course ignored them completely, at the same time sending a smile to Miss Verity of private understanding.
    I may say here that my name is Pinkerton, Cyril Pinkerton, but Eric Scott-Davies insists, to my annoyance, in addressing and referring to me as Pinkie, even in the presence of complete strangers. He usually goes on to say that he does so out of compliment to my eyes, which he professes (quite untruthfully) to have red rims to them, thus turning the slight astigmatism from which I am unfortunate enough to suffer into a vulgar joke. A most ill-mannered, boorish fellow.
    It was useless for me to protest that I had no wish at all to go for a stroll with Eric, for grasping my arm firmly he drew me with him almost by force. I am not a man of large physique, nor have I ever considered it necessary to be so; but in the grasp of a loutish fellow such as Scott-Davies one has the misfortune of being helpless. To have struggled would have been worse than ineffective, it would have been undignified. I submitted, with a scornful little laugh, and allowed him to lead me through the little strip of front garden, down the steps, and along the grassy track which leads across the front of the house down the valley.
    As soon as we were out of sight and earshot of the others he released me, remarking at the same time in mocking tones: ‘Thought you’d rather I said it alone than in front of the others, Pinkie.’
    ‘Said what?’ I asked, breathing a trifle rapidly perhaps, for though I had scrupulously concealed it I was more than a little annoyed at having been manhandled in this way.
    ‘What I’ve got to say. And that is, keep off the grass!’ He thrust his hands in his pockets and literally towered over me. His big, rather sallow face above his white shirt front hung above me with a most irritating expression of amusement in which there was nevertheless as well more than a hint of menace.
    ‘I don’t understand you,’ I said impatiently. ‘If you’ve really anything to say, kindly say it in plain English.’
    ‘All right, little man,’ he grinned, ‘if you want it plain you shall have it plain: the next time you go for a walk with Elsa when I happen to want her, I’ll chuck you in the swimming pool – and you’ll be lucky to get off with that. Got me?’
    I admit it was foolish of me to be nettled. One should remember that Eric is a vulgar boor, and that the ordinary standards of civilized intercourse between gentlemen simply do not apply to him. Nevertheless there were so many things about this speech of his that I found offensive – the impertinence to myself, the calm use of Miss Verity’s Christian name, the still calmer assumption that he had a claim on her whenever he cared to exercise it, his presumption in daring to threaten me with actual physical violence – that I felt myself go hot with anger.
    Even so I kept, I hope, my dignity. ‘I think Eric,’ I said quietly, ‘that you must have had too much to drink.’
    He had the insolence to laugh. ‘Oh, Lord, you are funny when you’re cross, Pinkie. You look just like a white rabbit in – ’
    I had no wish to hear any more insults. I simply turned on my heel and began to walk back to the house.
    But the oaf had not finished. He caught me by the sleeve, and though still grinning the threat was still more obvious in his great round face. ‘Don’t imagine for a minute I’m not serious, Pinkie. I promise you I am. I’ve noticed you hanging round Elsa ever since we came, and you’ve got to stop it.’
    ‘Indeed?’ I said coldly, though perhaps it was a mistake to answer the fellow at all. ‘And by whose orders, may I ask?’
    ‘Certainly, old chap. Mine. Elsa was asked down here to meet me, not you; and that’s just what she’s going to do in future.’
    ‘I should prefer to hear that from Miss Verity’s lips,’ I replied shortly.
    ‘Oh, you could if you wanted to; you’ve only to ask her. And it’s about as