hr.thecarpetbaggers-第133部分

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　He　turned　back　to　the　crowd。　〃I　propose　we　settle　this　here　and　now；〃　he　shouted。　〃You　have　a　choice。　Ten　men　go　back　to　work　or　you　strike。〃
　〃Wait　a　minute；〃　Tom　protested。
　〃The　men　already　turned　your　proposal　down；〃　Riordan　snapped。　He　raised　his　right　hand。　〃All　in　favor　of　returning　to　work　raise　your　right　hand。〃
　About　ninety　men　raised　their　hands。
　〃Nays？〃
　There　were　only　a　few　raised　hands　besides　Tom's。
　〃The　ayes　have　it。　Now　you　men　go　home　to　your　wives。　I'll　let　you　know　on　Monday　which　of　you　go　back　to　work。〃
　Slowly　the　men　began　to　file　out　of　the　room。　Tom　looked　at　Riordan　but　the　man　didn't　meet　his　eyes。　Instead；　he　went　back　into　his　little　glass　cubbyhole　and　picked　up　the　telephone。
　Tom　walked　wearily　toward　the　door。　Some　of　the　men　looked　at　him；　then　quickly　hurried　by；　as　if　they　were　ashamed　to　meet　his　gaze。　At　the　doorway；　he　turned　and　looked　back。　Riordan　was　still　using　the　telephone。
　The　night　was　clear　and　bright　and　a　warm　breeze　came　in　from　the　bay。　He　walked　along　thoughtfully。　He　wasn't　going　to　be　one　of　the　lucky　ten　who　were　going　to　be　taken　back。　He　was　sure　of　that。　He'd　seen　the　anger　in　Riordan's　eyes。　He　turned　the　corner　and　walked　to　the　car　stop　on　the　next　block。　Idly　he　wondered　if　his　pass　was　still　good　now　that　he　was　laid　off。
　Two　men　came　past　him　on　the　darkened　street。　One　of　them　stopped。　〃Got　a　match？〃
　〃Sure；〃　Tom　said。　He　fumbled　in　his　pocket。　He　might　not　have　a　job　but　matches　he　still　had。　He　struck　the　match。　The　sudden　hardening　in　the　man's　eyes　and　the　sound　of　footsteps　behind　him　were　a　warning　that　came　too　late。　There　was　a　sharp　blow　to　the　back　of　his　head　and　he　stumbled　to　his　knees。
　He　reached　out；　grabbing　the　man　in　front　of　him　around　the　legs。　The　man　swore　under　his　breath　and　kicked　upward　with　his　knee；　catching　Tom　in　the　groin。
　Tom　grunted　from　the　pain　as　he　went　over　backward；　his　head　striking　the　sidewalk。　As　if　from　a　long　way　off；　he　felt　the　men　kicking　at　him　as　he　lay　there。　He　rolled　over　toward　the　edge　of　the　sidewalk　and　into　the　gutter。
　He　felt　a　hand　reach　into　his　pocket　and　take　out　his　pay　envelope。　Feebly　he　tried　to　grab　the　hand。　〃No；〃　he　pleaded。　〃Please；　no；　that's　my　pay；　it's　all　I　got！〃
　The　man　laughed　harshly。　He　aimed　a　final　kick　at　the　side　of　Tom's　head。
　Tom　saw　the　heavy　boot　ing　but　he　couldn't　duck　away　from　it。　Then　the　lights　exploded　in　his　face　and　he　rolled　over；　face　down；　in　a　puddle　of　water　in　the　gutter。　He　came　to　slowly；　painfully；　to　the　sound　of　water　against　his　face。　He　moved　his　head　wearily。　A　gentle　rain　had　begun　to　fall。
　His　body　ached　as　he　pushed　himself　up　on　his　hands　and　slowly　got　to　his　feet。　He　swayed　dizzily　for　a　moment　and　reached　out　to　the　street　lamp　to　steady　himself。　The　lamp　flickered　and　then　went　out。　It　was　almost　morning。　The　sick　gray　light　of　the　day　spilled　down　around　him。
　He　saw　his　blue　conductor's　cap　lying　in　the　gutter；　not　far　from　where　he　stood。　Slowly　he　knelt　and　picked　it　up。　He　brushed　it　off　against　his　coat　and　walked　toward　the　corner。　There　was　a　mirror　in　the　corner　of　the　drugstore　window。　He　paused　in　front　of　it　and　looked　at　himself。
　His　uniform　was　torn　and　shredded；　his　tie　askew；　the　shirt　buttons　ripped　away。　He　put　his　hand　up　to　his　face　in　touching　wonder。　His　nose　was　puffed　and　swollen；　and　one　eye　had　already　turned　purple。　With　the　tip　of　his　tongue；　he　could　feel　the　jagged　edges　of　broken　teeth。
　He　stared　for　a　moment；　numb　with　shock；　then　he　began　to　understand　what　had　happened　to　him。　Riordan　had　done　it。　He　was　sure　of　that。　That's　why　Riordan　had　been　on　the　telephone　when　he'd　left　the　union　hall。
　Suddenly；　he　realized　he'd　never　be　able　to　go　back　to　work　for　the　cable…car　pany。　Riordan　would　see　to　that；　too。　He　stood　there　looking　at　himself　and　the　tears　began　to　run　down　his　cheeks。　Everything　had　gone　wrong。　Everything。　Now　he　had　no　job　and　no　money。　And　worst　of　all；　he'd　have　to　tell　Ellen。
　She'd　never　believe　he　hadn't　been　out　on　a　drunk；　and　the　ironic　thing　was　that　he　hadn't　so　much　as　taken　one　glass　of　beer。
　
　4
　
　〃ARE　YE　GOIN'　TO　BE　SITTIN'　THERE　ALL　DAY　READING　THE　NEWSPAPERS；　STUDYIN'　WHAT　KIND　OF　A　JOB　WOULD　SUIT　YOUR　HIGHNESS　BEST？〃　ELLEN　DENTON　ASKED　CAUSTICALLY。
　Her　face　was　grim　as　she　wrapped　Jennie's　lunch　in　a　piece　of　wax　paper。　Tom　didn't　speak；　looking　down　at　the　paper　again　as　Jennie　came　into　the　room。　〃Good　morning；　Mom；〃　she　said　brightly。　〃Morning；　Daddy。〃
　〃Good　morning；　Jennie　Bear；〃　he　said；　smiling　at　her。　〃How's　my　Winnie　Winkle　this　morning？〃
　〃Just　fine；　Daddy。〃　It　was　a　private　joke　between　them。　He'd　called　her　that　when　she　got　a　job　as　a　typist　in　the　insurance　pany　last　month。　It　had　been　just　five　weeks　after　he'd　lost　his　job　on　the　cable　cars　and　two　weeks　after　she　graduated　from　Mercy　High　School。
　〃You're　the　Winnie　Winkle；〃　he'd　said。　〃But　I'll　get　something　in　a　few　weeks。　Then　you'll　be　able　to　go　to　St。　Mary's；　like　you　planned。〃
　〃Ye　have　too　much　lipstick　on；　Jennie；〃　her　mother　said。　〃Best　take　some　of　it　off。〃
　Tom　looked　at　his　daughter。　She　didn't　have　that　much　lipstick　on。　It　was　much　less　than　most　of　the　girls　wore　whom　he　used　to　see　every　morning　on　the　cable　car。
　〃Oh；　Mother。〃　Jennie　protested。　〃I'm　working　in　an　office　now；　not　going　to　school。　I　have　to　look　decent。〃
　〃Decent　ye　should　look；　not　painted。〃
　〃Aw；　Ellen；　leave　the　girl　alone；〃　Tom　said　slowly。
　Ellen　glared　angrily　at　him。　〃When　you're　bringin'　home　some　of　the　money　to　feed　your　family；　then　ye　can　talk。〃
　Tom　stared　at　her；　his　face　setting　grimly。　He　could　feel　the　color　draining　from　it。　Jennie　smiled　sympathetically　at　him　and　that　made　it　even　worse。　He　never　expected　Jennie　to　be　pitying　him。　He　tightened　his　lips　against　a　flood　of　angry　words。
　〃Golly；　I'm　going　to　be　late；〃　Jennie　said；　jumping　to　her　feet。　She　snatched　at　the　paper　bag　on　the　table　and　started　for　the　door。　〃　'By；　Mom；〃　she　said　over　her　shoulder。　〃　'By；　Daddy。　Good　luck　today。〃
　Tom　could　hear　her　footsteps　running　down　the　stairs。　He　looked　down　at　the　paper　again。　〃Could　I　have　another　cup　of　coffee？〃
　〃No；　one　cup　is　all　ye　get。　How　much　coffee　d'ye　think　we　can　afford　on　the　child's　eleven　dollars　a　week？〃
　〃But　you　have　the　coffee　right　there。　It's　already　made。〃
　〃It's　for　warming　again　tomorrow　mornin'；〃　she　said。
　He　folded　the　paper　carefully；　got　up　and　walked　into　the　bathroom。　He　turned　on　the　tap　and　let　the　water　run　as　he　took　down　his　shaving　brush　and　razor。　He　held　his　hand　under　the　tap。　The　water　was　still　cold。　〃Ellen；　there's　no　hot　water　for　my　shave。〃
　〃Use　the　cold；　then；〃　she　called。　〃Unless　ye　have　a　quarter　for　the　gas　meter。　I'm　savin'　the　gas　we　have　left　for　the　child's　bath。〃
　He　looked　at　himself　in　the　mirror。　His　face　had　healed　from　the　beating；　but　his　nose　was　a　little　crooked　now　and　there　were　broken　edges　on　his　two　front　teeth。　He　put　down　the　brush　and　walked　into　the　kitchen。
　Ellen's　back　was　still　toward　him。　He　put　his　hands　on　her　shoulders　and　turned　her　around。　〃Ellen；　Ellen；〃　he　said　gently。　〃What's　happened　to　us？〃
　She　stared　up　into　his　face　for　a　moment；　then　reached　up　and　pushed　his　hands　from　her　shoulders。　〃Don't　touch　me；　Thomas　Denton。　Don't　touch　me。〃
　His　voice　was　resigned。　〃Why；　Ellen；　why？　It's　not　my　fault　what　happened。　It　was　God's　will。〃
　〃God's　will？〃　She　laughed　shrilly。　〃You're　the　one　to　be　talkin'　of　God's　will。　Him　that　hasn't　been　in　the　church　for　more　years　than　I　can　remember。　If　ye　thought　more　of　your　Saviour　than　you　did　of　your　Saturday…night　beer。　He'd　have　shown　ye　some　of　His　mercy。〃
　He　took　a　deep　breath　and　let　it　out　slowly。　Then　he　turned；　went　back　into　the　bathroom　and　began　to　shave　with　the　cold　water。　She　hadn't　always　been　like　this　…　sharp…tongued　and　acid…touched。　And　fanatical　about　the　church　and　the　priests。　Once；　she'd　been　Ellen　Fitzgerald；　with　laughing　eyes　and　dancing　feet；　and　he　remembered　her　at　the　Irish　Ballroom　on　Day　Street　the　time　he　first　met　her。
　She　was　the　prettiest　girl　on　the　floor　that　night；　with　her　dark…brown　hair　and　blue　eyes　and　tiny　feet。　That　was　in　1912　an