Read Ronicky Doone (1921) for Free Online Page A

cases. They followed up a steep pitch of stairs to the first floor of the hotel, where the landing had been widened to form a little office.
    "Hello, Bert," said their driver. "I picked up these gentlemen at Grand Central. They ain't wise to the town, so I put 'em next to you. Fix 'em up here?"
    "Sure," said Bert, lifting a huge bulk of manhood from behind the desk. He placed his fat hands on the top of it and observed his guests with a smile. "I'll make you right to home here, friends. Thank you, Joe!"
    Joe grinned, nodded and, receiving his money from Bill Gregg, departed down the stairs, humming. Their host, in the meantime, had picked up their suit cases and led the way down a hall dimly lighted by two flickering gas jets. Finally he reached a door and led them into a room where the gas had to be lighted. It showed them a cheerless apartment in spite of the red of wall paper and carpet.
    "Only three bucks," said the proprietor with the air of one bestowing charity out of the fullness of his heart. "Bathroom only two doors down. I guess you can't beat this layout, gents?"
    Bill Gregg glanced once about him and nodded.
    "You come up from the South, maybe?" asked the proprietor, lingering at the door.
    "West," said Bill Gregg curtly.
    "You don't say! Then you boys must be used to your toddy at night, eh?"
    "It's a tolerable dry country out there," said Ronicky without enthusiasm.
    "All the more reason you need some liquor to moisten it up. Wait till I get you a bottle of rye I got handy." And he disappeared in spite of their protests.
    "I ain't a drinking man," said Gregg, "and I know you ain't, but it's sure insulting to turn down a drink in these days!"
    Ronicky nodded, and presently the host returned with two glasses, rattling against a tall bottle on a tray.
    "Say, when," he said, filling the glasses and keeping on, in spite of their protests, until each glass was full.
    "I guess it looks pretty good to you to see the stuff again," he said, stepping back and rubbing his hands like one warmed by the consciousness of a good deed. "It ain't very plentiful around here."
    "Well," said Gregg, swinging up his glass, "here's in your eye, Ronicky, and here's to you, sir!"
    "Wait," replied Ronicky Doone. "Hold on a minute, Bill. Looks to me like you ain't drinking," he said to the proprietor.
    The fat man waved the suggestion aside. "Never touch it," he assured them. "Used to indulge a little in light wines and beers when the country was wet, but when it went dry the stuff didn't mean enough to me to make it worth while dodging the law. I just manage to keep a little of it around for old friends and men out of a dry country."
    "But we got a funny habit out in our country. We can't no ways drink unless the gent that's setting them out takes something himself. It ain't done that way in our part of the land," said Ronicky.
    "It ain't?"
    "Never!"
    "Come, come! That's a good joke. But, even if I can't be with you, boys, drink hearty."
    Ronicky Doone shook his head. "No joke at all," he said firmly. "Matter of politeness that a lot of gents are terrible hard set on out where we come from."
    "Why, Ronicky," protested Bill Gregg, "ain't you making it a little strong? For my part I've drunk twenty times without having the gent that set 'em up touch a thing. I reckon I can do it again. Here's how!"
    "Wait!" declared Ronicky Doone. And there was a little jarring ring in his voice that arrested the hand of Bill Gregg in the very act of raising the glass.
    Ronicky crossed the room quickly, took a glass from the washstand and, returning to the center table, poured a liberal drink of the whisky into it.
    "I dunno about my friend," he went on, almost sternly, to the bewildered hotel keeper. "I dunno about him, but some gents feel so strong about not drinking alone that they'd sooner fight. Well, sir, I'm one of that kind. So I say, there's your liquor. Get rid of it!"
    The fat man reached the center table and propped himself against it, gasping.