In the navy, a man was given good pay and a good education.
He learned a trade.
He got good food and good clothing.
It was all given to him free, for nothing.
“H’m!” said Eliza, with a bantering smile.
“Why, say, boy, what do you want to do that for?
You’re my baby!”
It had been years since he was.
She smiled tremulously.
“Yes’m,” said Eugene.
“Can I go?
It’s only for five days.
I’ve got the money.”
He thrust his hand into his pocket, feeling.
“I tell you what!” said Eliza, working her lips, smiling.
“You may wish you had that money before this winter’s over.
You’re going to need new shoes and a warm overcoat when the cold weather comes.
You must be mighty rich.
I wish I could afford to go running off on a trip like that.”
“Oh, my God!” said Ben, with a short laugh.
He tossed his cigarette into one of the first fires of the year.
“I want to tell you, son,” said Eliza, becoming grave, “you’ve got to learn the value of a dollar or you’ll never have a roof to call your own.
I want you to have a good time, boy, but you mustn’t squander your money.”
“Yes’m,” said Eugene.
“For heaven’s sake!” Ben cried.
“It’s the kid’s own money.
Let him do what he likes with it.
If he wants to throw it out the damned window, it’s his own business.”
She clasped her hands thoughtfully upon her waist and stared away, pursing her lips.
“Well, I reckon it’ll be all right,” she said.
“Mrs. Bowden will take care of you.”
It was his first journey to a strange place alone.
Eliza packed an old valise carefully, and stowed away a box of sandwiches and eggs.
He went away at night.
As he stood by his valise, washed, brushed, excited, she wept a little. He was again, she felt, a little farther off.
The hunger for voyages was in his face.
“Be a good boy,” she said.
“Don’t get into any trouble down there.”
She thought carefully a moment, looking away.
Then she went down in her stocking, and pulled out a five-dollar bill.
“Don’t waste your money,” she said.
“Here’s a little extra.
You may need it.”
“Come here, you little thug!” said Ben.
Scowling, his quick hands worked busily at the boy’s stringy tie.
He jerked down his vest, slipping a wadded ten-dollar bill into Eugene’s pocket.
“Behave yourself,” he said, “or I’ll beat you to death.”
Max Isaacs whistled from the street.
He went out to join them.
There were six in Mrs. Bowden’s party: Max Isaacs, Malvin Bowden, Eugene, two girls named Josie and Louise, and Mrs. Bowden.