The Savage Gentleman (21 page)

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Authors: Philip Wylie

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: The Savage Gentleman

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' I'm Henry Stone. I'm the boss of this place. How many reporters are here?"

A half dozen men came toward him, Collins pushing them.

Henry wiped his face and coughed.

"Well--well--new policy. New management. Me. I'm going to run this God-damned business. No more gangs. No--no--everything. We're going for straight government."

He rocked on his feet, sobbed, and roared:

"You tell them, Collins. Collins is managing editor now. You tell them. Reform.

Clean city. I'll show Voorhees and his four-legged, yellow-livered baboons how to run a paper."

His head cleared a little more--although his breath was almost gone.

"As for you"--he yawped at Elihu Whitney and his granddaughter--"you're right.

I'm no gentleman! I--I'm a savage!!!"

He pitched on his face.

Police filled the newspaper building. Reporters with bandages on their arms and heads were writing history into the story of the change of policy in the
Record
and the other twenty-one Stone newspapers.

Henry lay on the couch in the office that had belonged to Voorhees and from which Voorhees had been removed--unconscious. Marian moistened his face with antiseptic and cotton.

He opened his eyes. For a minute, he stared.

"Lie still, dear," she said. "You're terribly beaten."

Henry's manners had returned. He lay still. He spoke.

"I apologize, of course. It was bestial. But--you see--I don't belong to this world. I don't understand its etiquette or its customs very well. I got mad."

She laughed softly. "Yes. You did get a little bit mad."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I think I should."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"Oh."

He closed his eyes. He realized that he should remember something his father had told him long ago--but he had a feeling that, whatever it was, it had been a mistake.

"Would you mind saying that again?"

"I love you."

Again, he was silent for some time.

"I think I know what you mean--now," he said at last. "It's something that father never knew--never understood. Love. It's bigger than jealousy. It's--it means that you will always love me not exclusively, but best and most."

She did not answer.

"It means--"

She kissed his battered face.

"That. It means that," he said wonderingly. "It means that--and so much more--"

"Lie still, Henry. Please--"

He lifted himself on his elbow. "I don't know what to say. I--yes, I do--get me a stenographer! I've got to dictate an editorial. You can help me!"

"But--"

"Say! I'm a newspaper man now. Get a stenographer--but kiss me before you go and have another kiss ready when you come back!"

THE END

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