’t bad. But he gave up trying to make time from Taqua to the Stage Coach. Too many turns in that road, and all uphill. You come to a fairly steep hill on that stretch, you climb the hill and think you’re set, but then you find it s only the beginning of the real hill. Once you get on top of the hill it is only a few hundred yards to the crossroads, which is where the Stage Coach is built. If you want to you can go on and climb some more hills, because the Stage Coach is built on a plateau, one of the coldest places in Pennsylvania. There has been an inn on the site of the Stage Coach as long as there has been a road. It was one of those things that had to be. Anyone who climbed that hill in the old days had to rest his horses and get a toddy for himself. And motorists liked to pause there for the same reason. It was a natural place to stop traveling. A wrought-iron coach-and-four, six feet long over all, hung from a post in front of the inn. The Stage Coach was only two years old, still new as Gibbsville things went, and Ed was making improvements all the time. A business acquaintance of Ed s in New York had sent Ed a fat, rosy-cheeked young man to do the decorating. The young man had been driven once back to New York by the practical jokes of the boys, but Ed gave out the word to leave him alone, so the pansy came back and did a very good job of the Stage Coach. People from the cities often commented on the Stage Coach, how surprising it was to see such a really nice place in all that coal-region squalor. Ed, of course, owned the place, but it was run by Foxie Lebrix, who had been headwaiter in one of the big New York hotels which one he never would say. Foxie was a strong, bulky Frenchman, about fifty-five years old, with white hair and a black mustache. He could tear a deck of cards in half, or break a man s jaw with a single punch. He also could cook stuff that only a few of the Lantenengo Street crowd ever had heard of, and just as few could pronounce. He was thought to be a killer, but nobody knew that for sure. Al Grecco treated him with respect. Hello, Fox, said Al, in Lebrix s office. Hello, said Lebrix. The big boy tell you I was coming? said Al. He dit, said Lebrix. He was dipping a cigar in brandy, using his left hand, and giving the impression of not letting his right hand know what the left hand was doing. He saved the right hand for his little gestures. Thee lady is resting, he tossed his head back to indicate upstairs. She was a little onder the wather wan Ed phoned.
She know I m coming?
She will. If you want the truth, she was cockeye dronk.
Oh, yeah? She s liable to
She wawnt leave the room. I have Marie to watch her. Marie was Lebrix s common law wife. Anyhow, that s what she said. You want to see her? She started to drink when she got op, without eating breakfast. She can t do dat. She can t drink at all. But no. It s Christmas. I have to drink. I have to get dronk. It s Christmas. God damn son of a bitch a bastard. I wish Ed would take her some other place. She is more trobble than she is worth.
Oh, well, said Al. Aw, well. Sure. Aw, well. If I had a woman do like that you bet she would not do it twice.
Oh, well, you know how it is, Fox, said Al. Lebrix nodded. Oh, pardon, he said. You have your dinner? Have a drink?
No, just a cuppa coffee.
Caf?Royale?
No, thanks, Fox. Just coffee. No drinks for me tonight.
Too bad. I ll order coffee. He pushed a button under the top of the desk and told a waiter to serve Al s coffee. Lots of reservations tonight. Several parties from Gibbsville, and a big dinner from Taqua. Jews. And that politician, Donovan, he has the nerve to reserve a table for ten for tonight. Cheap bastard son of a bitch.
He’ll pay, said Al. Sure he’ll pay. He’ll hand me a century, like a big heavy spender, and I m soppose to thank him politely, but then I give him his change and it s ten sawbucks. The waiters are lucky if they get a tip. That s the way he is, the cheap bastard son of a bitch. I d like to give him a Mickey Finn. I never gave one of those in my life, but if I do, he will be the first.