The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [385]
“Jesus, I think I will, and thanks for the tip. You say that Imbray is on the bust and his stocks won’t go up?”
“They’re so highly overvalued they can’t go up much until the water is run out of them. There’ll be a receivership. I think the story will break any one of these days. The old man is just going to be shoved out. I hope you didn’t go in deep, Studs?”
“No. Just fifteen shares or so of a new issue.”
“That’s too bad. But take what you can get out of it, and get out right away. I got friends on the inside, and I’m not just talking rumors.”
“I will, and thanks. It’s not a great loss, but then a dollar is a dollar,” Studs said, becoming suddenly uneasy, because he noticed how Fran was carefully scrutinizing him.
“Studs, are you running around very much?” Fran asked, and Catherine flushed, her lips compressed in anger, and to mask it she forced a smile.
“Why, no. Why?” Studs asked.
“You’re awfully pale. You ought to be taking better care of yourself.”
“That’s just what I told him. And after all my nagging I’ve only just now, at last, got him to stop smoking,” Catherine said.
“Yes, he should,” Fran said without looking at Catherine. “Studs, you look ghastly, and you ought to be taking better care of yourself. You should see Doctor O’Donnell regularly, drink a lot of milk to build yourself up, and you should do some other kind of work besides painting. That’s too hard for anyone in your condition.”
“I’m all right. I tired myself out a little swimming, but that’s not serious,” Studs said.
“It is too serious. You’re getting married now, and you must take care of yourself. If you don’t, I’m telling you it can be very serious. You look simply terrible. Catherine, you better watch him closely and make him take care of him-self. He never would pay any attention to what my mother or Fritzie or I would tell him.”
“Well, I tell you I’m all right,” Studs said, smiling sheepishly.
“These men!” Catherine smiled.
“Yes, Carroll is much the same,” Fran said.
“Studs, you and I better go crawl away and hide our heads somewhere,” Carroll said dryly, filling an expensive pipe from a calfskin tobacco pouch, and Studs shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.
“And Catherine, dear, I do want to see you alone sometime where we can talk. I’m going to be downtown Wednesday. Could you meet Loretta and I for lunch?”
“Why, Fran, darling, I’d love to.”
“What time could you meet me in the Fern Room at Sheriff and Forest’s?”
“Twelve o’clock.”
“All right, dear, I’ll expect you.”
“And don’t forget, Studs, we’ve got to see more of you,” Carroll said, puffing on his pipe.
“Sure,” Studs said.
“See any of the old boys much?”
“Not many.”
“I see Kelly in court now and then. He’s become a regular politician, with an alderman and all the other accoutrements. But I guess he’s getting along. And I heard that Dan Donoghue’s uncle failed in that string of movies he had up in Wisconsin.”
“Gee, I’m sorry to hear that. Know what he’s doing?”
“No.”
“I’d like to see him. Good old Dan,” Studs said.
“Dan’s a fine fellow, and smart, too.”
“Seen Phil’s place since he fixed it up?”
“Have I!” Carroll smiled. “It looks like a movie set in a penthouse picture. But it was smart. It cost Phil plenty, but he’ll get it back in time. Phil has a smart head on his shoulders.”
“Well, people, I think we’d better be running along,” Catherine said.
“And Catherine, darling, make him watch himself. See you on Wednesday,” Fran said after the girls had kissed.
They parted. Studs felt very weak, and walked slowly, thinking of how healthy Carroll had looked.
“Carroll looks like he’s up in the bucks, all right. But then his brother married the niece of Judge O