He had on a broad black
scarf filling the space between the points of his wide-open standing
collar, and sticking out on each side. I afterward recalled the
impression of a gold watch-chain, and a broad ring on his finger. He
was quite changed in outward appearance from the poverty-stricken skunk
I had once known; but was if anything more skunk-like than ever: yet I
had to look twice to be sure of him.
"I am exceedingly glad to see you in the flesh," said he, coming forward
with his hand stuck out--a hand which I stared at but never
touched--"exceedingly glad to see you, my young brother. I have had a
spiritual vision of you. Honor us by coming in by the fire!"
"Where's my mother?" I asked, still standing in the open door.
Rucker started at the sound of my voice, which had changed from the
boy's soprano into a deep bass--much deeper than it is now. It was the
hoarse croak of the hobbledehoy.
The young woman had shrunk back behind him now.
"Your mother?" said he, in a sort of panther-like purr. "A spirit has
been for three days seeking to speak to a lost child through my
daughter. Come in, and let us see. Let us see if my daughter can not
pierce the mysteries of the unseen in your case. Come in!"
The cold was blowing in at the open door, and his tone was a little like
that of a man who wants to say, but does not feel it wise to do so,
"Come in and shut the door after you!"
"Your daughter!" I said, trying to think of something to say that would
show what I thought of him, her, and their dirty pretense; "your
daughter! Hell!"
"Young man," said he, drawing himself up stiffly, "what do you mean--?"
"I mean to find my mother!" I cried.
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