Yollop
McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928
English
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[Illustration: LEAVING MRS. CHAMPNEY SEATED ALONE AND HELPLESS IN
THE MIDST OF THE CONFUSION, SMILK MARCHED MR. YOLLOP TO HIS BEDROOM]
YOLLOP
BY
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
FRONTISPIECE BY
EDWARD C. CASWELL
NEW YORK
1922
YOLLOP
CHAPTER ONE
In the first place, Mr. Yollop knew nothing about firearms. And so,
after he had overpowered the burglar and relieved him of a fully
loaded thirty-eight, he was singularly unimpressed by the following
tribute from the bewildered and somewhat exasperated captive:
"Say, ain't you got any more sense than to tackle a man with a gun,
you chuckle-headed idiot?" (Only he did not say "chuckle-headed,"
and he inserted several expletives between "say" and "ain't.")
The dazed intruder was hunched limply, in a sitting posture, over
against the wall, one hand clamped tightly to his jaw, the other
being elevated in obedience to a command that had to be thrice
repeated before it found lodgment in his whirling brain. Mr. Yollop,
who seemed to be satisfied with the holding up of but one hand,
cupped his own hand at the back of one ear, and demanded
querulously:
"What say!"
"Are you hard o' hearin'?"
"Hey?"
"Well for the--say, are you deef?"
"Don't say deef. Say deaf,--as if it were spelled d-e-double f.
Yes,--I am a little hard of hearing."
"Now, how the hell did you hear--I say, HOW DID YOU HEAR ME IN THE
ROOM, if it's a fair question?"
"If you've got anything in your mouth, spit it out. I can't make out
half what you say. Sounds like 'ollo--ollo--ollo'!"
The thief opened his mouth and with his tongue instituted a visible
search for the obstruction that appeared to annoy Mr. Yollop.
"They're all here except the one I had pulled last year," he
announced vastly relieved. A sharp spasm of pain in his jaw caused
him to abruptly take advantage of a recent discovery; and while he
was careful to couch his opinions in an undertone, he told Mr.
Yollop what he thought of him in terms that would have put the
hardiest pirate to blush. Something in Mr. Yollop's eye, however,
and the fidgety way in which he was fingering the trigger of the
pistol, moved him to interrupt a particularly satisfying paean of
blasphemy by breaking off short in the very middle of it to wonder
why in God's name he hadn't had sense enough to remember that all
deaf people are lip-readers.
"Spit it out!" repeated Mr. Yollop, with energy. "Don't talk with
your mouth full. I can't understand a word you say."
This was reassuring but not convincing. There was still the ominous
glitter in the speaker's eye to be reckoned with. The man on the
floor took the precaution to explain: "I hope "you didn't hear what
I was callin' myself." He spoke loudly and very distinctly.
"That's better," said Mr. Yollop, his face brightening. "I was
'afraid my hearing had got worse without my knowing it. All you have
to do is to enunciate distinctly and speak slowly like that,--as if
you were isolating the words,--so to speak,--and I can make out
everything you say. What were you calling yourself?"
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