Free A Cool Million by Nathanael West Page B

Wu Fong with a servile bow, after which he backed out of the room.
    The Maharajah minced up to our hero,
who was conscious only of the man in the closet, and put his arm around the lad’s
waist.
    “Thom on, pithy boy, giff me a kith,” he said with a leer that transfigured his
otherwise unremarkable visage into a thing of evil.
    A wave of disgust made Lem’s hair stand on end. “Does he think me a girl?” the
poor lad wondered. “No, he called me a boy at least twice.”
    Lem looked
towards the closet for instructions. The man in that receptacle opened his door
and poked his head out. Puckering up his lips, he rolled his eyes amorously, at
the same time pointing at the Indian Prince.
    When our hero realized what was
expected of him, he turned pale with horror. He looked again at the Maharajah
and what he saw of lust in that man’s eyes made him almost swoon.
    Fortunately for Lem ,
however, instead of swooning, he opened his mouth to scream. This was the only
thing that could have saved him, for he spread his jaws too wide and his store
teeth fell clattering to the carpet.
    The Maharajah jumped away in
disgust.
    Then another lucky accident
occurred. When Lem bent awkwardly to pick up his
teeth, the glass eye that Mr. Hainey had given him
popped from his head and smashed to smithereens on the floor.
    This last was too much for the
Maharajah of Kanurani . He became enraged. Wu Fong had
cheated him! What kind of a pretty boy was this that came apart so horribly?
    Livid with anger, the Indian prince
ran out of the room to demand his money back. After he had gotten it, he left
the house, vowing never to return.
    Wu Fong blamed the loss of the
Maharajah’s trade on Lem and was extremely vexed with
the poor lad. He ordered his men to beat him roundly, strip him of his sailor
suit, then throw him into the street with his clothes
after him.

 
20
     
    Lem gathered together his clothing and crawled into the areaway of a deserted
house, where he donned his things. His first thought was to find a policeman.
    As is usual in such circumstances, a
guardian of the law was not immediately forthcoming and he had to go several
miles before he found a “peeler.”
    “Officer,” said our hero as best he
could minus his oral equipment, “I want to lodge a complaint.”
    “Yes,” said Patrolman Riley shortly,
for the poor lad’s appearance was far from prepossessing. The Chinaman had torn
his clothing and his eye was gone as well as his teeth.
    “I want you to summon
reinforcements, then immediately arrest Wu Fong who is running a disorderly
house under the guise of a laundry.”
    “Wu Fong is it that you want me to
arrest? Why, you drunken fool, he’s the biggest man in the district. Take my
advice and get yourself a cup of black coffee, then go home and sleep it off.”
    “But I have positive proof that he’s
keeping a girl in his house against her will, and he did me physical violence.”
    “One more word out of you about my
great good friend,” said the officer, “and off you go to jail.”
    “But…” began Lem indignantly.
    Officer Riley was a man of his word.
He did not let the poor lad finish, but struck him a smart blow on the head
with his truncheon, then took him by the collar and dragged him to the station
house.
    When Lem regained consciousness several hours later, he found himself in a cell. He
quickly remembered what had happened to him and tried to think of a way in
which to extricate himself from his difficulties. The first thing was to tell
his story to some superior police officer or magistrate. But no matter how
loudly he called, he was unable to attract the attention of anyone.
    Not until the next day was he fed,
and then w small man of the Jewish persuasion entered his cell.
    “Have you any money?” said this
member of the chosen people.
    “Who are you?” countered Lem with another question.
    “Me? I’m your lawyer, Seth Abromovitz , Esquire. Please answer my first question or I
won’t be able