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The Stories Of O.Henry - After Twenty Years (2)

The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarfpin was a large diamond, oddly set.

"Twenty years ago to-night," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy Wells, my best chum, and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."

"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meets, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"

"Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the other. "But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, stanchest old chap in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."

The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.

"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."

"Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman.

"You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. A man gets in a groove in New York. It takes the West to put a razor-edge on him."

    男子划了根火柴,点燃了叼在嘴上的雪茄。借着火柴的亮光,警察发现这个男子脸色苍白,右眼角附近有一块小小的白色的伤疤。 

    “20年前的今天晚上,”男子继续说,“我和吉米·维尔斯在这儿的餐馆共进晚餐。哦,吉米是我最要好的朋友。我们俩都是在纽约这个城市里长大的。从孩提时候起,我们就亲密无间,情同手足。当时,我正准备第二天早上就动身到西部去谋生。那天夜晚临分手的时候,我们俩约定:20年后的同一日期、同一时间,我们俩将来到这里再次相会。” 

    “这听起来倒挺有意思的。”警察说,“你们分手以后,你就没有收到过你那位朋友的信吗?” 

    “哦,收到过他的信。有一段时间我们曾相互通信。”那男子 说,“可是一两年之后,我们就失去了联系。你知道,西部是个很大的地方。而我呢,又总是不断地东奔西跑。可我相信,吉米只要还活着,就一定会来这儿和我相会的。他是我最信得过的朋友啦。” 

    说完,男子从口袋里掏出一块小巧玲球的金表。表上的宝石在黑暗中闪闪发光。“九点五十七分了。” 

    他说,“我们上一次是十点整在这儿的餐馆分手的。” 

    “你在西部混得不错吧?”警察问道。 

    “当然罗!吉米的光景要是能赶上我的一半就好了。啊,实在不容易啊!这些年来,我一直不得不东奔西跑……”
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