"Ah reckon Ah done missed him."
"Why," says I, "Mr. Mason left hours ago. Must be something important
you want to see him about, eh?"
"Ah don't know as it is," says she; "only Ah promised, ef ever Ah got
to Noo Yawk, Ah'd look him up. He made me. And Ah sure would like to
see Warrie mahself."
"Warrie!" says I. "Oh, gosh! Why, you mean young Mr. Mason--Warren,
don't you?"
She nods.
"Well, say, that's too bad," says I. "My fault, though. But I never
thought of Warrie as the one. Why, he hasn't been with the Corrugated
for over a year now."
I might have added that we'd had hard work missin' him at any time.
Not that he wasn't all right in his way, but--well, it was just a case
of bein' more ornamental than useful. A bit thick in the head, Warrie.
But it was a stunnin' head--reg'lar Apollonaris Belvidere. He had wavy
brown hair, and big, peaceful brown eyes. Stood a little over six feet
too, and they say that when it came to ridin' a spotted pony and
swingin' a polo mallet he was all there. But in the bond department he
was just under foot.
So, when he develops rheumatism in one shoulder and a specialist orders
him South, it wasn't any serious jolt to the business world. And when
he finally shows up again it didn't take much urgin' from Mr.
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