But never a smile out of
Old Hickory. He listens grim without interruptin'.
"But what about her first name?" he asks at last.
"Oh, sure," says I. "Didn't I mention that? Natalie. And I expect
she was some stunner. She's near the finish now, though. Shouldn't
wonder but to-morrow might be her last third Wednesday."
"Who says so?" demands Mr. Ellins savage.
"Her doctor," says I.
With that, Old Hickory bangs his fist on the desk.
"Then, by the Lord Harry," says he, "I'd like to make it a good one."
"Eh?" says I, gawpin'.
"Young man," says he, "I don't know whether you have had fool luck or
have been particularly clever, but thus far you have handled this
affair for me like a diplomat. Now I'm going to ask you to do
something more. I don't care to hear another word about Mrs. Bagstock,
not a whisper, but--er--here's a check for two hundred dollars. No,
I'll make it five. Just take that and see that her silly tea to-morrow
is a bang-up affair, with plenty of real guests."
I gasps.
"But, I say, Mr. Ellins," I begins, "how do I--"
"Don't ask me how, young man," he snaps. "What do I know about
tea-parties? Do as I tell you."
Say, that's some unique order to shoot at a private sec., ain't it?
And did I make good? Listen.
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