"Wouldn't Auntie's game be to double back home?" I suggests.
"We'll see," says Old Hickory, and gives the order to beat it uptown
again.
And, sure enough, just as we gets in sight of the apartment house,
there's the other taxi, with Auntie haulin' Captain Killam out hasty.
Before we can dash up and pile out, they've disappeared in the
vestibule.
"Looks like we'd lost out by a nose," says I.
"Not yet," says Old Hickory. "I intend to see what those two mean by
this."
And after 'em we rushes.
But the one elevator was half way up when we fetches the gate. Old
Hickory puts his finger on the button and holds it there.
"They've stopped at the fourth," says I. "Now it'll be comin'-- No;
it's goin' all the way to the roof!"
There it stayed, too, although Old Hickory shoots some spicy commands
up the elevator well.
"No use; he's been bought," says I. "What's the matter with the
stairs? Only three flights."
"Good idea!" says Mr. Ellins; and up we starts.
He wouldn't break any stair-climbin' records in an amateur contest,
though, and when he does puff on to the last landin' he's purple behind
the ears and ain't got breath enough left to make any kind of speech.
So I tackles another interview with Helma.
"No," says she; "Meesus not coom yet.
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