afternoon before, and he seems surprised when I puts in an expense bill
of twenty-five cents.

"What's this for?" says he.

"Gumdrops for little Gladys," says I, and as he forks over a quarter I
never cracks a smile.

Wait until he hears the returns from Marjorie, though! I'll give him
some string to pay up for that kindergarten steer of his. Watch me!




CHAPTER IX

LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER

"Well?" says I, keepin' my feet up on the desk and glancin' casual over
the brass rail. "What's your complaint, Spaghetti?"

It's a wrong guess, to begin with; but I wa'n't even takin' the trouble
to place him accurate. He's some kind of a foreigner, and that's
enough. Besides, from the fidgety way he's grippin' his hat in both
hands, and the hesitating sidlin' style he has of makin' his approach,
I figured he must be a stray that had got the wrong number.

"If--if you please, Sir," says he, bowin' elaborate and humble, "Mr.
Robert Ellins."