door. A waiter stood there, uncertain whether to turn the knob or
push the bolt.

"Damned nuisance!" said Richard Van Winkle. "I want to hear
Brewster's speech."

"Speech! Speech!" echoed everywhere. Men settled into their
places.

"Mr. Montgomery Brewster," Pettingill introduced.

Again the bell rang--long and loud.

"Reinforcements. I'll bet there's a patrol in the street,"
remarked Oliver Harrison.

"If it's only the police, let them in," said Pettingill. "I
thought it was a creditor."

The waiter opened the door.

"Some one to see Mr. Brewster, sir," he announced.

"Is she pretty, waiter?" called McCloud.

"He says he is Ellis, from your grandfather's, sir!"

"My compliments to Ellis, and ask him to inform my grandfather
that it's after banking hours. I'll see him in the morning," said
Mr. Brewster, who had reddened under the jests of his companions.