se of finding Prof-fes-seur McCabby," says he, reading
it off'n a card.

"If you mean McCabe," says I, "I'm discovered."

"Is it you that are also by the name of Shortee?" says he.

"Shorty for short," says I, "and P. C. D. on the end to lengthen it
out--Physical Culture Director, that stands for. Now do you want my
thumb-print, and a snap-shot of my family-tree?"

That seemed to stun him a little; but he revived after a minute, threw
out his chest, lifted his silk lid, and says, solemn as a new notary
public takin' the oath of office: "I am Baron Patchouli."

"You look it," says I. "Have a chair."

"I am," says he, gettin' a fresh start, "Baron Patchouli, of Hamstadt
and Duesseldorf."

"All right," says I, "take the settee. How are all the folks at home?"

But say, there wa'n't any use tryin' to jolly him into makin' a short
cut of it. He'd got his route of parade all planned out and he meant to
stick by it.

"Professeur McCabby--" says he.

"Don't," says I. "You make me feel like I'd been transplanted into
French and was runnin' a hack-line. Call it McCabe--a-b-e, abe."

"One thousand pardons," says he, and tries again. This time he gets
it--almost, and I lets him spiel away. Oh, mama! but I wish I could say
it the way he did! It would let me on the Proctor circuit, if I could.
But boiled down and skimmed, it was all about how I was a kind of
safety-deposit vault for everything he had to live for.

"My hopes, my fortune, my happiness, the very breath of my living, it is
all with you," says he as a windup, hittin' a Caruso pose, arms out,
toes in, and his breath comin' hard.

How was that for news from home? I did some swift surmisin', and then I
says, soothin' like: "Yes, I know; but don't take on about it so.
They're all right, just as you handed 'em over; only I asked me friend
the Sarge to lock 'em up till you called. We'll walk around and see the
Sarge right away."

"Ah!" says he, battin' his noble brow, "you do not comprehend. You make
to laugh. And me, I come to you from the adorable Sadie."

"Sadie?" says I. "Sadie Sullivan that was?"

He bows and grins.

"If you've got credentials from Sadie," says I, "it's all right. Now,
what's doing? Does she want me to match samples, or show you the sights
along the White Lane?"

"Ah, the adorable Sadie!" says he, rollin' his eyes, and puffin' out his
cheeks like he was tryin' the lung-tester. "I drive with her, I walk
with her, I sit by her side--on