of them firms that
keep their rent paid. Some perfect stranger it is, who does the
reverse goose step so unexpected that there's no duckin' a collision.
Quite a substantial party he is, too, and where my nose connects with
his shoulder he's built about as solid as a concrete pillar.

"Say," I remarks, when the aurora borealis has faded out and I can see
straight again, "if you're goin' to carom around that way in public,
you ought to wear pads."

"Oh, I'm sorry," says he. "I didn't mean to be so awkward. Hope
you're not hurt, sir."

Then I did do some gawpin'. For who'd ever expect a big,
rough-finished husk like that, would have such a soft, ladylike voice
concealed about him? And the "sir" was real soothin'.

"It's all right," says I. "Guess I ain't disabled for life. Next
time, though, I'll be particular to walk around."

"But really," he goes on, "I--I'm not here regularly. I was just
trying to find a name--a Mr. Robert Ellins."

"Eh?" says I. "Lookin' for Mr. Robert, are you?"

"Then you know him?" he asks eager.

"Ought to," says I. "He's my boss. Corrugated Trust is what you
should have looked under."

"Ah, yes; I remember now," says he. "Corrugated Trust--that's the part
I'd forgotten. Then perhaps you can tell me just where--"

"I could," says I, "but it wouldn't do you a bit of good. He's got
appointments up to 1:15. After that he'll be taking two hours off for
luncheon--if he comes back at all. Better make a date for to-morrow or
next day."

The solid gent looks disappointed.

"I had hoped I might find him to-day," says he. "It--it's rather
important."

At which I sizes him up a little closer. Sort of a carrot blond, this
gent is, with close-cropped pale red hair, about the ruddiest neck you
ever saw off a turkey gobbler, and a face that's so freckled it looks
crowded. The double-breasted blue serge coat and the blue flannel
shirt with the black sailor tie gives me a hunch, though. Maybe he's
one of Mr. Robert's yacht captains.

"What name?" says I.

"Killam," says he. "Rupert Killam."

"Sounds bloodthirsty," says I. "Cap'n, eh?"

"Why--er--yes," says he. "That is what I am usually called."

"I see," says I. "Used to sail his 60-footer, did you?"

No, that wasn't quite the idea, either. That's somewhere near his
line, though, and he wants to see Mr. Robert very particular.

"I think I may assure you," the Captain goes on, "that it will be to
his advantage."