ndow. Of course, I
called him! Good morning, major, says I! Howdy? Chipper, and up and
coming as ever? Oh, says he, not particularly! Those very words! I can
still see him as he stood there!

ANTOINETTE (incredulously). Why you didn't tell me a thing about that.

LASKOWSKI. Guess I forgot to. Who'd think it would be the last time.
When I heard that he was dead, day before yesterday, it came to me
again. Then we rode in the same compartment and he kept telling me a
lot about you, Doc.

PAUL, (sarcastically). Really?

LASKOWSKI. He was pretty much bothered, what would become of the place,
when he'd be dead and gone ...

PAUL. You don't say!

LASKOWSKI. On my honor, Doc.! Expect me to fib to you. Of course I
talked him out of it, and told him not to bother about it. First of all
that it wasn't up to him yet, and if it was, _I_ was still in the ring.

PAUL. Very kind of you.

LASKOWSKI. With all my heart! You and me, Doc., h'm? We understand each
other! We'll come to terms all right. Old chap! Old crony! How tickled
I am to see you right here before me again! How often I have said if
Paul was only here now. Didn't I, dearie!

ANTOINETTE (gesture of impatience). Yes, yes.

LASKOWSKI. Well, what have you been doing all this time, Doc.?

PAUL. All kinds of things.

LASKOWSKI. Regular old Socrates. It makes a fellow's wheels buzz to
think of what he's got in his head all the time! Do you remember, old
chap, how you used to help me out when we were juniors?

PAUL. Sophomores, dear Laskowski! You failed to make junior standing.

LASKOWSKI (strikes his fist on the table, in great glee). Damn it all!
Did you remember that? I see, old chap, that a fellow has to be on his
guard with you.

PAUL (with a determined look). If you think ...

[Illustration: MOTHER EARTH]

LASKOWSKI. These fellows from Berlin. They are up to snuff! That's the
place! If they ever come out into the country, look out, boys. They'll
not leave a shirt on your back! Guess you made a good deal of
spondulics in Berlin, didn't you, Doc.? (He goes through with the
gesture of counting money.)

PAUL (cutting). Why?

LASKOWSKI. Goodness, a fellow will ask about that. You don't need it,
of course. Ellernhof is worth sixty, seventy thousand dollars any day,
and a fellow can live off of that. If you can only find a buyer ...

PAUL. I haven't the least desire, dear Laskowski.

LASKOWSKI. It's a hard thing too, now-a-days. Buyers are scarce and
ti