t--and that's as far as there's any
need of going. The girl comes from 'Frisco and is an earthquake orphan.
Hence the governess stunt. As for young Marston, he'd been chucked out of
college, tried out for a failure in the old man's brokerage office, and
then left to drift around town on a skimpy allowance. So he was in fine
shape to get married! The girl sticks to him, though, until there's
trouble with the landlady, and then, when he only turns ugly and makes no
move towards gettin' a job, she calls it off, gives him the slip, and
begins rustlin' for herself.

"Oh, well," says Pinckney, "I suppose she ought to have a chance. But if
that husband of hers is going to----"

"Next time you catch him at it," says I, "just 'phone down for me. It'll
be a pleasure."

I meant it too; for after hearing how she'd lost other places on account
of his hangin' around I could have enjoyed mussin' him up some.

With my feelin' that way, you can guess what a jar it is, one afternoon
when I'm having a little front office chat with my old reg'lar, Pyramid
Gordon, to see this same gent blow in through the door. Almost looked
like he knew what he ought to get and had come after it.

"Well?" says I as chilly as I knew how.

"Quite so," says he, "quite so. I see you remember our recent meeting.
Awkward situation for a moment, wasn't it, eh? Splendid chap, though,
your friend----"

"Say, choke off the hot air," says I, "and let's hear what gave you the
courage to climb those stairs!"

And what do you guess? He takes five minutes of steady chinnin' to get
around to it; but he puts over such a velvety line of talk, and it's so
int'restin' to watch him do it, that I let him spiel ahead until he gets
to the enactin' clause in his own way. And it's nothing more or less than
a brassy fingered touch for a twenty, all based on the fact that he met
me at a house where his wife's drawin' wages.

"Mr. Gordon," says I, turnin' to Pyramid, who's heard it all, "what do
you think of that, anyway?"

"Very neat, indeed," says Pyramid, chucklin'.

"And then a few!" says I. "I can almost see myself givin' up that twenty
right off the bat. Nothing but great presence of mind and wonderful
self-control holds me back. But look here, Mr. What's-your-name----"

"Marston," says he, flashin' an engraved visitin' card, "L. Egbert
Marston."

"L. Egbert, eh?" says I. "Does the L stand for Limed? And what do they
call you for short--Eggie?"

"Oh, suit yours