l I can get out of Pyramid on the subject; for when it
comes to business, he's about as chatty over his plans as a hard shell
clam on the suffragette question. I've known him to make some freak
plans; but this move of pickin' out a yellow one like Egbert and
rewardin' him as if he was a Carnegie medal winner beat anything he'd
ever sprung yet.

It's no bluff, either. I hears of this Marston gent sportin' around at
the clubs, and it wa'n't until I accident'lly run across an item on the
Wall Street page that I gets any more details. He shows up, if you
please, as secretary of the Consolidated Holding Company that there's
been so much talk about. I asks Pinckney what kind of an outfit that was;
but he don't know.

"Huh!" says I. "All I'd feel safe in givin' Egbert to hold for me would
be one end of the Brooklyn Bridge."

"I don't care what he holds," says Pinckney, "if he will stay away from
our little governess. She's a treasure."

Seems Mrs. Marston had been doin' some great tricks with the twins, not
only keepin' 'em from marrin' the furniture, but teachin' 'em all kinds
of knowledge and improvin' their table manners, until it was almost safe
to have 'em down to luncheon now and then.

But her life was being made miser'ble by the prospect of havin' Egbert
show up any day and create a row. She confided the whole tale to Sadie,
how she was through with Marston for good, but didn't dare tell him so,
and how she sent him most of her salary to keep him away.

"The loafer!" says I. "And think of the chance I had at him there in the
studio! Hanged if I don't get even with Pyramid for that, though!"

But I didn't. Mr. Gordon's been too busy this season to show up for any
trainin', and it was only here the other day that I runs across him in
the street.

"Well," says I, "how's that work scornin' pet of yours gettin' on these
days?"

"Marston?" says he. "Why, haven't you heard? Mr. Marston is away on a
vacation."

"Vacation!" says I. "He needs it, he does!"

"The company thought so," says Pyramid. "They gave him six months' leave
with pay. He's hunting reindeer or musk ox somewhere up in British
Columbia."

"Him a hunter?" says I. "G'wan!"

Pyramid grins. "He did develop a liking for the wilderness rather
suddenly," says he; "but that is where he is now. In fact, I shouldn't be
surprised if he stayed up there for a year or more."

"What's the joke?" says I, catchin' a flicker in them puffy eyes of
Pyramid's.