but so long
as the home-made pastry holds out I was as good as nailed to the spot.
She seems to get a heap of satisfaction watchin' me eat, almost as much
as though she was feedin' ground glass to her best enemy. You've seen
that kind, that you can stand well enough until they begin to grin at
you. Aunt Laura's bluff at smilin' was enough to make a cat get its back
up, and you could tell she didn't really mean it, as well as if she'd
said, "Now I'm goin' to give you an imitation of somebody that's
pleased."

And all the time she was dealin' out a line of talk that was as smooth
as wet asphalt. Most of it was hot air that she said Benny'd been givin'
to her about me, and how sweet Mildred thought I was.

That should have been my cue; but I was too busy with the cake.

"Miss Morgan is such a dear girl, isn't she?" says Aunt Laura.

"Uh-huh," says I, pokin' in some frostin' that had lodged on the
outside.

"You are quite well acquainted with her, aren't you?" says she.

"Um-m-m-m," says I.

"Let's see," goes on Aunt Laura, "what is it she did at the office!"

"Chickety-click, ding-g-g!" says I, makin' motions with my fingers.

"Oh, typewriting!" says she. "But I suppose she was very skillful at
it?"

"Oh, she was a bird!" says I.

See what was happenin'? I was bein' pumped. It was more'n that too.
Everything I knew about Mildred, and a lot I guessed at, was emptied out
of me like she was usin' one of these vacuum cleaners on my head. When I
gets to telling about the place out West where Mildred lived before she
and her maw hit New York, Aunt Laura jumps up.

"Oh, I know some people who lived there once," says she. "I wonder if
any of them knew Miss Morgan?"

With that she picks up the desk 'phone and gives a call. Did they know
any Miss Morgans out there? Yes, Mildred Morgan. Really! A brother too?
How interesting! Who was he, and what was he doing last? What! In the
State penitentiary! That was enough for Aunt Laura. She hangs up the
receiver and says to me:

"Boy, when you get back to the office tell Mr. Robert I want to see him.
Come, you'd better be going now."

It was a case of "Here's your hat--what's your hurry!"

"Say," says I, "don't you go to swallowin' any tale about the Lady
Mildred havin' a brother that's a crook. There's lots of Morgans besides
her and J. P."

But all Aunt Laura does is hold the door open for me; so I beats it,
feelin' about as chipper as though I'd been turnin' State's