an it that way."

"The only thing I've got against Mrs. Jackson is she's a social climber,"
Perkins broke in.

"The only thing I 've got against her," said McLaughlin, "is--she don't
climb. She wants to, but she don't."

"Is there any particular reason why she does n't climb?" said Skinner.

"Vulgar--ostentatiously vulgar," said McLaughlin.

Skinner smiled. He pondered a moment, then ventured, "Say, Mr.
McLaughlin, it'd be a big feather in my cap if I landed Jackson, wouldn't
it?"

"One of the ostrich variety, my son,--seeing that the great auk is dead,"
said McLaughlin solemnly.

Skinner's voice faltered a bit. "You don't know, Mr. McLaughlin, and
you, Mr. Perkins, how grateful I am for this opportunity. I--I--" He
turned and left the room.

"It's pathetic, ain't it? I feel like a sneak, Perk," said McLaughlin.

"Pathetic, yes," said Perkins. "But it's for his good. If he's all
right, we're vindicating him--if he is n't all right, we want to know it."

The "cage man" whistled softly to himself as he reflected that the awful
day of confessing to Honey was deferred for an indefinite period. It was
a respite. But what gave him profound satisfaction was the fact that
McLaughlin and Perkins were beginning to realize that he could do
something besides stand in a cage and count money. They had made him
their plenipotentiary, McLaughlin said. Gad! That meant full power! By
jingo! He kept on whistling, which was significant, for Skinner rarely
whistled.

And for the first time in his career, when he smelt burning wood pulp and
looked down at the line of messenger boys with a ready-made frown and
caught the eyes of Mickey, the "littlest," smiling impudently at him,
Skinner smiled back.

For the rest of the day, as Skinner sat in his cage, three things kept
running through his head: he's a curmudgeon; she's a climber; and she
_doesn't_ climb. From these three things the "cage man" subconsciously
evolved a proposition:--

Three persons would go to St. Paul, named in order of their importance:
First, Skinner's dress suit; second, Honey; and third, Skinner.

CHAPTER IX

SKINNER FISHES WITH A DIPLOMATIC HOOK

The first step in the scheme which Skinner had evolved for the
reclamation of Willard Jackson, of St. Paul, Minnesota, was to be taken
Sunday morning, after services, at the First Presbyterian Church of
Meadeville, New Jersey.

Skinner had not told Honey he was going to take her on his