elping him along. I couldn't see just where
we was let into this affair of Wilbur's; but as Pinckney's so set on
it, I begins battin' my head for a way of takin' up the trail.

And it's wonderful what sleuth work you can do just by usin' the 'phone
liberal. First I calls up the agent of the buildin', and finds that
the meal fact'ry has moved over to Eighth-ave. Then I gets that number
and brings Zylphina's old boss to the wire. Sure, he remembers Miss
Beck. No, she ain't with him now. He thinks she took a course in
manicurin', and one of the girls says she heard of her doin' the hand
holdin' act in an apartment hotel on West 35th-st. After three tries
we has Zylphina herself on the 'phone.

"Guess who's here," says I.

"That you, Roland?" says she.

"Aw, pickles!" says I. "Set the calendar back a year or so, and then
come again. Ever hear of Wilbur, from Hoxie, Kan.?"

Whether it was a squeal or a snicker, I couldn't make out; but she was
on. As I couldn't drag Wilbur up to the receiver, I has to carry
through the talk myself, and I makes a date for him to meet her in
front of the hotel at six-thirty that evenin', when the day shift of
nail polishers goes off duty.

"Does that suit, Wilbur?" says I.

Does it? You never saw so much pure joy spread over a single
countenance as what he flashes up. He gives me a grip I can feel yet,
and the grin that opens his face was one of these reg'lar ear
connectors. Pinckney was tickled too, and it's all I can do to get him
off one side where I can whisper confidential.

"Maybe it ain't struck you yet," says I, "that Zylphina's likely to
have changed some in her ideas as to what a honey boy looks like. Now
Wilbur's all right in his way; but ain't he a little rugged to spring
on a lady manicure that hasn't seen him for some time?"

And when Pinckney comes to take a close view, he agrees that Mr. Cobb
is a trifle fuzzy. "But we can spruce him up," says Pinckney. "There
are four hours to do it in."

"Four weeks would be better," says I; "it's considerable of a contract."

That don't bother Pinckney any. He's got nothing else on hand for the
afternoon, and he can't plan any better sport than improvin' Wilbur's
looks so Zylphina's first impression'll be a good one.

He begins by making Wilbur peel the cinnamon brown costume, drapin' him
in a couple of bath robes, while Swifty takes the suit out to one of
these pants-pressed-while you wait places. When it com