is science dope just to see if it would stand the
strain. Not so, Clarice! I'd woke up to the fact that I was bein'
carried along by the Corrugated as a sort of misfit inner tube stowed in
the bottom of the tool-box, and that it was up to me to make good.

So the first openin' I has I tackles Mr. Robert on the side.

"About that Rowley proposition?" says I.

"Oh, yes," says he. "I fear Mr. Briscoe thinks unfavorably of it."

"Then he's fruity in the pan," says I.

"We have been in the habit of accepting his judgment in such matters,"
says Mr. Robert.

"Maybe," says I; "but here's once when he's handin' you a stall. And
you're missin' out on something good too."

Mr. Robert smiles skeptical. "Really?" says he. "Perhaps you would like
to present a minority report?"

"Nothin' less," says I. "Oh, it may listen like a joke, but that's just
what I got in mind."

"H-m-m-m!" says Mr. Robert. "You realize that Briscoe is one of the
leading mining authorities in the country, I suppose, and that we pay
him a large salary as consulting engineer?"

I nods. "I know," says I. "And the nearest I ever got to seein' a mine
was watchin' 'em excavate for the subway. I'm admittin' all that."

"I may add too," goes on Mr. Robert, "that he has a way of stating his
opinions quite convincingly."

"Yep," says I, "I should judge that. But if I think he's bilkin' you on
this, is it my play to sit behind and chew my tongue?"

"By Jove!" says Mr. Robert, his sportin' instincts comin' to the top.
"You shall have your chance, Torchy. The directors shall hear your
views; to-morrow, at two-thirty. You will follow Briscoe."

"Let's not bill it ahead, then," says I, "if it'll be fair to spring it
on him."

"Quite," says Mr. Robert; "and rather more amusing, I fancy. I will
arrange it."

"I'd like to have old Rowley on the side lines, in case I get stuck,"
says I.

"Oh, certainly," says he. "Bring Mr. Rowley if you wish. And if there
are any preparations you would like to make----"

"I got one or two," says I, startin' for the door; "so mark me off until
about to-morrow noon."

Busy? Well, say, a kitten with four feet stuck in the flypaper didn't
have anything on me. I streaks it for Sixth-ave. and lands in Rowley's
loft all out of breath.

"What's up?" says he.

"The case of Briscoe _et al. vs._ Rowley," says I. "It's to be threshed
out before the full Corrugated board to-morrow at two-thirty. I'm the
counsel for the defense."