erstone!' 'Did I?' said Jimmie, looking
bewildered. 'I wonder why I did that?' 'Well, Mr. Featherstone, since
you ask me, I'll tell you,' said old Dan--he's savage as a wild boar,
you know, and won't be delayed at meetings. 'The reason is that the
last time you were drunker than you are now. If you would adopt a
uniform standard of intoxication for the directors' meetings of this
road, it would expedite matters considerably.'"

They had got as far as the romaine salad. The waiter came with a bowl
of dressing--and at the sight of it, the old gentleman forgot Jimmie
Featherstone. "Why are you bringing me that stuff?" he cried. "I don't
want that! Take it away and get me some vinegar and oil."

The waiter fled in dismay, while the Major went on growling under his
breath. Then from behind him came a voice: "What's the matter with you
this evening, Venable? You're peevish!"

The Major looked up. "Hello, you old cormorant," said he. "How do you
do these days?"

The old cormorant replied that he did very well. He was a pudgy little
man, with a pursed-up, wrinkled face. "My friend Mr. Montague--Mr.
Symmes," said the Major.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Montague," said Mr. Symmes, peering
over his spectacles.

"And what are you doing with yourself these days?" asked the Major.

The other smiled genially. "Nothing much," said he. "Seducing my
friends' wives, as usual."

"And who's the latest?"

"Read the newspapers, and you'll find out," laughed Symmes. "I'm told
I'm being shadowed."

He passed on down the room, chuckling to himself; and the Major said,
"That's Maltby Symmes. Have you heard of him?"

"No," said Montague.

"He gets into the papers a good deal. He was up in supplementary
proceedings the other day--couldn't pay his liquor bill."

"A member of the Millionaires'?" laughed Montague.

"Yes, the papers made quite a joke out of it," said the other. "But you
see he's run through a couple of fortunes; the last was his
mother's--eleven millions, I believe. He's been a pretty lively old boy
in his time."

The vinegar and oil had now arrived, and the Major set to work to dress
the salad. This was quite a ceremony, and Montague took it with amused
interest. The Major first gathered all the necessary articles together,
and looked them all over and grumbled at them. Then he mixed the
vinegar and the pepper and salt, a tablespoonful at a time, and poured
it over the salad. Then very slowly and carefully