XV
FINAL STRAWS
One morning when the busy writer and two artists who lived and toiled together in apartments near Union Square—now the offices of the "Whole Family"—returned to them after a light and wholesome breakfast, they found their stairway full of girls—girls of almost every age and apparently of almost every station in life. There were tall girls, short girls, slender girls, stout girls, girls of every complexion and every manner of dress. Also, more girls were constantly coming and pressing their way into the hall. The friends stood aghast.
Van Dorn swore under his breath.
"What is it?" whispered Livingstone, fearfully. "What have we done now?"
A flicker of light flitted across Perner's face.
"I guess the Colonel did it," he said. "He put a line in one of the papers last night for a few girls to help him. I suppose this is the result."
"Do you call this a few?" gasped Livingstone.
"Well, of course we couldn't tell just how many would come. That paper must have a good many readers. We don't have to take 'em all, you know."