“Sato, take that stuff out.” He pointed to the untouched whiskey. “Order supper at ten o'clock—for five people. Champagne. Orchids. Get me a taxicab in half an hour.”
“Yisso!”
Tinker rose, astounded. “Taxicab? Where you—”
“To Brooklyn!” shouted Potter with shining eyes. “She'll drive with me if I bring them both, I guess, won't she?”
He began to sing:
“For to-night we'll merry, merry be!
For to-night we'll merry, merry be—”
Leaping uproariously upon the aged Tinker, he caught him by the waist and waltzed him round and round the room.
THE END