"A little bird told me," he said.
"If I had the bird I'd ring his neck for tellin' tales," the porter remarked.
"I don't mind your smoking, Mike," the young man went on, "that's your own affair; but I'd rather you didn't smoke a pipe while you are tidying up the private office."
"Well, Mister Paul, I won't do it again," the porter promised.
"And I wouldn't encourage Bob to smoke, either," Paul continued.
"I encourage him?" inquired Mike.
"Yes," Paul explained; "yesterday morning you let him light his cigarette from your pipe—didn't you?"
"Were you peekin' in thro' the winder, Mister Paul?" the porter asked, eagerly. "Ye saw me, an' I never saw ye at all."
"No," the young man answered, "I can't say that I saw you myself. A little bird told me."
And with that he left the wondering porter and entered the store. Just inside the door was the office-boy, who hastily hid an unlighted cigarette as he caught sight of the senior partner's son.