"You tell him," said Daniel to the telephone girl.
"He has an engagement at South six-eight-k."
The mystified Tom eyed first one, then the other.
"What on earth is that?" he asked.
"The Baltimore Yacht Club."
He was still unenlightened.
"But why"—he began.
"Come on, old hayseed," said Daniel, taking Tom's arm. "Let's go into the palmroom, and I'll tell you all about it."
"I'll call you up tomorrow to get your size for the gloves," he remarked to the telephone genius as he bade her good night.
"You know what number to call?"