“Yes, sir, and Sam’s to catch. Maybe you’d be willing to umpire for us?”
“Thank you for your sweet thought, Pollock, but I’m too useful a member of this community to risk my life. I’ll yell for you, but I’d rather not take chances.”
[CHAPTER XXI]
MR. HALL TALKS BASEBALL
On the way to the office Sam narrated the story of his meeting with Mr. York, and his companion chuckled at intervals. Sam had not concluded his narrative when they passed through the door of the Adams Building and entered the elevator. Up they shot to the tenth floor and there Mr. Hall led the way to an office on the side of the building. The door held the inscription, “John T. Hall, Attorney and Councillor-at-Law.” The office was small, but light and cheerful, and was plainly furnished. Mr. Hall hung his Panama on a hook behind the door and pulled a chair forward for his visitor, seating himself at his desk between the two broad windows.
“Now we can be comfortable,” he said. “So John said he’d write me a letter, eh?”
“Yes, sir. Didn’t he—hasn’t he——”
“No, nor ever will,” laughed the other. “I’ve known him for almost twenty years and I’ve never had but three letters from him! He hates them like poison; writing them, I mean. But it doesn’t matter a bit, Craig. I’m just as glad to know you as if he’d written twenty pages about you. Besides, you can tell me more than he can, anyway. You live here in Amesville, of course?”
“Yes, sir, on Curtis Street.”