"I want you to go up to the Isongo, Bones," said Sanders; "there may be some trouble there—a woman is working miracles."
"He might get a new head," murmured Hamilton, but Bones pretended not to hear.
"Use your tact and get back before the 17th for the party."
"The——?" asked Bones.
He had an irritating trick of employing extravagant gestures of a fairly commonplace kind. Thus, if he desired to hear a statement repeated—though he had heard it well enough the first time—he would bend his head with a puzzled wrinkle of forehead, put his hand to his ear and wait anxiously, even painfully, for the repetition.
"You heard what the Commissioner said," growled Hamilton. "Party—P-A-R-T-Y."
"My birthday is not until April, your Excellency," said Bones.
"I'd guess the date—but what's the use?" interposed Hamilton.
"It isn't a birthday party, Bones," said Sanders. "We are giving a house-warming for Miss Hamilton."
Bones gasped, and turned an incredulous eye upon his chief.