“Oh, he’ll be all right,” Dr. Rindger said. “Well, good night, Mrs. Cool.”
“Good night.”
Bertha Cool was grinning broadly as she climbed back into, the waiting taxicab.
“Where to now?” the cab driver asked.
“The Metro Hotel,” Bertha said, settling her chunky figure back in the deep cushions. “And in case you don’t know, I’ve finally climbed aboard.”
“Climbed aboard?” the cab driver asked.
“The gravy train,” Bertha explained, smiling triumphantly.
“Glad to hear it,” the cab driver said, “I’ve heard the old hack called lots of things, but this is the first time anyone called it the gravy train.”
“Well, I’m riding it.” Bertha said. “Took a little fumbling to get aboard, but I’m on it now.”
At the Metro Hotel, Bertha Cool went directly to the house telephones and said, “You have a Christopher Milbers stopping here?”