Inwardly Bobby frowned, for, so far, he had found no points about his caller to arouse his personal enthusiasm; and yet it suddenly occurred to him that here was doubtless business, and that it ought to have attention. His father, under similar circumstances, would find out what the man was after. He cast a hesitating glance at his friend.
“Don’t mind me, Bobby,” said Starlett briskly. “You know I shall be compelled to take dinner with the folks to-night.”
“At about what time, Mr. Trimmer?” Bobby asked.
“Oh, suit yourself. Any time,” responded that gentleman eagerly. “Say half-past six.”
“The Traders’,” mused Bobby. “I think the governor put me up there four or five years ago.”
“I seconded you,” the other informed him; “and I had the pleasure of voting for you just the other day, on the vacancy made by your father. You’re a full-fledged member now.”
“Fine!” said Bobby. “Business suit or——”
“Anything you like.” With again that circular smile behind his immovable mustache, Mr. Trimmer backed out of the room, and Bobby, dropping into a chair, turned perplexed eyes upon his friend.
“What do you suppose he wants?” he inquired.
“Your eye-teeth,” returned Jack bluntly. “He looks like a mucker to me.”