"I've only just got in from Buffalo. I phoned to the Whitney house from the Grand Central, but they're both out of town, not to be back till tomorrow morning, and O'Mally's away too. Do you know how Ford is?"
"You bet I do. He's sat up, taken nourishment and talked."
"Talked? Have they seen him?"
"They have." I turned away and moved up the hall. "Come right in and I'll tell you."
I went into the dining-room where the drop light hung bright over the table, and was going on to the parlor when I heard his voice, loud and commanding, behind me:
"What's he said?"
I whisked round and there he was standing by the table, his eyes fixed hard and almost fierce on me.
"Won't you come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," I said laughing, just to tease him. He answered without the ghost of a smile:
"No. Go on quick. What did Ford say?"
"All right." I dropped down into Babbitts' chair and motioned him to mine. "Sit down there. It's a long story and I can't tell it to you if you stand in front of me like a patience on a monument."