Skinner's Dress Suit

by Henry Irving Dodge

"Just as we're doing," Honey broke in.

"Er—not precisely," Skinner qualified. "But his investment has already returned self-respect, social opportunity, enhanced efficiency."

"And he has n't half as much brains as you have!"

"I don't know about that," said Skinner, rather dubiously. "Anyhow, what he's got are live ones." Then, after a pause, "Look here, Honey, we don't need to worry. We've already invested so much. It's going to continue to bring us in good things—and it is n't going to cost us any more."

"No, indeed, it isn't, Dearie. I'll see to that!" said Honey with firmness.

"And I 'll see to it that you see to it. That'll double cinch it," said Skinner.

Honey held up a finger; then turned and listened.

"That's the postman's whistle. I'll go."

A moment later, she burst into the room, her face radiant. "There," she cried, throwing a large, square envelope down in front of Skinner, "you can credit your dress-suit account with that!"