"Alfred E. Ricks," said Jeff, "was the toad's designation."
"I see," said I, "the president of this mining company signs himself A. L. Fredericks. I was wondering—"
"Let me see that stock," said Jeff quickly, almost snatching it from me.
To mitigate, even though slightly, the embarrassment I summoned the waiter and ordered another bottle of the Barbera. I thought it was the least I could do.