"Sure thing. But I don't catch the conversation. What was all that con you were giving me—?"
"Con?"
"About Johnson and the triangles."
"It simply occurred to me to tell you a funny story, of the sort that men are known to like, with the hope of amusing you—"
"Why, that wasn't a funny story, Doc."
"I assure you that it was."
"Don't see it," said Klinker.
"That is not my responsibility, in any sense."
Thus Doctor Queed, sitting stiffly on his hard little chair, and gazing with annoyance at Klinker through the iron bars at the foot of the bed.
"Blest if I pipe," said Buck, and scratched his head.