The Colonel looked nettled. He was by nature a choleric man, but in his age he had learned the futility of disputation and affray, and nowadays kept a tight rein upon himself.
"You are frank sir—'tis a commendable quality. Doubtless your work will put my own poor efforts to the blush."
"I shall leave you to judge of that, Colonel Cowles."
The Colonel, abandoning his hospitable plan of inviting his new assistant to sup with him at the club, bowed with dignity, and Queed eagerly left him. Glancing at his watch in the elevator, the young man figured that the interview, including going and coming, would stand him in an hour's time, which was ten minutes more than he had allowed for it.
V
Selections from Contemporary Opinions of Mr. Queed; also concerning Henry G. Surface, his Life and Deeds; of Fifi, the Landlady's Daughter, and how she happened to look up Altruism in the Dictionary.
A month later, one icy afternoon, Charles Gardiner West ran into Colonel Cowles at the club, where the Colonel, a lone widower, repaired each day at six P.M., there to talk over the state of the Union till nine-thirty.
"Colonel," said West, dropping into a chair, "man to man, what is your opinion of Doctor Queed's editorials?"
"They are unanswerable," said the Colonel, and consulted his favorite ante-prandial refreshment.