A knock sounded, and he turned quickly. Through the door waddled a fat man with a woe-begone expression and a multiple chin. He groaned and puffed as if the task of carrying his elephantine body through life was not a light burden. The newcomer was Clifford Wade, once The Gray Phantom’s chief lieutenant and now the major-domo of his little household.
“Wade,” observed The Phantom, eyeing the fat man with disapproval, “you are getting soft. This easy and carefree existence is demoralizing you completely.”
The other placed a stack of newspapers and a few letters on the table, then slumped into a chair and gazed ruefully down at the protruding curvature of his stomach.
“I know, boss. I piled on two more pounds last week. Pretty soon I won’t be able to go for the mail any more. If you’d only say the word, I’d round up the old gang, and we’d turn a few more tricks like the ones we used to pull in the good old days. I’d work off this fat in no time.”
The Phantom shook his head. “No, Wade. You will have to try some other form of fat reducer. I am through with the old life for good. It was exciting while it lasted, but the novelty has worn off. It was only a sort of emotional eruption, anyhow.”
Wade scowled, then delivered himself of a startling exclamation: “Hang the women!”
The Phantom raised his brows in surprise. “What’s your grievance against the fair sex, Wade? Hanging is pretty serious business, you know. What atrocious crime have the women perpetrated against you to deserve such cruel punishment? You don’t look like a man suffering the pangs of unrequited love. Your heart is intact, I hope?”
“Oh, my heart’s all right,” Wade complained. “It’s yours that I’m worrying about. Lately I haven’t been able to dope you out at all, boss. If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d say you’ve gone plumb dippy. There was a time not so long ago when you went in for big game—real he-man stuff. There were a lot of men on the police force who used to have a funny feeling around the solar plexus whenever The Gray Phantom’s name was spoken. You cut some fancy didos in those days, boss. Now—now you’re poking seeds into the ground and talking of reforming.” Wade made a gesture of great disgust.
“Granted,” said The Phantom, smiling, “but is that any reason for exterminating the feminine sex?”
“You bet it is. The trouble with you is that you’ve got too much girl on the brain, boss. You were all right until that pretty little skirt with the big baby eyes happened along.”