"My name's Hamilton," began Dick. "I believe my father arranged——"
"Oh yes, the colonel told me to look out for you," said the man who looked like a soldier. "Come right in. The colonel will be here directly. I'll take your baggage."
"Thank you—er Mr.——" and Dick hesitated, for he did not just know how to address the person in the hall, and wanted to make no mistake in bestowing a military title.
"Me? Oh I'm Sam Sander," said the man in the blue suit, apparently surprised that his identity was not known.
"Yes, that's Sam," went on the hack driver, with easy familiarity, "but nobody calls him that; do they, Toots?"
The other, who was helping to carry in Dick's trunk did not answer. Instead he whistled the bugle call for "Taps," or lights out.
"Do they, Toots?" repeated the hack driver.
"Do they what?" inquired the soldier, who seemed to be rather absent minded.
"Do they call you anything but Toots?"
"Nope. That's what they call me. I don't mind. I've almost forgotten what my real name is. Toots is good enough I expect."