"Hold on," cried Mahooley. "You ain't ast what we'll have for dinner."

Sam waited for instructions.

"Well, let me see," said Mahooley. He tipped a wink in his partner's direction. "What's your fancy, Stiffy."

"Oh, I leave the mean-you to you, Mahooley."

"Well, I guess you can give us some patty de foy grass, and squab on toast, and angel cake."

"Sure," said Sam. "How about a biscuit Tortoni for dessert?"

"Don't you give me no lip!" cried Mahooley.


CHAPTER XVI