"You say that again!"
"Ahh! I dare yeh to touch me! I dare yeh!"
And so on, and so on. Jack, feeling very foolish, had to make out to be studying the pattern of a rug displayed in a nearby window. Anybody who knows boys knows that these discussions are apt to be kept up a long time without getting anywhere. But they end as suddenly as they begin. Having exhausted their powers of repartee they parted, instantly forgetting each other. Jack's quarry continued around the corner and up Fifth avenue.
There were other interruptions; a man was painting a sign; another was dressing a window. Jack almost despaired of arriving at any destination. He wondered if the old man was as impatiently awaiting his packet. Finally it began to rain, and the boy mended his pace a little. He led Jack into the Public Library, and Jack with an accelerated beating of the heart wondered if the rendezvous were here. But the boy went out again by the Forty-Second street door, and it appeared he had only been taking advantage of the long corridors to walk dry shod.
The messenger darted across Forty-Second street in his usual reckless style, and Jack found himself back in the vicinity of the Eureka offices. To his astonishment, the boy turned into that very building. Jack went up in the elevator with him. He got put at the fourth floor, and entered the Eureka offices.
Jack lingered in the corridor, biting his lips in chagrin. All his trouble amounted to this, that he had been led back to the point he started from. He wondered if it were possible that the seemingly heedless Anderson had turned a clever trick on him. He felt that he had to find out at whatever risk. He had a good excuse to enter, for he had said he would be back. He entered, passing through the outer office into Anderson's room as he was accustomed to do.
Anderson was in the act of receipting for the packet. He greeted Jack without the least departure from his usual careless air, and Jack felt relieved. The boy went out, already pursing up his lips to whistle. It all meant nothing to him.
Jack ventured to say with an indifferent air: "Why, when I left you, you were just sending out a packet like that."
"It was the very same package," Anderson replied. "Funny thing, half an hour after I sent it the boss called up again, and said he'd changed his mind and wanted it at the Hotel Madagascar. He never did that before. I sent after it, but the boy was so long coming back, I went to the bank and drew more. 'Tain't healthy to keep the boss waiting too long. I just sent off the second lot."
"Madagascar!" thought Jack. "My own hotel! He has a nerve. Maybe there's a chance to get him there!"