"Well, Doctor, you have satisfied me that you don't owe your washerwoman, so I'll take the bet you offered to make. And," I added, "I'll bet another cigar she won't let you in the house unless you have a bundle of washing along, and show her that you have a legitimate right to call on her."
This exasperated him again, and made him more determined than ever to show us what he could do.
He selected a bracket, and started for the washerwoman, who lived directly back of the hotel, on another street. It fifteen minutes to twelve o'clock when he started.
About noon one of the kitchen girls came running to the office, and called me to come quick to the back door. I hastened, and to my astonishment found the Doctor, under the greatest excitement. No spectacles on, his hat gone, a large piece torn from his fine swallow-tailed coat, and to all appearances he had just emerged from the sewer.
"Great Heavens! Doctor; what is up?" I asked.
"Don't say a word! don't say a word!" he cried. "Get me to my room, quick, before any one sees me."
"Where is your hat?" I asked.
"Over to the washerwoman's," he gasped.
"And your cane—what has become——"