"TELL 'EM TO TELL MR. BONDIFELLER THAT I AM TOO BUSY TO SEE HIM"

"NUMBER FORTY-TWO, please!" he cried. "Gentleman number FORTY-TWO!"

"Wait a minute, Barber," said Jack. "That's my number. Here, boy, what is it?"

"Wanted on the telephone, sir," said the boy.

"Find out who it is," said Jack, impatiently.

"Yes, sir," said the boy. "I have, sir. They told me to tell you, sir, that Mr. Bondifeller was on the 'phone, sir."

"Oh, is that all?" grinned Jack. "Well, you tell 'em to tell Mr. Bondifeller that I am too busy just at present to see him. You might tell him, too, that I haven't anything to add to what I said in my last letter. If he doesn't like that, the deal is off."

There was a considerable craning of necks in the neighboring chairs, for Jack had not thought to address his remarks to the lad in tones suggestive of a confidential communication. The boy staggered slightly on his feet, but managed to get away without dropping under the weight of such a message, and Jack, lying back in his chair, requested the barber to proceed.

"Bill is a great cat!" he chuckled.

"Beg pardon?" queried the barber.