“A Mr. Wilkins, living on Lexington Avenue.”
“May I come too?” asked Snodgrass, who was by no means bashful.
“I don’t feel at liberty to invite you, Mr. Snodgrass.”
“I don’t seem to see anything of you lately,” grumbled Sylvanus. “You were away last evening.”
“Yes, I was with Mr. Wilkins.”
“He seems to have cut me out,” said Mr. Snodgrass, displaying some jealousy.
“It is because I have a little business with him,” explained Ben.
“Ha! business? What kind of business?”
“I may be able to tell you to-morrow.”
“It seems there is a mystery,” said the novelist, not half pleased.