“I’ve my doubts whether you’re quite large enough for the job you’ve undertaken.”
“You’re a pessimist.”
Overman’s face brightened and his mouth twisted.
“Yes, the more I see of men, the more stock I take in chickens. I’ve a rooster at home now that can whip anything that ever wore feathers, and he’s so ugly I love him like a brother.”
“Shut up about roosters,” Gordon growled. “Will you come to see me and meet my wife?”
Overman turned his eye on his friend, frowning.
“Frank, I’m afraid of the atmosphere. There’s enough dynamite in ‘Freedom and Fellowship’ to blow up several houses. I don’t like to get mixed up with women in any sort of fellowship—to say nothing about freedom and fellowship.”
“Well, I’ve asked my wife to call by the bank here for me to-day and I’m going to introduce you.”
Overman did not hear this statement, for his head was turned to one side and he was peering out of his window on Broad Street with excited interest.
He sprang to his feet, suddenly exclaiming: