“Well, I’m very sorry, but I can’t, for the life of me, think of the name of the man who took that old chair,” declared the dealer. “But if it was a spinning wheel now, or something in Mission, I could——”
“Come on, fellows,” interrupted Tom, sadly. “I—I guess we don’t want anything to-day.”
“Now I’ve got a real gem in Louis the Fourteenth,” went on the man eagerly.
“No,” said Phil, decidedly.
“Or early Flemish.”
“Nothing doing,” declared Sid.
“Or a Colonial sideboard and a warming pan—a warming pan is dead swell in the room of a college lad.”
“No, we don’t——” began Tom.
“Let’s jolly him along,” whispered Frank Simpson. “We want to get on the trail of that Hebrew. Now if we buy—say, a warming pan, of this man, he may give us more information.”
“Right!” whispered Tom, eagerly. “Why didn’t I think of it myself? Of course! We do need a warming pan,” he went on, winking at Phil and Sid, who at first thought their chum was out of his mind. “Now if we could get a nice copper one, pretty good sized, it might do in place of the chair.”