The particular information of which he stood in immediate need was Leslie Underwood's address. He opened the city directory and turned to the U's. There were a dozen Underwoods,--a baker, a banker, a coal heaver, a doctor, a merchant,--where did Miss Leslie belong?
"Have you a Blue Book?" he asked the lazy-looking attendant.
"Naw."
"Anything with ladies' addresses?--a society list, you know."
"Naw."
"I want to get the address of Miss Leslie Underwood," Burton went on, with grim patience. "And I don't want to waste time. Can you suggest how I can find it?"
The attendant had tipped down his uptilted chair so abruptly that it cracked. He was looking at Burton with lively curiosity and amusement.
"You a friend of Dr. Underwood's?"
"Miss Underwood belongs to the doctor's family then, does she?"
"Sure. You coming to visit, or are you going to write him up?"