Recklessly he forced the money into the man's not altogether inhospitable palm.
"For being a good little tight-mouth," he explained gravely.
"Forever and ever, amen!" protested the latter fervently. "And thank you!"
"If you're satisfied, we're quits," returned P. Sybarite, offering a hand to the boy.
"I can manage," protested this last, descending without assistance. "And it's better so," he explained as they crossed to the door; "I don't want the hallboys here to suspect—and I can hold up a few minutes longer, never fear."
"Business of taking off my hat to you," said P. Sybarite in unfeigned admiration; "for pure grit, you're a young wonder."
A liveried hallboy opened the door. A second waited in the elevator. Promptly ascending, they were set down at one of the upper floors.
Throughout the boy carried himself with never a quiver, his countenance composed and betraying what pain he suffered only to eyes keen to discern its trace of pallor. Now as he left the elevator and fitted a key to the lock of his private front door, he addressed the attendant, over his shoulder, in a manner admirably casual:
"By the way, Jimmy—"
"Sir?"