“Are you Mr. Dodge, or the son?” he said, with the utmost gravity.
The other was taken back by this unexpected method of opening the conversation. It annoyed him.
“I am the representative of the firm, sir, and fully able to deal with your business, whatever it may be,” he replied.
“No doubt. But it will simplify matters if I know exactly to whom I am addressing myself.”
After an uneasy shuffling in his seat—he could not guess what this keen-faced, earnest-eyed lawyer might want—the representative of Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) explained that he was Dodge, and the name of the firm had been adopted for general purposes.
“Then there is no ‘son,’ I take it.”
“Yes, there is, sir,”—this with a snort of anger.
“How old is he?”
“What the Dickens has that got to do with it? Will you kindly tell me what you want, sir, as my time is fully occupied?”
“Just now I want to know how old the ‘son’ is?”