“I know; there’s no harm done. Only, if there are any squalls, Tracy, you take your friends and get into a cellar somewhere until they’ve blown over,” said Joe suggestively.
“Oh, I’m not scared!” Tracy replied, laughing uneasily. “I’ll stand by you.”
“All right,” answered Joe gravely. “That’ll be safest.”
There came a knock at the door, and Joe shouted, “Come in!” When he saw who his caller was he arose from the window-seat and stepped forward.
“How are you, Weatherby? Want to see me?”
“Yes, if you have a minute to spare.” Jack looked calmly at the occupant of the Morris chair, and Joe understood.
“Certainly,” he answered. “Sit down.” Then, “I don’t like to put you out, old man,” he said, turning to Tracy, who had so far made no move toward withdrawing, “but I guess I’ll have to ask you to excuse me a moment.”
“That’s all right,” replied Tracy, lazily pulling himself out of his seat and staring insolently at the newcomer. “I’m a bit particular, anyway.” He lounged to the door, carefully avoiding contact with Jack. “See you in the morning,” he added. “So long.”
When the door had closed, Joe glanced at the caller, instinctively framing an apology for the insult. But Jack’s countenance gave no indication that he had even heard it. Joe marveled and pointed to a chair.
“Sit down, won’t you?” he asked politely.