There was a light in Tidball’s room as he crossed the corner of the Common, and as he looked a grotesque head showed in gigantic silhouette against the yellow curtain. Jack ran up the stairs and knocked at his neighbor’s door.
“Come in!” drawled the occupant of the western chamber, and Jack entered on a scene that caused him to pause just inside the door and stare in silent surprise.
[CHAPTER VI]
IN DISGRACE
Anthony Tidball confronted Jack with a pewter spoon in one hand and a small tin coffee-pot in the other. He was in his shirt-sleeves and a bath-towel was fastened around his neck, descending in wispy folds to his knees. On one end of the study table a second towel was laid, and upon it rested a plate of bread, a jar of preserves, a wedge of cheese, a can of condensed milk, a bowl of sugar, and cellars containing salt and pepper. Besides these Jack saw a plate appropriately surrounded by knife, fork, and spoon, and flanked by a cup and saucer. There was a perceptible, and not ungrateful, odor of cooking present. [Anthony waved the coffee-pot hospitably], but carefully, toward the rocking-chair.
[Anthony waved the coffee-pot hospitably.]
“Hello, Weatherby,” he said. “Sit down.”
“Wha—what are you doing?” gasped Jack.