“Come in!”
Starling Meyer turned from the window in Number 17 and faced the door. Ernest Barnes, Star’s roommate, looked up from his book and glanced curiously in the same direction as the portal opened briskly to admit Jimmy Logan. It lacked but a few minutes of study hour and Jimmy, with the door of the next room slightly ajar, had made certain of Star’s return before starting on his errand. Beyond the partition—there was a connecting door between the rooms, but that was never opened—Dud was dubiously awaiting Jimmy’s report.
“Oh,” said Star eloquently as Jimmy advanced jauntily enough but with a most sober countenance into the radius of light from the study table. “Hello, Logan, what do you want?”
Barnes’ greeting was just a nod, civil but not enthusiastic, and having made it he went back to his book.
“Hello, fellows,” said Jimmy. “Mind if I sit down, Meyer?”
“Help yourself.” Star eyed the caller suspiciously. “This is an unexpected honor,” he added sarcastically.
Jimmy nodded. “Yes, isn’t it? Fact is, I’m on a painful errand, Meyer. Mind if I speak before Barnes?”
“Oh, cut the comedy, Logan,” replied Star impatiently. “What nonsense are you up to, anyway?”
“No nonsense at all, really,” Jimmy assured him earnestly. “It’s like this, Meyer. I’m here on behalf of my friend, Baker. You see, he isn’t just satisfied with the way things were left this afternoon. He feels that—er—the matter ought to be settled more—er—more definitely. See what I mean?”