"Where?"
"To my place."
"It's been locked up for over a year, hasn't it?"
"Yes, but there's a janitor——"
"Come down to Oyster Bay with me," urged Inwood; "come on, Jim, and forget your troubles over Sunday."
"As for my troubles," returned the other, rising with a shrug and pulling on his gloves, "I've had leisure on the ocean to classify and pigeonhole the lot of them. I know exactly what I'm going to do, and I'm going home to begin it."
"Begin what?" inquired Inwood with a curiosity entirely friendly.
"I'm going to find out," said Edgerton, "whether any of what my friends have called my 'talents' are real enough to get me a job worth three meals a day, or whether they'll merely procure for me the hook."
"What are you thinking of trying?"
"I don't know exactly. I thought of turning some one of my parlor tricks into a future profession—if people will let me."