“Found gum on floor this morning when I arrived.
MALCOLM DORR.”
Then he recalled his own blank, tore it up, and substituted the following, which he ordered “rushed”:
MALCOLM DORR, STENGEL BUILDING, NEW YORY CITY:
“Leave office immediately. Do not return until it has been fumigated thoroughly. Imperative.
A. V. R. JONES.”
“And now,” said Average Jones to Mr. Fleming, “I’m going back to New York. If any collectors come chasing to you for luna moths, don’t deal with them. Refer them to me, please. Here is my card.”
“Your orders shall be obeyed,” said the older man, his beady eyes twinkling. “But why, in the name of all that’s unheard of, should collectors come bothering me about luna moths?”
“Because of an announcement to this effect which will appear in the next number of the National Science Weekly, and in coming issues of the New York Evening Register.”
He handed out a rough draft of this advertisement:
“For Sale—Two largest known specimens of Tropaea luna, unmounted; respectively 10 and 11½ inches spread. Also various other specimens from collection of late Gerald Moseley, of Conn. Write for particulars. Jones, Room 222 Astor Court Temple, New York.”
“What about further danger here?” inquired Mr. Fleming, as Average Jones bade him good-by. “Would we better run that warning of poor Moseley’s, after all?”
For reply Jones pointed out the window. A late season whirl of snow enveloped the streets.