“Yesterday morning, when you came into my office, young Percy Chamberlain, secretary for the resident manager of the British and North American Fire Insurance Company, was there talking to Miss Kitson, my stenographer. Just as you stepped up to her desk he remarked that he was the last remaining member of his family, whereupon you said you read in the morning paper that the lobster was becoming extinct. And I suppose you wondered why Chamberlain left the office in a huff. You’re a peach!”
Jack grinned.
“Percy makes me tired,” he said. “He’s always dropping in and bothering our typewriter with his silly remarks, so I make a point of giving a shot where I can.”
There was a twinkle in Hartz’s eye.
“Ever take a flyer on the market?” he asked, suddenly.
“Once.”
“When was that?”
“Couple of weeks ago.”
“How did you come out?”
“Ahead.”