Can you keep ’em guessin’ long, when it comes to things of that kind? Not if they’re like Sadie.
CHAPTER XV
THE CASE OF THE TISCOTTS
What I had on the slate for this part’cular afternoon was a brisk walk up Broadway as far as the gasoline district and a little soothin’ conversation with Mr. Cecil Slattery about the new roadster he’s tryin’ to Paladino me into placin’ my order for. I’d just washed up and was in the gym. giving my coat a few licks with the whisk broom, when Swifty Joe comes tiptoein’ in, taps me on the shoulder, and points solemn into the front office.
“That’s right,” says I, “break it to me gentle.”
“Get into it quick!” says he, grabbin’ the coat.
“Eh?” says I. “Fire, police, or what?”
“S-s-sh!” says he. “Lady to see you.”