“Well, I can’t help it,” says she. “I’m not going to be bothered with Jeremiah to-day. I’ve got two sick cats to attend to.”
“Cats!” says I. “Say, what do you——”
“Oh, hush up!” says she. “Do anything you like with him!” And hanged if she don’t bang up the receiver at that, and leave me standin’ there at my end of the wire lookin’ silly.
“Talk about your freak plutes,” says I to Tutwater, after I’ve explained the situation, “if this ain’t the limit! Look what I’ve got on my hands now!”
Tutwater, he’s standin’ there gazin’ hard at old Jerry Fargo, his eyes shinin’ and his thought works goin’ at high pressure speed. All of a sudden he slaps me on the back and grips me by the hand. “Professor,” says he, “I have it! There is Opportunity!”
“Eh?” says I. “Old Jerry? How?”
“I shall cure him—restore his mind, make him normal,” says Tutwater.
“What do you know about brushin’ out batty lofts?” says I.
“Nothing at all,” says he; “but I can find someone who does. You’ll give me Fargo, won’t you?”
“Will I?” says I. “I’ll advance you twenty to take him away, and charge it up to him. But what’ll you do with him?”