"Yes, I know," says he. "It was you helped me too, and I wish in some way I could show my——"
"You can," says I. "Leave me the cornet. I might need it some day myself."
CHAPTER XI
THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY
It's a shame the way some of these popular clubmen is bothered with business. Here was Mr. Robert, only the other day, with an important four-cue match to be played off between four-thirty and dinnertime; and what does the manager of our Chicago branch have to do but go and muss up the schedule by wirin' in that he might have to call for headquarters' advice on that Burlington order maybe after closin' time.
"Oh, pshaw!" remarks Mr. Robert, after he's read the message.
"The simp!" says I. "Guess he thinks the Corrugated gen'ral offices runs night and day shifts, don't he?"
"Very well put," says Mr. Robert. "Still, it means rather a big contract. But, you see, the fellows are counting on me for this match, and if I should—— Oh, but I say, Torchy," he breaks off sudden, "perhaps you have no very important engagement for the early evening?"
"Me?" says I. "Nothing I couldn't scratch. I can shoot a little pool too; but when it comes to balk line billiards I expect I'd be a dub among your crowd."