"Eh?" says he, whirlin' and snappin' his jaws.
"N-n-no, Sir," says I, sidesteppin' behind a chair.
"That's right," says he. "Dodge and squirm as if I was a wild animal. That's what they all do. What are you afraid of, Boy?"
"Me?" says I. "Why, I'm havin' the time of my life. I don't mind. It only sounds natural and homelike. And it's mostly bluff, ain't it, Mr. Ellins?"
"Discovered!" says he. "Ah, the merciless perspicacity of youth! But don't tell the others. And put those papers on my desk."
"Yes, Sir," says I, and after I've spread 'em out I backs into the bay window and sits down.
"Well, what are you doing there?" says he.
"Waiting orders," says I. "Any errands, Mr. Ellins?"
"Errands?" says he. Then, after thinkin' a second, he raps out, "Yes. Do you see that collection of bottles and pills and glasses on the table? Enough to stock a young drugstore! And I've been pouring that truck into my system by wholesale,—the pink tablets on the half-hour, the white ones on the quarter, a spoonful of that purple liquid on the even hour, two of the greenish mixtures on the odd, and getting worse every day. Bah! I haven't the courage to do it myself, but by the blue-belted blazes if—— See here, Boy! You're waiting orders, you say?"
"Uh-huh!" says I.