CHAPTER X
A CASE OF NOBODY HOME
"Yes," says J. Bayard Steele, adjustin' the chin part in his whiskers and tiltin' back comf'table in his chair, "I am beginning to think that the late Pyramid Gordon must have been a remarkably good judge of human nature."
"For instance?" says I.
"His selection of me as an executor of his whimsical will," says he.
"Huh!" says I. "How some people do dislike themselves! Now, if you want to know my views on that subject, J. B., I've always thought that was one of his battiest moves."
But he's got a hide like a sample trunk, Mr. Steele has. He only shrugs his shoulders. "Yes, you have given me similar subtle hints to that effect," says he. "And I will admit that at first I had doubts as to my fitness. The doing of kind and generous acts for utter strangers has not been a ruling passion with me. But so far I have handled several assignments—in which have I failed?"
"Look who's been coachin' you, though!" says I.
J. Bayard bows and waves a manicured hand graceful. "True," he goes on, "your advice has been invaluable on occasions, friend McCabe; especially in the early stages of my career as a commissioned agent of philanthropy. But I rather fancy that of late I have developed an altruistic instinct of my own; an instinct, if I may say so, in which kindly zeal is tempered by a certain amount of practical wisdom."
"Fine!" says I. "Bein' a little floral tribute, I take it, from Mr. Steele to himself."