She says it loud enough to be heard around on Broadway, and I looks to see how the old boy takes it; but he keeps right on beamin' mild and sort of curious at the crowds pushin' in. It was them calm, gentle old blue eyes of his, gazin' steady, like he was lookin' for someone, that caught me. First thing, I knew he was smilin' folksy straight at me, and liftin' one hand hesitatin', as if he wanted to give me the hail.
"Well, old scout?" says I, haltin' on the first step.
"Excuse me, Neighbor," says he, drawlin' it out deep and soft, "but be yo' goin' in thayah?"
"I don't say it boastin'," says I, "but that was the intention."
"We-e-e-ell," he drawls, half chucklin', half sing-songy, "I wisht I could get you to kind of look around for a young fellah in thayah,—sort of a well favored, upstandin' young man, straight as a cornstalk, and with his front haiah a little wavy. Would you?"
"I might find fifty that would answer to that description," says I.
"No, Suh, I reckon not," says he, waggin' his noble old head. "Not fifty like him, nor one! He'll have his chin up, Suh, and there'll be a twinkle in his brown eyes you can't mistake."
"Maybe so," says I. "I'll scout around a bit. And if I find him, what then?"
"Jes' give him the word, Neighbor," says he, "that Uncle Noah's a waitin' outside, wantin' to see him a minute when he gets through. He'll understand, Robin will."
"Eh?" says I. "Robin who?"