"Stupid of me," admits Vincent. "I will—"
"Better let me soothe him down now," says I. "Then I'll get Old Hickory on the 'phone and tell him who's here."
I will say that I did it in my best private sec. style, too, urgin' him into the private office while I explains how the boy on the gate couldn't have read the name right and assurin' him I'd get word to Mr. Ellins at once.
"He's only having a conference with his attorneys," says I. "I think he'll be up very, soon. Just a moment while I get him on the wire, Mr. Dowd."
"Thank you, young man," says Matthew K. "I—I rather would like to see Ellins today, if I could."
"Why, sure!" says I, easin' him into Old Hickory's swing chair.
But somehow when I'd slipped out to the 'phone booth and got in touch with the boss he don't seem so anxious to rush up and meet his old side kick. No. He's more or less calm about it.
"Eh?" says he. "Dowd? Oh, yes! Well, you just tell him, Torchy, that I'm tied up here and can't say when I'll be through. He'd better not wait."
"Excuse me, Mr. Ellins," says I, "but he's been here twice before. Seems to have something on his mind that—well, might be important, you know."
"Yes, it might be," says Old Hickory, and I couldn't tell whether he threw in a snort or a chuckle right there. "And since you think it is, Torchy, perhaps you'd better get him to sketch it out to you."