I was kind of sorry he'd come. I hadn't been so chesty over Uncle Bill at the office; but here, where things are sort of quiet and classy—well, I could see where he wouldn't show up so strong. Besides, I hadn't made up my mind just how I was goin' to turn down his proposition.
I towed him in, though. He was glancin' around the room approvin', and makin' a few openin' remarks, when the folks come strollin' out from the dinin'-room. I glances up, and sees Mr. Ballard just as he's about to pass the door. So does Dorsett. And, say, the minute them two spots each other things sort of hung fire and stopped. Dorsett he breaks short off what he's sayin', and Mr. Ballard comes to a halt and stands starin' in the room. Next I know he's pushed in, and they're facin' each other.
"Pardon me, Sir," says Ballard, "but didn't you cross with me on the Lucania once? And weren't you thick with Dick Ballard?"
Course I could see something coming right then; but I didn't know what it was. Mr. Dorsett's shifty eyes take another look at Ballard, and then he hitches uneasy in his chair.
"Rather an odd coincidence, isn't it?" says he. "Yes, I was on board that trip."
"Then you're one of the men I've been looking for a good many years," says Ballard. "You knew Dick very well, didn't you? Then perhaps you can tell me who he left that boy of his with when he went West?"
"Why, yes," says Dorsett, smilin' fidgety. "He—er—the fact is, he left him with me."
"With you, eh?" says Ballard. "I might have guessed as much. Well, Sir, where's the boy now?"
"Wha-a-at?" gasps Dorsett, lookin' from me to Mr. Ballard. "Where, did you say?"
"Yes, Sir," comes back Ballard snappy. "Where?"