Course that was proddin' him a little rough, but I wanted to bring this thing to a head somehow. Made Gilkey squirm in his chair too. He begins rollin' his trousers down over the bandages and struggles into his coat.
"I suppose you're right," says he. "I—I think I will go in and see Mr. Pulsifer."
"Wha-a-at?" says I. "Now?"
"Why not?" says he, pushin' through the swing door.
"Hey!" I calls out, jumpin' after him. "Better let me break it to 'em in there."
"As you please," says Gilkey; "only let's have no delay."
So I skips across the hall and into the lib'ry, where they're all makin' a stab at bein' chatty and gay, with Pa Pulsifer in the center.
"Excuse me," says I, "but there's a young gent wants a few words with Mr. Pulsifer."
"What's that?" growls Adam K., glarin' about suspicious at the gaspy circle. "What young man?"
"Why," says I, "it's——" But then in he stalks.