"I know," says I. "Someone's told you that the Panama Canal's full of water."
"No, no!" says he. "It—it's about me. Just happened, you know. And really I must tell someone."
I had a choky sensation in my throat about then, and my breath came a little short; but I managed to get out husky, "Well, toss it over."
Westy beams grateful. "Isn't it wonderful?" says he. "I—I've got her!"
"Eh?" I gasps, grippin' a chair back.
"She just told me," says he, "in there. She's—she's wearing my ring now."
Got me right under the belt buckle, that did. I felt wabbly and dizzy for a second, and I expect I gawps at him open faced. Then I takes a brace. Had to. I don't know how well I did it either, or how convincin' it sounded, but I found myself shakin' him by the mitt and sayin': "Congratulations, Westlake. You—you've got a girl worth gettin', believe me!"
"Thanks awfully, old man," says he, still pumpin' my arm up and down. "I can hardly realize it myself. Awfully bad case I had, you know. And now, while I have the courage, I suppose I'd best see her mother."
"Wha-a-at?" says I, starin' at him.
"I know," says he, "it isn't being done much nowadays, but somehow I think I ought. You know I haven't even met Mrs. Ull as yet."