"Oh!" says I. "Mister Mallory?"
"There now, Dicky!" says she, pokin' him with her elbow and touchin' off another giggle. "Didn't I tell you?"
"He-haw!" says Dicky. "Mister Mallory, of course."
But I didn't feel he-hawy a bit; for it was up to me to tow Mallory's swell college chum and his sister in where the boy was jugglin' the file cases. And them lookin' for him to be sittin' in a swing chair with his name painted big on the door! That was when I dug up my fool thought.
"Cards!" says I. "I'll see if Mr. Mallory's got through consultin' with the general manager."
"Oh!" gurgles Sis. "Doesn't that sound business like, though? I suppose Skid—er—Mr. Mallory is quite a busy man, isn't he?"
"Busy," says I. "Say, you don't think he has all of us around here to play marbles, do you, miss?"
Sis, she gets mighty int'rested at that. "He's a very important man now, isn't he?" says she.
"Chee, yes!" says I. "He's I-double-it around here."
"Isn't that fine?" says Sis. "But I hope he can see us."