"Oh!" says he. "Thank you very much," and he starts to trot out. He has his hand on the knob, when a new thought comes to him. He tiptoes back to the gate, pries off one of the ear muffs, and leans over real confidential. "I didn't quite understand," says he. "Did you say Cousin Robert's was the third door?"
"Chee!" says I. "Willie, take off the other one, so you can get a good healthy circulation through the belfry."
The words seemed to daze him some; but he tumbled to my motions and unstoppered his south ear.
"Now," says I, "what's this about your Cousin Bob? Where'd you lose him?"
Watcher think, though? I gets it out of him that he's come all the way from Bubble Creek, Michigan, and is lookin' for Mr. Robert Ellins. With that I lets him through, plants him in a chair, and goes in to the boss.
"Say," says I to Mr. Robert, "there's a guy, outside that's just floated in from the breakfast food belt and is callin' for Cousin Robert. Here's his card."
"Why, that must be Clifford!" says he.
"Then it's true, is it, the cousin business?" says I.
"Certainly it is, Torchy," says he. "Why not?"
"Oh, nothin'," says I. "I wouldn't have thought it, though."