"Bah!" says Clyde, bangin' the taxi door shut and signalin' the chauffeur to get under way. I think I saw him shakin' his fist back at me as he drives off. So rough of him!
Upstairs I finds Auntie all in a flutter and tryin' to hide it. Vee looks at me inquirin' and anxious, but I chats on for a while just as if nothing had happened. Somehow, I was enjoyin' watchin' Auntie squirm. My mistake was in forgettin' that Vee was fidgety, too. No sooner has Auntie left the room, to send Helma scoutin' down to the front door, than I'm reminded.
"Ouch!" says I. Vee sure can pinch when she tries. I decides to report.
"Oh; by the way," says I, as Auntie comes back, "I just ran across Mr. Creighton."
"Yes?" says Auntie eager.
"He wasn't feelin' quite himself," says I. "Sudden attack of something or other. He didn't say exactly. But I expect that concert excursion is scratched."
"Scratched!" says Auntie, lookin' dazed.
"Canceled," says I. "Anyway, he went off in a hurry."
"But—but he-was to have—" And there she stops.
"I know," says I. "Maybe he'll explain later, though."