'No. Rust is neither confidential, nor communicative,' replied Kornicker. 'So, what you've got to say say in writing. I don't want the trouble of thinking about it, or trying to recollect it.'
'Humph!' said Harson. 'There's nothing here requiring a great stretch of either. He wants me to meet him at his office, on very particular business; a request somewhat singular, as I never laid eyes on him in my life.'
'Quite singular,' ejaculated Kornicker.
'But I know much about him; and that leaves me no desire to be more intimate with him. What do you think of it?'
'I think you're in luck,' replied the other; 'you're the first that ever was asked inside the door since I've been there. Several very nice, pleasant fellows of my acquaintance, have dropped in occasionally, and although his office is nothing to brag of, d—n me if he didn't invite them to air themselves in the street, and not to come back! It was quite mortifying, especially as I was there at the time.'
'What did you do?' inquired Harson.
'You've never seen Rust, you say?' said Kornicker, in reply to the previous question.
Harson answered in the negative.
'Well, Sir, if you had, you wouldn't ask that question. I looked out of the window, and held my jaw—that's what I did; and that's what I'd advise you to do in the same trying circumstances. But come, Sir, give me the answer.'
Harson, after a moment's thought, said: 'It isn't worth while to write. Tell him I'll come, or send some one. You can remember that?'