Pitman drew himself up. "Don't you dare to touch him."
We were beginning to attract attention, so I settled the matter by leading the way across the room to the further corner, where there was an empty table. We sat down, and, taking the turkey out of the basket, Pitman proceeded to prop it up in the vacant chair, to the intense interest and joy of the people at the surrounding tables. The waiter whose duty it was to attend to us entered into the spirit of the joke, his sense of humour being probably quickened by a prophetic instinct with regard to our financial value.
"Dinner for three, sir?" he inquired.
Pitman examined the menu with some deliberation, and settled upon a satisfactory little programme. He is acquainted with my weaknesses.
"My other friend," he said, pointing to the turkey, "will begin with a little thick soup."
At this point the manager of the restaurant arrived.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I'm afraid I must request you to remove that bird," he began in a firm but apologetic tone. "The other ladies and gentlemen, you know, sir——"
This put Pitman on his dignity.
"If they object to my friends I will leave the restaurant," he replied.
A genial-looking man at the next table here joined in the conversation.