“Now hold on,” he asked. “Just what do you mean by that word ‘institution?’”
“Why you’re one of the landmarks here,” explained Druce, “the same as the bank or the opera house.” He brushed the lapel of Harvey’s coat with his gloved hand and straightened his collar. Then he soberly removed Harvey’s straw hat, fingered it into grotesque lines and replaced it on his head. He stepped back to observe the effect, adding satirically: “I’ll bet you won’t stay long in this jay town.”
“You’re dead right there,” boasted Harvey. “Millville is all right and a rising place but—”
“I knew it,” said Druce gravely. “You’ll be coming up to Chicago to show Marshall Field how to run his store.”
“Well, I may—” began Harvey proudly.
“Oh!” Elsie’s voice was pained. “Don’t do that, Mr. Druce!” Then she turned to Spencer. “Why do you let him make a joke of you?”
“Who? Me?” Harvey looked at her in astonishment. He turned to Druce savagely. “Say,” he demanded, “are you trying to kid me?”
“Not on your life,” was the reply. “I knew better than to try to kid a wise young man like you. What I’m trying to say is that you’re too big for this town. Say, what’s your ambition?”
“Oh, I’ve got one, Mr. Druce. I’m going to be a detective.”
“Well, there’s lots of room for a real one in Chicago,” said Druce, suppressing a contemptuous smile.