"Come in," said Nickel Plate in a deep bass voice, the one he kept for strangers.
The door popped open and in ran—yes, he really ran—a messenger boy. And such a messenger boy, such bright, quick eyes, such a clean face and hands, not even a high water line on his neck and wrists, such twinkling feet and such a well brushed uniform! Why you would hardly believe he was a messenger boy if you saw him, he was such an active little fellow.
"Did you ring, sir?" said Billy Bounce.
"Sh-h-h, not so loud," whispered Nickel Plate mysteriously—the whisper he kept for strangers. "Yes, I rang."
"Very well, sir, I am here."
"Ah-h," hummed Bumbus. "Are you here, are you there, do you really truly know it? Have a care, have a care."
"Excuse me, sir," said Billy bewildered, "I don't think I understand you."
"Neither do I," said Bumbus. "Nobody does. I'm a mystery."
"Mr. who?" said Billy.