believe. Oh, you've
heard of it, eh? Not in the market? Not for sale? Well, I'll buy it. Oh,
yes, you can--what d' you suppose is his figure? So much? Phew! Oh,
well, double it. No, I'm not mad, Anderson. No, nor drunk--I just happen
to want Mulligan's--and I'll have it. When can you put the deal through?
Oh, nonsense, make him sell at once--get him on the 'phone. Oh, yes, he
will, if you offer enough--Mulligan would sell his mother--at his own
price. You quite understand--at once, mind! All right, good-by. No, I'm
not mad--nor drunk, man; I haven't tasted a cocktail for a month. Eh--go
and get one? I will!"

So saying, Ravenslee hung up the receiver and hastened out of the
stifling heat of the suffocating booth, mopping perspiring brow.

"You look kinder warm!" ventured the chemist.

"I feel it."

"And it's going to be warmer. Try an ice-cream soda--healthy and
invigorating."

"And better than any cocktail on such a day!"

"I guess! Take one?"

"Thank you, yes."

So the bright-eyed chemist mixed the beverage and handed it over the
counter.

"Chin-chin!" he nodded.

"Twice," said Ravenslee, lifting the long glass. "To the Beautiful City
of Perhaps!" and he drank deep.

"Say," said the chemist, staring, "that sounds t' me like a touch of the
sun. Try a bottle of my summer mixture, good for sunstroke, heat-bumps,
colic, spasms, and Hell's Kitchen generally--try a bottle?"

"Thanks," said Ravenslee, "I will." And grimly pocketing the bottled
panacea, he stepped out into the hot and noisy avenue.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW SPIKE HEARKENED TO POISONOUS SUGGESTION AND SOAPY BEGAN TO WONDER

Spike was on his way from the office, very conscious of his new straw
hat and immaculate collar; his erstwhile shabby suit had been cleaned
and pressed by Hermione's skilled and loving fingers, hence Spike turned
now and then as he passed some shop window to observe the general effect
with furtive eye; and stimulated by his unwontedly smart appearance, he
whistled joyously as he betook himself homeward. Moreover in his breast
pocket was his pay envelope, not very bulky to be sure, wherein lay his
first week's wages, and as often as he turned to glance at the tilt of
the straw hat or heed the set of his tie, his hand must needs steal to
this envelope to make sure of its safety. His fingers were so employed
when he chanced to espy a certain article exposed for sale in an
adjacent shop window; whereupon, envelope in hand