finally Mr. Robert blows in from
the club. First chance I gets, I springs Rupert on him.

"A guy with a great little scheme," says I, winkin'. "If you can spare
ten minutes he'll tell you something worth while, so he says."

"Very well," says Mr. Robert. "But ten minutes must be the limit."

Say, it was rich, too, watchin' Mr. Robert's face as he listens to this
weird tale of pirates and buried gold. First off he was tryin' to be
polite, and only smiled sarcastic; but when Rupert gets to spreadin' on
the romance, Mr. Robert starts drummin' his fingers on the desk and
glancin' at his watch.

Right in the midst of the recital, too, Old Hickory drifts out of his
private office, and stands waitin' with his ear cocked. He has a
report or something he wants to ask a question about, and I was lookin'
every minute to see him crash right in. But Rupert is in high gear,
and goin' stronger all the while; so Mr. Ellins just stands there and
listens. The Cap. had got to the part where he describes this
mysterious island with the mound in the middle, when Mr. Robert shrugs
his shoulders impatient.

"My good fellow," says he, "whatever gave you the notion I would be
interested in such rubbish? Sorry, but your time is up. Torchy, will
you show Mr.--er--what's-his-name to the elevator?"

Which I did as comfortin' as I knew how. Course, he's feelin' some
hurt at bein' choked off so abrupt, but he takes it calm enough.

"Oh, well," says he, "perhaps I can find someone else who will
appreciate that this is the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Sure you can," says I. "Broadway's just lined with willin' ears."

I'd loaded him into an elevator and was strollin' through the
waitin'-room, when Old Hickory comes paddin' out as slinky as a man of
his weight can.

"Young man," says he, "where is that Captain person?"

"About the tenth floor by now, sir," says I.

"Bring him back," says Mr. Ellins, sharp and snappy. "Through the
private entrance. Understand?"

I nods and makes a dive into an upbound car that's just makin' a stop
at the seventeenth. "Hey, Jimmy, reverse her! I'll square you with
the starter. That's it. Shoot us down."

So, when Rupert steps out on the ground floor, I'm there to take him by
the arm and lead him back into the elevator.

"Why--why, what's the matter now?" he asks.

"Couldn't say," says I. "Only you're wanted again. It's the Big Boss
this time--Old Hickory Ellins himself. And lemme pu