?" says I.

"Robert K. Rankin is the young man's name, I believe," says he,--"son of
the late Loring Rankin, president of the Consolidated----"

"That's Bobby Brut," says I. "Don't catch onto the Brut, eh? You would if
you read the champagne labels. Friend of yours, is he?"

But right there the Rev. Mr. Hooker turns balky. He hints that his
business with Bobby is private and personal, and he ain't anxious to lay
it before a third party. He'd told 'em the same at the desk, when someone
from Bobbie's rooms had 'phoned for details about the card, and then he'd
got the turn down. But he wa'n't the kind that stayed down. He's goin' to
see Mr. Rankin or bu'st. Not wantin' to ask for the elevator, he blazes
ahead up the stairs; and Danny, it seems, hadn't got on his track until
he was well started.

"All I ask," says he, "is five minutes of Mr. Rankin's time. That is not
an unreasonable request, I hope?"

"Excuse me," says I; "but you're missin' the point by a mile. It ain't
how long you want to stay, but what you're here for. You got to remember
that things is run different on Fifth-ave. from what they are on
Penrose-st., Mossy Dell. You might be a book agent, or a bomb thrower,
for all the folks at the desk know. So the only way to get next to anyone
here is to show your hand and take the decision. Now if you want to try
runnin' the outside guard again, I'll call Danny back. But you'll make a
mess of it."

He thinks that over for a minute, lookin' me square in the eye all the
time, and all of a sudden he puts out his hand. "You're right," says he.
"I was hot headed, and let my zeal get the better of my commonsense.
Thank you, Mr. McCabe."

"That's all right," says I. "You go down to the office and put your case
to 'em straight."

"No," says he, shruggin' his shoulders, "that wouldn't do at all. I
suppose I've come on a fool's errand. Kronacher, we'll go back."

"That's too bad," says I, "if you had business with Bobby that was on the
level."

"Since you've been so kind," says he, "perhaps you would give me your
opinion--if I am not detaining you?"

"Spiel away!" says I. "I'll own up you've got me some interested."

Well, say, when he'd described his visit as a dippy excursion, he wa'n't
far off. Seems that this Rev. Sam Hooker ain't a reg'lar preacher, with a
stained glass window church, a steam heated parsonage, and a settled job.
He's sort of a Gospel promoter, that goes around plantin' churches here
and the