load a few old grads on the runnin' board and go off for a joy
ride.

But after the old man had spent the cost of a new machine in police court
fines and repairs, even this little diversion was yanked away. The last
broken axle had done the business, and the nearest Dyke could come to
real enjoyment was when he had the price to charter a pink taxi and
inspire the chauffeur with highballs enough so he'd throw her wide open
on the way back.

Not bein' responsible for Dyke, I didn't mind having him around. I kind
of enjoyed the cheerful way he had of tellin' about the fam'ly boycott on
him, and every time I thinks of Aunt Elvira still havin' him framed up
for a comer in the Bishop class, I has to smile.

You see, having gone so far with their fairy tales, the Mallorys never
got a chance to hedge; and, accordin' to Dyke, they was all scared stiff
for fear she'd dig up the facts some day, and make a new will leavin' her
rentroll to the foreign missions society.

Maybe it was because I took more or less interest in him, but perhaps it
was just because he wanted company and I happened to be handy; anyway,
here the other afternoon Dyke comes poundin' up the stairs two at a time,
rushes into the front office, and grabs me by the arm.

"Come on, Shorty!" says he. "Something fruity is on the schedule."

"Hope it don't taste like a lemon," says I. "What's the grand rush?"

"Aunt Elvira is coming down, and she's called for me," says Dyke,
grinnin' wide. "She must suspect something; for she sent word that if I
wasn't on hand this time she'd never come again. What do you think of
that?"

"Aunty's got a treat in store for her, eh?" says I, givin' Dyke the
wink.

"I should gurgle!" says he. "I'm good and tired of this fake Bishop
business, and if I don't jolt the old lady out of that nonsense, I'm a
duffer. You can help some, I guess. Come on."

Well, I didn't exactly like the idea of mixin' up with a fam'ly surprise
party like that; but Dyke is so anxious for me to go along, and he gets
me so curious to see what'll happen at the reunion, that I fin'lly grabs
my coat and hat, and out we trails.

It seems that Aunt Elvira is due at the Grand Central. Never having tried
the subway, she's come to town just as she used to thirty years ago:
drivin' to Kingsbridge station, and takin' a Harlem river local down. We
finds the whole fam'ly, includin' Mr. and Mrs. Craig Mallory, and their
two married daughters, waitin' outside the ga