only try you made?"

"No, I sent up my card twice after that," says he, "and it came back. So
I've flunked. I think I'd better go down in the morning and resign."

Now wouldn't that rust you?

"Then here goes the books," says I, chuckin' 'em into the corner. "If
doin' the knowledge stunt leaves you with a backbone like a piece of
boiled spaghetti, I'm through."

That makes Mallory sit up as if I'd jabbed him with a pin. "Do I seem
that way to you?" says he.

"You don't think you're givin' any weight-liftin' exhibition, do you?"
says I.

He lets that trickle through for a minute or so, and then he comes back
to life. "Torchy," says he, "you're right. I'm acting like a quitter.
But I don't mean to let go just yet. Hanged if I don't try to see that
man to-night, now, as quick as I can get down there! He's got to see me,
by Jove!"

"There's more sense to that than anything else you've said in a week,"
says I. "Wish I could be there to hold your hat."

"Why not?" says he. "Come on. I may need fresh inspiration."

"Whatever I gives you'll be fresh, all right," says I; "but if I was
you, and was goin' to butt into any Fifth-ave. hotel along about
dinner-time, I'd wear the regalia. Yours ain't in on a ticket, is it?"

It wa'n't. Mallory had to go clear to the bottom of the trunk after it;
but when he'd shook out the wrinkles and got himself inside the view was
worth while. After he's blown up his op'ra hat and got out his stick you
couldn't tell him from a three times winner.

"Chee!" says I. "You've got Silent Smith tied to a post. If you acts
like you look, you don't need me."

He wouldn't have it that way, though. I'd got to go along and be ready
to give him any points I thought of. We goes in a cab, too, in over the
rubber mats to the carriage door, just like we'd come to hire the royal
suite.

"The Baron Kazedky," says Mallory, shovin' his card across at the near
plute behind the desk.

Then the cold wave begun comin' our way. Mister Baron was out. Nobody
knew where he'd gone. He hadn't left any word. And he didn't receive
callers after four P.M., anyway. Mallory was gettin' his breath after
stoppin' them body blows, when I pushes in.

"Say, Sir Wally," says I, leanin' over towards the clerk and speakin'
confidential, "lemme give you somethin' from the inside. If Kazedky
misses seein' Mr. Mallory to-night, you'll be called up to-morrow to
hear some Russian language that'll take all the crimp out of that