bon. He had his napkin in one hand and half a dinner
roll in the other; so it didn't look like he meant to make any long
stop. He was actin' kind of dazed, too, like he hadn't got somethin'
clear in his mind, and he hung back as if he was expectin' some one to
hand out a bomb. But Whitey rushes him right up to Mallory.

"Here's the chap, Baron!" says he. "I couldn't let you go back to Russia
without shaking hands with the greatest quarterback America ever
produced. Mr. Mallory, Baron Kazedky," and then he winks at Mallory,
much as to say, "Now jump in!"

And say, Mallory was Johnny on the spot. He grabs Kazedky's flipper like
it was a life preserver.

"I--I--really, gentlemen, there's some mistake," says the Baron. "A
quarter what, did you say?"

"Oh," says Mallory, "that's some of Mr. Buck's tomfoolery--football
term, you know."

"But I am not interested in football," says the Baron, tryin' to back
towards the door, "not in the least."

"Me either," says Mallory, gettin' a new grip on him. "What I want to
talk to you about is steel. Now, I represent the Corrugated Trust, and
we----"

Well say, the old man himself couldn't have reeled it off better'n
Mallory. Why, he had it as letter perfect as a panhandler does his tale
about bein' in the hospital six weeks and havin' four hungry kids at
home. I only hears the start of it; for as soon as he got well under way
Mallory starts for the other end of the corridor, skatin' the little old
Baron along with him like he was a Third-ave. clothing store dummy that
was bein' hauled in at closin'-up time.

Whitey didn't even wait for the overture. The minute he hands Kazedky
over he fades towards the elevator. There's nothin' for me to do but
wait; so I picks out a red velvet chair and camps down on it to watch
the promenade. That's what it was, too; for Mallory acts like he'd
forgot everything he ever knew except that he's got to talk steel into
the Baron. I guess it was steel he was talkin'! Every time he passes me
I hear him ringin' in Corrugated, and drop forged, and a lot of things
like that.

Mallory has a right-arm hook on Kazedky and is makin' motions with his
left hand. Bein' so tall, he has to lean over to pump his speech into
the old fellow's ear; but every now and then he gets excited and, 'stead
of bendin' himself, he lifts the Baron clear off his feet.

About the third lap some of the gents from the private dinin'-room pokes
their heads out to see what's ha