bows and says he's
much obliged. You couldn't blame him for feelin' cut up, either; for
it's all clear how the Senator has doped out an appeal for help within
thirty days, and is willin' to wait for the call. I'm no shark on the
cost of livin' myself; but even I could figure out a deficit. There's a
call to dinner just then, though, and we all gathers round the stew.

Anyway, it was meant for a lamb stew. The potatoes was some hard, the
gravy was so thin you'd thought it had been put in from the tea kettle
as an afterthought, and the dumplin's hadn't the puffin' out charm
worked on 'em for a cent. But the sliced carrots was kind of tasty and
went all right with the baker's bread if you left off the bargain
butter. Sis she tried to laugh at it all; but her eyes got kind of dewy
at the corners.

"Never mind, dear," says Mother. "I'll telegraph for our old Martha to
come on and cook for you."

"Why, certainly," says the Senator. "She could sleep on the fire escape,
you know."

And say, that last comic jab of his, and the effect it had on Mr. and
Mrs. Mallory, kind of got under my skin. I got to thinkin' hard and
fast, and inside of five minutes I stumbles onto an idea.

"Excuse me," says I to Skid; "but I guess I'll be on my way. I just
thought of a date I ought to keep."

And where do you expect I brings up? At the Ellins' mansion, down on the
avenue. First time I'd ever been there out of office hours; but the maid
says Mr. Ellins is takin' his coffee in the lib'ry and she'd see if he'd
let me in. Ah, sure he did, and we gets right down to cases.

"Remember how that assistant general manager stiff of yours fell down on
that public lands deal when you sent him to Washington last month?" says
I.

Old Hickory chokes some on a swallow of black coffee he's just hoisted
in; but he recovers enough to nod.

"Does he get the run?" says I.

"I neglected consulting you about it, Torchy," says he; "but his
resignation has been called for."

"Filled the job yet?" says I.

"Fortunately, no," says he, and I knew by the way he squints that he
thought he was bein' mighty humorous. "Possibly you could recommend his
successor?"

"Yep, I could," says I. "Would it help any to have some one who was son
in law to a Senator?"

"That," says Old Hickory, "would depend somewhat on which Senator was
his father in law."

"Well," says I, "there's his card."

"Eh?" says he, readin' the name. "Why--who----"

"Mallory," says I. "