phone, Sir."

"Tell them to hold the wire," says Woodie.

We was still tryin' to dope that out when a big limousine rolls up in
front of the store, out hops a footman in livery, walks in to Woodie
with his cap in his hand, and holds out a bunch of telegrams.

"From the office, Sir," says he.

"Wait," says Woodie, wavin' him one side.

Now was them any proper motions for a grocery clerk to be goin' through?
I leave it to you. Vee is watchin' with her nose wrinkled up, like she
always does when anything stumps her; and me, I was just starin'
open-faced and foolish. I couldn't get the connection at all. But Aunty
ain't one to stand gaspin' over a mystery while her tongue's still
workin'.

"Whose car is that?" she demands.

Woodie slips the string from between his front teeth, puts a double knot
scientific on the end of the package, and peers over his glasses out
through the door. "That?" says he. "Oh, that's mine."

"Yours!" comes back Aunty. "And--and this store too?"

"Oh, yes," says he.

"Then--then your name is Wiggins?" she goes on.

"Yes," says he. "Don't you remember,--Woodie Wiggins?"

"I'd forgotten," says Aunty. "And all the other stores like this--how
many of them have you?"

"Something less than a hundred," says he. "Ninety-six or seven, I
think."

Most got Aunty's breath, that did; but in a jiffy she's recovered.
"Perhaps," says she, "you don't mind telling me the reason for this
masquerade?"

"It's not quite that," says Wiggins. "I try to keep in touch with all my
places. In making my rounds to-day I found my local manager here too ill
to be at work. Bad case of grip. So I sent him home, telephoned for a
substitute, and while waiting took off my coat and filled in. Fortunate
coincidence, wasn't it?--for it gave me the pleasure of serving you."

"You mean," cuts in Aunty, "that it gave you the opportunity of making
me appear absurd. Those gowns I promised to send!"

Wiggins grins good natured. "Is this the niece you mentioned?" says he.

Aunty admits that it is, and introduces Vee.

Then Wiggins looks inquirin' at me. "Your son?" he asks.

And you should have seen Aunty's face pink up at that. "Certainly not!"
says she.

"Oh!" says Woodie, screwin' up one corner of his mouth and tippin' me
the wink.

I knew if I got a look at Vee I'd have to haw-haw; so I backs around
with one hand behind me and we swaps a finger squeeze.

Then Aunty jumps in with the quick shift. She asks him pat