d his tone changes sudden. "What!" he snaps. "You, Ellins?
How did you get in here?"

"With those fool chickens," says the boss.

"But--but I didn't know," goes on Mr. Nash, "that you were interested in
that sort of thing."

"Glad to say I'm not," comes back Old Hickory. "Just a scheme of my
brilliant-haired young friend here to smuggle me into the sacred
presence. Great Zacharias, Nash! why don't you shut yourself in a steel
vault, and have done with it?"

Gedney bites his upper lip, annoyed. "I find it necessary," says he, "to
avoid interruptions. I presume, however, that you came on some errand of
importance?"

"I did," says Old Hickory. "I want to get a renewal of that Manistee
terminal lease."

Say, of all the scientific squirmin', Gedney Nash can put up the
slickest specimen. First off he lets on not to know a thing about it.
Well, perhaps it was true that International Utilities did control those
wharves: he really couldn't say. And besides that matter would be left
entirely to the discretion of----

"No, it won't," breaks in Old Hickory, shakin' a stubby forefinger at
him. "It's between us, Nash. You know what those terminal privileges
mean to us. We can't get on without them. And if you take 'em away, it's
a fight to a finish--that's all!"

"Sorry, Ellins," says Mr. Nash, "but I can do nothing."

"Wait," says Old Hickory. "Did you know that we held a big block of your
M., K. & T.'s? Well, we do. They happen to be first lien bonds too. And
M., K. & T. defaulted on its last interest coupons. Entirely
unnecessary, I know, but it throws the company open to a foreclosure
petition. Want us to put it in?"

"H-m-m-m!" says Mr. Nash. "Er--won't you sit down?"

Now if it had been two common, everyday parties, debatin' which owned a
yellow dog, they'd gone hoarse over it; but not these two plutes. Gedney
Nash asks Old Hickory only three more questions before he turns to the
wicker cages and begins admirin' the fancy poultry.

"Excellent specimens, excellent!" says he. "And in the pink of condition
too. I have a few Orpingtons on my place; but--oh, by the way, Ellins,
are these really intended for me?"

"With Torchy's compliments," says Old Hickory.

"By Jove!" says Gedney. "I--I'm greatly obliged--truly, I am. What
plumage! What hackles! And--er--just leave that terminal lease, will
you? I'll have it renewed and sent up. Would you mind too if I sent you
out by the Broadway entrance?"

I didn't mind, fo