is that
son of mine getting on?"

"Eh?" says Old Hickory, starin' at him blank. "Son of yours with us? I'd
forgotten. Let's see. Torchy, in what department is young Tyler now?"

"Hartley?" says I. "Oh, he quit weeks ago."

"Quit?" says Z. K. "Do you mean he was fired?"

"A little of both," says I. "Him and Mr. Piddie split about fifty-fifty
on that. They had a debate about him gettin' a raise. No, he didn't
leave any forwardin' address and he hasn't been back since."

"Huh!" says Z. K., scratchin' his left ear. "He'd had the impudence to
go and get himself married, too. Think of that Ellins! A youngster who
never did a stroke of real work in his life loads himself up with a
family in these times. Well, I suppose he's finding out what a fool he
is, and when they both get good and hungry he'll come crawling back. Oh
yes, I'll give him a job this time, a real one. You know I've been
rebuilding my country home down near Great Neck. Been having a deuce of
a time doing it, too--materials held up, workmen going out on strikes
every few days. I'll set Hartley to running a concrete mixer, or
wheeling bricks when he shows up."

But somehow Hartley don't do the homeward crawl quite on schedule. At
any rate, old Z. K. was in the office three or four times after that
without mentionin' it, and you bet he would have cackled some if Hartley
had come back. All he reports is that the house rebuildin' is draggin'
along to a finish and he hopes to be able to move in shortly.

"Want you to drive over and see what you think of it," he remarks to Mr.
Robert, once when Old Hickory happens to be out. "Only a few plasterers
and plumbers and painters still hanging on. How about next Saturday?
I've got to be there about 2 o'clock. What say?"

"I shall be very glad to," says Mr. Robert, who's always plannin' out
ways of revisin' his own place.

If it hadn't been for some Western correspondence that needed code
replies by wire I expect I should have missed out on this tour of
inspection to the double-breasted new Tyler mansion. As it was Mr.
Robert tells me to take the code book and my hat and come along with him
in the limousine. So by the time we struck Jamaica I was ready to file
the messages and enjoy the rest of the drive.

We finds old Z. K. already on the ground, unloadin' a morning grouch on
a landscape architect.

"Be with you in a minute, Robert," says he. "Just wander in and look
around."

That wasn't so easy as it sounded