"
"Drop the sir, for heaven's sake. I'm no officer. Where in the dickens
have I met you? Oh! wait a second, I've got it! Sunday night. We were out
somewhere together----"
"Hold on there," said Quin. "_You_ were out together, but I was out by
myself. We met at your door."
"So you were the chap that played the good Samaritan? Well, it was damned
clever of you, old man. I'm glad of a chance to thank you. I hadn't
touched a drop for six weeks before that, but you see----"
Mr. Bangs's metallic voice was heard in the outer office, and the two
younger men started.
"You bet I see!" said Quin sympathetically as he hurried out to inform
the senior member of the firm that the junior member awaited his
pleasure.
What happened at that interview was recounted to him by Miss Leaks, the
little drab-colored stenographer, who had returned from lunch when the
storm was at its height.
"It's a wonder Mr. Ranny don't kill that old man for the way he sneers at
him," she said indignantly to Quin, "Why, _I_ wouldn't take off him what
Mr. Ranny does! But then, what can he do? His mother keeps him here for a
mouth-piece for her, and Mr. Bangs knows it.
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