On Fee's account we walked very slowly; but after a while we came to a
house with a very low stoop,--just a step or two from the ground. There
were handsome glass doors to the vestibule, and the rather small hall
was brilliantly lighted up. I fancied that the man who opened the door
looked at me as if he thought I had no business there; but Felix marched
right by him and stepped into the elevator, and of course I followed.
"Mr. Whitcombe," said Fee; and then I knew that we were in the apartment
house where Chad has his "bachelor quarters."
"Turn to your left," said the elevator man, as he let us out. We did so,
and just as we got opposite the door with the big silver knob and old
bronze knocker that Chad had told us he brought from Europe, it opened,
and some one came out. Well, truly, he didn't look any older than
fifteen,--two years older than I am, mind you,--but if he didn't have
on a long-tailed evening coat, an awfully high stand-up collar, and
a tall silk hat! You can't think what a queer figure he was,--like
a caricature.
Before he could shut the door, Felix lifted his hat, and then put out
his hand quickly. "Allow me," he said politely; and the next moment we
were in Chad's hall, with his front door closed behind us.
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