The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-06-02

lory.
"Wow." says Whitley, them
skim-miik eyes of hts gettin' big
They wouldn't let you within q
mile of him IL they knew. But
say, suppose I could lug him out
side, would l get that football
story"
You would" says Mallory.
Good" says Whitley. Come
on! I'll snake him out of there
II l have to drag him by the col
lar. But he's a fussy old freak.
and ! don't guarantee he'll stay
more than a minute"
That's enough" says Mallory.
He can talk French. l SUPPOSE
What's the matter with Eng
lish?" says Whitley. Now let's
see what kind of hot air I'll give
him."
Whitley didn't say what IL was
he thinks up; but he was GRIMM
all over his face when he leaves
as outside of No. =.
IL must have been a happy
bought, though; for IL want
long before he come out. town
a dried-up little old runt with a
full set of face lambrequins and
a gold dog license hung round his
neck from a red ribbon.
He had his napkin in one hand
and half a dinner roll In the 9TH
err; so il didn't look like he meant
OF make any long stop. He was
actin kind of dazed, too, like he
hadn't got somethin' clear i'm his
mind. But Whitley rushes him
right up to Mallory.
Here's the chap, Baron!" says
he. Il couldn't let you go back
to Russia without shaking hands
with the greatest quarterback
America ever produced. MIR. NAL
lofy. Baron Kazedky,' and then
he winks at Mallory, much as to
say, Now jump I'M"
And say, Mallory was Johnny
on the spot. He grabs Kazedky'sI
flfpper like IL was a life preseryer.
II i - really, gentlemen.
there's some mistake" says the
Baron. "A quarter what, did you
say"
oh" says Mallory, that's
some of Mr.. Bucks temfoolery-'
football term, you know"
But | am not interested In
foot ball, says the Baron, tryin' to
beck toward the door, mot in the
least"
ME either" says Mallory, get
tin a new grip on him. What
want to talk to you about il steel.
Now, / represent the Corrugated
Trust, and we"
Well, say, the old man him
self couldn't have ree1ed IL Off
better'n Mallory. l only hears
the start for it; for as soon as he
got well under way. Mallory
starts for the other end of the
corridor, skatin' the little old
Baron along with him like he was
q Third avenue clothing store
dummy that was bein' hauled in
at closin'-up time.
Whitley didn't even wait for
the overture. The minute he
hands Kazedky over he fades to-
wards the elevator. There's
nothin' for me to do but wait;
so picks out a red velvet chaiv
and camps down on ft to watch
the promenade.
That's what IL was, too; NAL
Tory has a right-arm hook on
Kazedky and is maxim motions
with his left hand. Bein' so tall
he has to lean over to pump his
speech into the old fellows ear,
but every now and then he gets
excited and, stead of bendin' him
self, he lift the Baron clear off
his feet.
About the third lap some of
the gents from the private dinin'-
room pokes their heads out to see
what's happened to the guest of
the evenfn'. They saw, all right
They must have been suspicious,
too; for they were Iookin' anx-
ious, and begun signaling him to
break away.
The Baron didn't have no time
for watchin signals just then.
He was busy tryin' to keep his
feet on the floor, when Mallory
leans him up against the wall,
hauls out a pad and a fountain |
pen, and hands the things to
Kazedky. The Baron scribbles
off somethin'.
When he's done that Mallory
pockets the pad, leads the Baron |
back to his friends. shakes hands |
with him, motions 60 me, and
pixies for the elevator.