The Pulaskian., 1916-12-15
CHAPTER IV-continued.

-5-
 "Would you know her if you saw herr"
 'I don't know" Whitaker drowned with annoyance. "Shes six years older"
 "Well, but what was she hke?' Drummend pursued curiously.
 Whitaker shook his head. "It's not easy to remember. Matter of fact, I don't believe ever got one good square look at her. It was twilight in the hotel when I found her; we sat talking in absolute darkness, to- ward the end; even in the minister's study there was only a green-shaded lamp on the table; and on the train well, we were both too much worked up, fancy, to pay much attention to details"
 Blonde or bruneT
 'T swear I don't know. She wore one of those funny knitted caps, tight down over her hair, all the time."
 Drummond laughed quietly.
 q don't feel in a joking humor," Whitaker said roughly. 'It's a serious matter and wants serious treat ment What else have we got to null over?"
 Drummond shrugged suavely. There's enough to keep us busy for several hours" he said. For instance, there's my stewardship"
 Your whieh?"
 My care of your property. You left a good deal of money and securities lying round loose, you know naturally I felt obliged to look after 'em. There was no telling when Widow Whitaker might walk in and demand an account ing. I presume we might as well run over the account-though it is getting late"
 'Half-past four," Whitaker informed him, consulting his watch. "Take too long for to-day. Some other time.'
 Drummond's reply was postponed by the office boy, who popped in on the heels of light knock.
 "Mr. Maxs outside" he announced. 70 the deucel'' The exclamation seemed to escape Drummond's lips in- voluntarily. He frightened them an- grily, as though regretting the lapse of self-control, and glanced hurriedly askance to see if Whitaker had no- ticed. "Tm busy" he added, trace sullenly. "Tell him I've gone out"
 But he.s got 'nappointment," the boy protested. And besides, told him you was in."
 ''You needn't fob him off on my ac- count" Whitaker interposed. We can enish our confab later-Monday-any time It's time for me to be getting uptown, anyway"
 Tt isn't that" Drummond explained doggedly. "Only-the mans bore' and"
 Ut isn't Jules Maxi" Whitaker ex- citedly. "Not little Jules Max, who used to stage manage our amateur shows?"
 That's the man." Drummond adj mitted with plain reluctance.
 "Then have him in, by all means l want to say howdy to him, ii nothing more. And then I'll clear out and leave you to his troubles"
 Drummond laughed trifie Sourly. Max has developed into heavy weight entrepreneur, you know,
 Meaning theatrical manager! Then why not say so? But might've guessed he'd drift into something or the sort.''
 A moment later Whitaker was wig orously pumping the unresisting-in- deed the apparently boneless-hand or Jules Max. The hat that had made Hammerstein famous Max had appro- priated--straight crown, fiat brim and immaculate gloss-bodily. Beneath IL his face was small of feature, and fat. A pince-nez sheltered his near-slghteu eyes. His short, round little body was invariably by day dressed in dark gray morning-coat, white-edged walst- coat, assertively- y-striped trousers, and patent-leather shoes with white spats. He had a passion for lemon-colored gloves of thlnnest kid and slender malacca walking-sticks. His dignity was an awful thing, as ingrained as his strut.
 He reasserted the dignity now With a Jerk of his maltreated hand, reau-