If I'd ever dreamed that he had it in him to
do it so well, I'd have had the line in every play we've done since he
joined us, author or no author."
At twelve-thirty sharp, Barnes came down from his room freshly shaved
and brushed, to find not only Mr. Rushcroft and Miss Thackeray
awaiting him in the office, but the Messrs. Dillingford and Bacon as
well. Putnam Jones, gloomy and preoccupied behind the counter, allowed
his eyes to brighten a little as the latest guest of the house
approached the group.
"I've given all of 'em an hour or two off," he said genially. "Do what
you like to 'em."
Rushcroft expanded. "My good man, what the devil do you mean by a
remark like that? Remember--"
"Never mind, dad," said Miss Thackeray, lifting her chin haughtily.
"Forgive us our trespassers as we forgive our trespasses. And
remember, also, that poor, dear Mr. Jones is all out of sorts to-day.
He is all keyed up over the notoriety his house is going to achieve
before the government gets through annoying him."
"See here, Miss," began Mr. Jones, threateningly, and then, overcome
by his Yankee shrewdness, stopped as suddenly as he started. "Go on in
and have your dinner. Don't mind me.
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