rimmed spectacles who was bustling across the lobby. "Well, Binstead, so you got it?"
"Yes."
"I suppose the price wasn't particularly stiff?"
"Twenty-three hundred."
"Twenty-three hundred!" Mr. Brewster seemed to reel in his tracks. "Twenty-three hundred!"
"You gave me carte blanche."
"Yes, but twenty-three hundred!"
"I could have got it for a few dollars, but unfortunately I was a little late, and, when I arrived, some young fool had bid it up to a thousand, and he stuck to me till I finally shook him off at twenty-three hundred. Why, this is the very man! Is he a friend of yours?"
Archie coughed.
"More a relation than a friend, what? Son-in-law, don't you know!"
Mr. Brewster's amiability had vanished.
"What damned foolery have you been up to now?" he demanded. "Can't I move a step without stubbing my toe on you? Why the devil did you bid?"
"We thought it would be rather a fruity scheme. We talked it over and came to the conclusion that it was an egg. Wanted to get hold of the rummy little object, don't you know, and surprise you."
"Who's we?"
"Lucille and I."
"But how did you hear of it at all?"
"Parker, the valet-chappie, you know, wrote me a letter about it."
"Parker! Didn't he tell you that he had told me the figure was to be sold?"
