must speak to him when he comes back. Tom Oliphant, eh? It ’s a small world. Well, well!” And Barney saw their fish on the hook.
The fish proceeded to climb up the line and fight his way into the creel as soon as Babbing returned; and Babbing at first held him off, suspiciously. Yes, he was Thomas Oliphant of Kansas City. No, not cattle. Leather, sir; leather. William Smith? No, he didn’t know William Smith. He thought he had heard of William Smith, but couldn’t place him. His brother-in-law? A pleasure. A pleasure. Much obliged to Mr. Sullivan for letting him take that telephone call. It was pressing business. They had been trying all morning to get him on the ’phone.
In ten minutes the engaging Sullivan had moved to the vacant chair opposite Barney, had lighted one of his Padages Palmas rather gaudily, and was listening to Babbing with a flattering admiration showing in his bluish-gray eyes. It developed that Sullivan was
