an' I put down de plunks, an' here I am, boss."
"I noticed that, Spike," said Jimmy. "I could see you in the dark."
"Don't you like de duds, boss?" inquired Spike, anxiously.
"They're great," said Jimmy. "You'd make Solomon in all his glory look like a tramp 'cyclist."
"Dat's right," agreed Spike. "Dey'se de limit."
And, apparently oblivious to the presence of Lord Dreever, who had been watching him in blank silence since his entrance, the Bowery boy proceeded to execute a mysterious shuffling dance on the carpet.
This was too much for the overwrought brain of his lordship.
"Good-bye, Pitt," he said, "I'm off. Got to see a man."
Jimmy saw his guest to the door.
Outside, Lord Dreever placed the palm of his right hand on his forehead.
"I say, Pitt," he said.
"Who the devil's that?"
"Who? Spike? Oh, that's my man."
"Your man! Is he always like that? I mean, going on like a frightful music-hall comedian? Dancing, you know! And, I say, what on earth language was that he was talking? I couldn't understand one word in ten."
"Oh, that's American, the Bowery variety."
"Oh, well, I suppose it's all right if you under-