"
"What disease?" asked the puzzled clerk.
"Oh, nothin'. I was just thinkin' out loud, that's all. Mr. Sylvester
wants to see me right off, does he?"
"Yes, he said he would wait if I 'phoned him you were coming."
"Um-hm. Well, you can tell him I've left the dock, bound in his
direction. Say, that young chap that was here when I called the fust
time--studyin' to be a lawyer, is he?"
"Who? Tim? No, indeed. He's only the office boy. Why did you ask?"
"Oh, I was just wonderin'. I had a notion he might be in trainin' for a
judgeship, he was so high and mighty. Ho! ho! He's got talent, that boy
has. Nobody but a born genius could have made as many mistakes in one
name as he did when he undertook to spell Elisha. Well, sir, I'm much
obliged to you. Good day."
The Central Club is a ponderous institution occupying a becomingly
gorgeous building on the Avenue. The captain found his way to its door
without much trouble. A brass-buttoned attendant answered his ring and
superciliously inquired his business. Captain Elisha, not being greatly
in awe of either buttons or brief authority, calmly hailed the attendant
as "Gen'ral" and informed him that he was there to see Mr. Sylvester, if
the latter was "on deck anywheres."
"Tell him it's Cap'n Warren, Major," he added cheerfully; "he's
expectin' me.
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