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Joe did so, and no sooner had the snap come than the seal, which had fixed its intelligent eyes on Joe, tossed the fish up into the air, caught it in its mouth as it came down and swallowed it. Then, with another loud "Hook!" the animal dived and swam rapidly to the far side of the tank. Joe and Babson stood looking in admiration at the swimming seal.
I was just going to see about hiring an auto. Know where I can get one in this town?" "What do you want with an auto when I have my little jitney?" asked Babson, indicating the motor-cycle. "She's a good machine, but I haven't cleaned her lately. She'll carry double, too. Hop up behind me and I'll have you at Elmwood in no time. I'll bring you back, too, though I won't promise to carry the seal.
Hardly one, however, but was routed by the Machiavellian Babson.
I can get a hundred witnesses " "Sit down!" shouted one of the officers, thrusting him back. "Keep quiet!" Babson looked at O'Brien and elevated his forehead.
As it is now, I'll have an hour or so to spare." "Yes, a motor-cycle is handy for getting anywhere in a hurry," said Babson. "Why don't you buy mine and work it in your tank act?" "I don't see how I could," laughed Joe. "But I don't know but that it would be a good thing to have, anyhow. I could take rides about the country." "You and your wife when you get one," added Babson.
She seized her untouched note-book, her pencils sharpened like lances, and tried to appear a very mouse of modesty as she marched down the office to take her first real dictation, to begin her triumphant career.... And to have Walter Babson, the beloved fool, speak to her.
"I'm very glad I bought it from Babson," he said, "though the day I got it and the seal I seemed to be going it pretty heavy in the matter of expenditures." Then, one day, Joe had his accident. It was not a very serious one, merely the breaking of the motor-cycle transmission chain, but as far as making the machine go without it, Joe might as well have had a bad smash-up.
Babson was less jocular with Una than with the bouncing girls who were natives of Harlem. But he smiled at her, as though they were understanding friends, and once he said, but quietly, rather respectfully, "You have nice hair soft." She lay awake to croon that to herself, though she denied that she was in love with this eccentric waster. Always Babson kept up his ejaculations and fidgeting.
"All these here critics telling what low-brows us American business men are! Just between you and I, I bet I knock down more good, big, round, iron men every week than nine-tenths of these high-brow fiddlers yes, and college professors and authors, too!" "Yes, but you shouldn't make money your standard," said Una, in company with the invisible chorus of Mamie Magen and Walter Babson.
Babson was there to defend the cut of his trousers, and Billings and Simmons were present to answer for themselves at the expense of the pictures of those who had called their habits and features into question. When it came to this all the voices joined in jolly uproar.
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