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Quiet and unassuming he goes his way, minding his own business as carefully as we would mind it for him, with all the good will in the world, if only we could find out what it is. But we can't leave him alone.... Tracey Tanner interrupts my musings. "Hello!" he twangs, like a tuneless banjo. "'Lo, Tracey." This lofty and blase greeting can come from none other than Roland Barnette.
It's a very good word, too, but sometimes I fear she will wear it threadbare. It closes her remarks as the two girls dart into the Post Office, and there is peace for a time; then they emerge giggling, and I hear Josie declare: "I'd get Roland Barnette to do it, but he's so jealous. He makes me tired." Bessie's response is inaudible.
They was made for him, too made by a tailor on Fifth Avenue, Noo York. I fergit the name now." "Wal, Roland Barnette sez they ain't stylish. He sez they're too much like an undertaker's gitup." "Wal, Roland oughter know. He's the fanciest dressed-up feller in the county." "Yes, I guess he be."
Tracey Tanner's soda and cigarette trade was transferred bodily to Graham's from the first, and Roland Barnette gave it his patronage, albeit grudgingly, as soon as he found it impossible to shake Josie Lockwood's allegiance. I say grudgingly, because Roland didn't like the new partner, and had said so from the first. But everyone else did like him, almost without exception.
He swerved and lurched toward the door. "Thanks, doc, 'nd g'night," he mumbled, and incontinently collided with Roland Barnette.
"You didn't really think I wanted Roland Barnette to go home with me Wednesday night, did you, Nat?" "It seemed so, but ... that's all right. Why shouldn't you?" She turned to him, trembling a little. "Must I tell you, Nat?" "O, no!" he cried in dismay. "Please don't !" "I see I must," she persisted. "You're so blind. It " "Josie, don't say anything you'll be sorry for," he entreated wildly.
By the noon train Roland Barnette received his new summer suit from Chicago. I did not see it till evening, but heard of it before one, since Roland donned it immediately and wore it to the bank that very afternoon.
Both men, startled by the interruption, wheeled round to discover Roland Barnette dancing with excitement in the doorway, the while he beckoned frantically to an invisible party without. "Come on!" he shouted. "Here he is!" "What's eating you, Roly-Poly?" inquired Nat, too happy for the money to cherish animosity even toward his one-time rival. "You'll find out soon enough," snarled Roland. "Mr.
"When there's money due Lockwood, he wants it, and most times he gets it or its equivalent." "Yes," Sam assented sadly, "I guess he does, mostly." "But," Burnham changed the subject adroitly, "what was this burner, did you say? that Mr. Barnette forgot to tell me about?" "Oh, just one of my inventions, sir." "I understand you're quite an inventor?"
His further contributions to the conversation were somewhat spasmodic and ineffectual. "Why, no, Mr. Graham," Burnham interposed deftly. "Mr. Barnette must've been talking of someone else he knew in New York. "Didn't know he knew more'n one there," Sam observed mildly.
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