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"You mean the secretary was the daughter's husband all along, and he heard what the president said right there?" Nelly panted, stopping outside Miggleton's, in the light from the oyster-filled window. "Yes; and he heard it all." "Why, I think that's just a fine idea," declared Nelly, as they entered the restaurant.
He had a friend! He was to see Tom Poppins the coming Thursday at Miggleton's. And now he was going to find Morton! He laughed so loudly that the policeman at Thirty-fourth Street looked self-conscious and felt secretively to find out what was the matter with his uniform. Now, this evening, he'd try to get on the track of Morton.
At last comes the historic match-box incident. On that October evening in 1910 he dined early at Miggleton's. The thirty-cent table d'hote was perfect. The cream-of-corn soup was, he went so far as to remark to the waitress, "simply slick"; the Waldorf salad had two whole walnuts in his portion alone.
Miggleton's restaurant, on Forty-second Street, was a romantic discovery. Though it had "popular prices" plain omelet, fifteen cents it had red and green bracket lights, mission-style tables, and music played by a sparrowlike pianist and a violinist. Mr.
Wrenn, eh? one of those Manila cigars great cigars they were, too; and that he hadn't "laughed so much for a month of Sundays as he had over the way they stung Miggleton's on them matches." All this in the easy, affectionate, slightly wistful manner of fat men. Mr. Poppins's large round friendly childish eyes were never sarcastic.
He followed up his conversational advantage by leading the chorus in wondering, "which one of them two actors the heroine was married to?" and "how much a week they get for acting in that thing?" It was Tom who invited them to Miggleton's for coffee and fried oysters. Mr. Wrenn was silent for a while.
Be awful nice to see you again, old Morty." "Same here. Goo'-by." Gazing across the table at Miggleton's, Mr.
He asked the waiter for some paper, and while the four hotly discussed things which "it would be slick to have the president's daughter do" he drew up a list of characters on a sheet of paper he still keeps. It is headed, "Miggleton's Forty-second Street Branch." At the bottom appear numerous scribblings of the name Nelly. "I think I'll call the heroine `Nelly," he mused. Nelly Croubel blushed.
Well, perhaps not this evening the Pennsylvania offices wouldn't be open, but some time this week, anyway. Two nights later, as he waited for Tom Poppins at Miggleton's, he lashed himself with the thought that he had not started to find Morton; good old Morton of the cattle-boat. But that was forgotten in the wonder of Tom Poppins's account of Mrs.
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