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He didn't have to call him twice; for the boss of the Restorium had heard the row and was glidin' our way as fast as his rubber heels would let him. He's a short legged, pop eyed, red faced party, wearin' cute white side whiskers, a black Prince Albert, and a minister's necktie. "Gently, gently," says he, pattin' the air with his hands and puckering his mouth.
"Any guest who is dissatisfied with the manner in which the Restorium is conducted has the option of leaving." "Well, say!" says Mr. Ellins, thumpin' the desk earnest, "I am dissatisfied! Buttermilk and vesper services! Huh! Do you suppose I've paid two weeks in advance for such a dose? Where's your 'phone?"
Luckily, I happened to know just the place for him and was able to persuade him to go there at once. He started this afternoon." It's called the Wesley Restorium, Martha says, and is run by an old friend of hers who used to be a missionary doctor in China. He's an awfully good man, and she's sure he'll help Mr. Ellins a lot.
"I've had a bully good time; but I'm getting a little tired. And, by the way, please remember to have the doctor send fifteen dollars to my friend McCabe here. You explain, will you, Scully?" Scully does. "From Dr. Slade's Restorium," says he, noddin' at Alvin and tappin' his forehead. "Quite a harmless gentleman, Sir." "Eh?" says I, turnin' to Alvin. "You from a nut factory? Good night!"
"Have, eh?" grunts Hickory. "Then where can I find three others to make up a bridge game?" "Card playing," says the Doc, putting his thumb and forefingers together, "is not allowed in the Restorium." "Sorrowing sisters by the sea!" remarks Mr. Ellins. "No billiards! No cards! Say, what the merry Mithridates do you think I'm going to do with myself from now until twelve o'clock, eh?"
"I suppose I may smoke, eh?" "On the north veranda, from seven until eight-fifteen," says the waiter. "Well, I'll be blistered!" says Old Hickory. While he's burnin' a couple of black perfectos out on the smoke reservation, I roams around the Restorium. It's furnished neat and simple, with lots of varnished woodwork and a few framed railroad photos on the walls.
"Was that a bluff about buildin' that hotel?" says I after awhile. "Well," says Mr. Ellins, "not exactly; but I think I shall present the Restorium with a pipe organ instead." Course it was a cinch; but Piddie ain't got done wonderin' yet how I did it. I can tell that by the puzzled way he has of lookin' me over when he thinks I ain't noticin'.
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