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Updated: June 16, 2025
When he had gone, Mayor Poundstone declared to his secretary that without doubt Ogilvy was the livest, keenest fellow that had struck Sequoia since the advent of old John Cardigan. Half an hour later the Mayor's telephone-bell rang. Buck Ogilvy was on the line. "I beg your pardon for bothering you with my affairs twice in the same day, Mr.
Poundstone protested as they passed up the cement walk toward the Pennington portal. Mayor Poundstone paused. Had he been Medusa, the glance he bent upon his spouse would have transformed her instantly into a not particularly symmetrical statue of concrete. He had reached the breaking-point. "In pity's name, woman," he growled, "talk about something else. Give me one night of peace.
"You've been doing business with Ogilvy; I know it for a fact, and you might as well admit it." Poundstone looked up, red and embarrassed. "If I had known " he began. "Certainly, certainly! I realize you acted in perfect good faith. You're like the majority of people in Sequoia.
What I would like to know is this: will you exert every effort to block that franchise in the firm conviction that by so doing you will accomplish a laudable public service?" Poundstone squirmed. "I should not care, at this time, to go on record," he replied evasively. "When I have had time to look into the matter more thoroughly " "Tut-tut, my dear man! Let us not straddle the fence.
Consequently, about the time the piece de resistance made its appearance, she threw caution to the winds and adverted to the subject closest to her heart. "I was telling Henry as we came up the walk how greatly I envied you that beautiful sedan, Miss Sumner," she gushed. "Isn't it a perfectly stunning car?" Poundstone made one futile attempt to head her off. "And I was telling Mrs.
He handed Henry a check for two hundred and fifty dollars, which he wrote out on the spot, and with his bright winning smile remarked: "Now, Mr. Poundstone, we will proceed to business. That retainer isn't a large one, I admit, but neither is the job I have for you to- day.
Poundstone was blonde and frail, with large round spectacles, rabbit teeth, and the swiftly receding chin of the terrapin.
His fondest hope, at the time he conceived the brilliant idea, was that Henry would show the telegram to his father and thus inculcate in the old gentleman a friendly feeling toward the N. C. O. not unmixed with pleasurable anticipations of the day when Henry Poundstone, Junior, should be one of the most highly prized members of the legal staff of a public-service corporation.
Henry Poundstone, Junior, proved to be the sole inhabitant of one rather bare office in the Cardigan Block. Buck had fully resolved to give him a retainer of a thousand dollars, or even more, if he asked for it, but after one look at Henry he cut the appropriation to two hundred and fifty dollars. Young Mr.
Have a cigarette, Mr. Poundstone." In the midst of the commonplace chatter incident to such occasions, Shirley entered the room; and the Colonel, leaving her to entertain the guests, went to a small sideboard in one corner and brought forth the "materials," as he jocularly termed them.
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