But, recalling some of his earlier triumphs the Sipperley Case, the Episode of My Aunt Agatha and the Dog McIntosh, and the smoothly handled Affair of Uncle George and The Barmaid's Niece were a few that sprang to my mind I felt justified at least in offering him the opportunity of coming to the aid of the young master in his hour of peril.

Sipperley " he spoke in a wheedling voice, as if determined, in spite of herself, to make Jill see what was in her best interests "Mr Sipperley's on the fourth floor. Gentleman in the real estate business," he added insinuatingly. "He's got blond hair and a Boston bull-dog." "He may be all you say, and he may have a dozen bulldogs . . ." "Only one. Jack his name is."

"Oddly enough, sir, precisely the same as that of Mr. Sipperley when I was enabled to be of assistance to him. No doubt you recall Mr. Sipperley's predicament, sir. Deeply attached to Miss Moon, he suffered from a rooted diffidence which made it impossible for him to speak." I nodded. "I remember. Yes, I recall the Sipperley case. He couldn't bring himself to the scratch.

This is an age of just-as-good substitutes, but she refused to accept any unknown Sipperley as a satisfactory alternative for Uncle Chris. "I don't want Mr Sipperley. I want Major Selby." "Howja spell it once more?" "S-e-l-b-y." "S-e-l-b-y. No one of that name living here. Mr.

You've just told me that this is what he has been doing, and assiduously, at that." "It was I with whom he was desirous of establishing communication, sir." "You? But I didn't know you had ever met him." "I had not had that pleasure until he called here, sir. But it appears that Mr. Sipperley, a fellow student of whom Mr.

". . . But he isn't the right man. It's absurd. Major Selby wrote to me from this address. This is Eighteen East Fifty-seventh Street?" "This is Eighteen East Fifty-seventh Street," conceded the other cautiously. "I've got his letter here." She opened her bag, and gave an exclamation of dismay. "It's gone!" "Mr Sipperley used to have a friend staying with him last Fall. A Mr Robertson.

No one of that name living here." "But there must be." The veteran shook his head with an indulgent smile. "You want Mr Sipperley," he said tolerantly. In Guatemala these mistakes are always happening. "Mr George Sipperley. He's on the fourth floor. What name shall I say?" He had almost reached the telephone when Jill stopped him.