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Updated: June 25, 2025
I want to turn in an alarm. Yes quick! There is a fire a bad one incendiary top floor. No, no I'm not there. I can see it. Hurry!" He had dropped the telephone receiver without waiting to replace it on the hook and was now dashing madly out of the empty apartment and down the street. The hall-boy at Warrington's had done exactly as I had ordered him.
You told me to ask him, and I did it to please you. We had a day's sights together, and dined at the club, and went to the play. He said the wine at the Polyanthus was not so good as Ellis's wine at Richmond, smoked Warrington's cavendish after breakfast, and when I gave him a sovereign as a farewell token, said he had plenty of them, but would take it to show he wasn't proud."
"And you mean there's a chance even a chance of us of Outram's Own bein' out of it? Beg your pardon, sir, but are you serious?" "Yes," said Kirby, and Warrington's jaw fell. "Any details that are not too confidential for me to know?" asked Warrington. "Tell you all about it after I've had a word with Ranjoor Singh." "Hadn't I better go and help look for him?" "Yes, if you like."
And if it was the stolen car, then it was Warrington's own car that was used in pursuing him and in almost making away with him!" We had not noticed a car which had stopped just past us and Garrick was surprised at hearing his own name called. We looked up from contemplating the discovery he had made in the road, to see Miss Winslow waving to us.
The boy seemed to be more than usually intelligent and had evidently been told over the telephone by Warrington that we were coming. At least we had no trouble, so far. Warrington's suite was very tastefully furnished for bachelor quarters.
Warrington was brilliant, a fine linguist, was a born diplomat, had a good voice, and a fund of wit and repartee; nothing more was required. He would give the name Warrington a high place in the diplomatic history of the United States. Some of the most capable diplomats this country had produced had been poets. Warrington's being a playwright would add luster to the office.
George Warrington's letter to his brother, in which he describes other personal matters, as well as a visit he had paid to the newly married pair: "My dearest little Theo," he writes, "was eager to accompany her mamma upon this errand of charity; but I thought Aunt Lambert's visit would be best under the circumstances, and without the attendance of her little spinster aide-de-camp.
He tore 'em up and threw them in the river. I think he said there wasn't a damn thing in 'em except a lot of mush, anyhow." An amused smile crossed Garrick's face as he added, parenthetically, "Good-bye to Warrington's love letters that they took from his safe."
He was riding easily, his feet light in the stirrups, his head thrown back, his eyes half closed, and was breathing deeply of the cool air, which was heavy with the smell of sweet clover and dew-wet earth. It was a good, clean, honest face. Indeed, it was all impossible. Dissipation writes plainly upon the human countenance, and it had left no visible sign on Warrington's face.
You see, we have only indicated, we have not chosen to describe, at length, Mr. Harry Warrington's condition, or that utter depth of imbecility into which the poor young wretch was now plunged. Some boys have the complaint of love favourably and gently.
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