Only enemies drink to each other, Ernie. Bear that in mind.
Unconscious enemies."
"I don't drink," was the surly rejoinder.
Precisely ten minutes later Colonel Grand got up from his chair. In
three strides he was at the door; he turned the key and--
There was Dick Cronk leaning against the wall on the opposite side of
the hallway, his hands in his pockets, his long legs crossed, his
"dicer" on the back of his head. There was no evidence of surprise or
confusion in his face; he was as composed, as serene, as if the
expected had occurred. A bland smile greeted the triumphant Colonel.
"Evening, Colonel. Have you seen anything of a lost boy around here?"
The other stood aside, giving him a fair view of the room. "Come in,
Dick. I've been expecting you," he said quietly.
Dick stared for a second or two longer than he might have done under
less trying conditions.
"No, thanks. I'll wait out here," he said dryly. He did not change his
attitude in the least.
"We've been waiting for you," said the Colonel. "We can't proceed
without you. Do me the honor to step into my parlor." He bowed very
deeply.
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