Part 21 (2/2)

After a little more talk Mr. Boggs seemed satisfied and consented to join the party.

Mr. Leveson was notified of the presence of the newcomers and met them at the door. Isaac was of a decidedly Jewish cast of countenance, slightly gray, not very tall, and quite round shouldered. He put out a lank hand toward Roseleaf, when that young gentleman was named as a matter of introduction, but put it down again when Mr. Weil curtly said handshaking was out of date. Archie had seen a disinclination in the eye of his friend to touch the fingers of the Hebrew, and with his usual quickness had solved the difficulty. The party entered a private office at the left of the entrance, where Mr. Leveson inquired what he should order for them to drink.

”You will order nothing, at present,” said Weil, in a contemptuous way that excited the astonishment of Mr. Roseleaf. ”When I wish for anything I will ring. Who is there in the house?”

The manager of the establishment bowed humbly, and proceeded to run over the list of his customers.

”There is Major Waters and his wife--”

”Together!” exclaimed the questioner.

”Oh, no! The Major has the little blonde that he has brought for the last month; his wife has Mr. Nikles of the Planet. Then--”

But Mr. Weil interrupted him again.

”You'll let them run into each other some day and there'll be a nice time.”

”Never fear that. The boys understand thoroughly. He comes earlier and stays later than she. Besides, we never let anybody meet on the stairs.

The waiters cry out, 'You must go back; it is bad luck!' if any of them seem in danger of running into each other. They are as safe from discovery here as if they were in places a mile apart.”

Some one descended the stairs at this moment and Leveson tiptoed to the door and opened it half an inch to peer at them.

”You know I have no object in saying these things,” said Weil, ”except to save your precious self from trouble. Who is that going out?”

”Some new people; it is the third time they have been here.”

”Well,” asked Weil, impatiently, ”who are they?”

Leveson held up both his hands as if to beg a moment to answer.

”They come from Brooklyn. I don't know their names. I think neither is married.”

”I have a curiosity about things,” explained Weil to his friends, ”that I cannot account for. You remember how Silas Wegg used to talk about 'Aunt Jane' and 'Uncle Parker.' Well, I have the same way of studying the men that wander in here of an evening, with other people's wives and daughters. There is so little really entertaining in this confounded world that I seize upon anything promising a change with avidity. Isaac tells me all the secrets of his queer ranch, and they prove wonderfully interesting, sometimes. You see,” he added, addressing himself particularly to Roseleaf, ”not a couple comes into this place that would like to have it known.”

Roseleaf bowed constrainedly.

”And how does Mr. Leveson know them?” he inquired. ”They surely do not register, or if they do their names must be fict.i.tious.”

Mr. Weil laughed.

”He has ways of finding out,” said he. ”There are little birds that fly in at the window and tell him.”

”I should not think he would wish to know,” commented Roseleaf.

”Especially when it is evident they would not like to have him.”

Archie laughed again.

”Let me explain, then,” he said. ”I need not mind Boggs here, who is discretion itself. Leveson's reason--of course, I can rely on your silence?”

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