"
"Maybe so--"
"Maybe so," she interrupted. "Oh, it's all right for any of 'em like
that one that just ran out--God knows where _she_ went--it's all
right for them that are asked here to come or go as they like--but
when I want to see a friend they have some cheap, ham-slinging,
bring-me-a-doughnut waiter to stand here and keep me out."
"See here," said the elder Key indignantly, "I can't lose my job.
Maybe this fella you're talkin' about doesn't want to see you."
"Oh, he wants to see me all right."
"Anyways, how could I find him in all that crowd?"
"Oh, he'll be there," she asserted confidently. "You just ask anybody
for Gordon Sterrett and they'll point him out to you. They all know
each other, those fellas."
She produced a mesh bag, and taking out a dollar bill handed it to
George.
"Here," she said, "here's a bribe. You find him and give him my
message. You tell him if he isn't here in five minutes I'm coming up."
George shook his head pessimistically, considered the question for a
moment, wavered violently, and then withdrew.
In less than the allotted time Gordon came down-stairs. He was drunker
than he had been earlier in the evening and in a different way. The
liquor seemed to have hardened on him like a crust. He was heavy and
lurching--almost incoherent when he talked.
"'Lo, Jewel," he said thickly. "Came right away, Jewel, I couldn't get
that money.
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