In a moment the little man burst out with
a bulging portmanteau in his hand. He had a tweed cap slanted
on the back of his head.
"There!" he cried triumphantly. "I've packed all my personal
effects clothes and so on--and everything else goes with the
transaction. When I get on the train with this bag I'm a free
man, and hurrah for Brooklyn! Lord, won't I be glad to get
back to the city! I lived in Brooklyn once, and I haven't
been back there for ten years," he added plaintively.
"Here's the check," I said, handing it to him. He flushed a
little, and looked at me rather shamefacedly. "See here," he
said, "I hope you're not making a bad bargain? I don't want
to take advantage of a lady. If you think your brother...."
"I was going to buy a Ford, anyway," I said, "and it looks to
me as though this parcheesi of yours would be cheaper to run
than any flivver that ever came out of Detroit. I want to
keep it away from Andrew and that's the main thing. You give
me a receipt and we'll get away from here before he comes back."
He took the check without a word, hoisted his fat portmanteau
on the driver's seat, and then disappeared in the van. In a
minute he reappeared.
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