But you're right about one thing, Mrs.
Selfridge. I'm brave and strong enough at the breakfast table. Steward,
will you bring me a double order of these shirred eggs--and a small
steak?"
"Well, I'm glad you can still joke, Mr. Macdonald, after such a terrible
experience. All I can say is that I hope Wally isn't permanently
injured. He hasn't your fine constitution, and one never can tell about
internal injuries." Mrs. Selfridge sighed and passed to her place.
The eyes of the big man twinkled. "Our little fracas has been a godsend
to Mrs. Selfridge. Wally and I will both emerge as heroes of a desperate
struggle. You won't even get a mention. But it's a pity about Wally's
injuries--and his singing voice."
The younger man agreed with a gravity back of which his amusement was
apparent. The share of Selfridge in the battle had been limited to leg
work only, but this had not been good enough to keep him from being
overhauled and having his throat squeezed.
Elliot finished breakfast first and left Macdonald looking over a
long typewritten document. He had it propped against a water-bottle
and was reading as he ate. The paper was a report Selfridge had brought
in to him from a clerk in the General Land Office.
Pages:
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46