Sherwood?" queried Larry.
The other's grand manner vanished and he grinned. "Forget the 'Mr.
Sherwood,' or you'll make me feel not at home in my own house," he
begged with humorous mournfulness. "Call me Dick. Everybody else does.
That's settled. Now to the reason for this visitation at such an
ungodly hour. Sis has just been in picking on me. Says I was rude to
you last night. I suppose I was. I'd had several from my private stock
early in the evening; and several more around in jovial Manhattan
joints where prohibition hasn't checked the flow of happiness if you
know the countersign. The cumulative effect you saw, and were the
victim of. I apologize, sir."
"That's all right, Mr.--"
"Dick is what I said," interrupted the other.
"Dick, then. It's all right. I understand."
"Thanks. I'll call you Old Captain Nemo for short. Sis didn't tell me
your name or anything about you, and she said I wasn't to ask you
questions. But whatever Isabel does is usually one hundred percent
right. She said I'd probably be seeing a lot of you, so I'll introduce
myself. You'd learn all about me from some one else, anyhow, so you
might as well learn about me from me and get an impartial and unbiased
statement. Clever of me, ain't it, to beat 'em to it?"
Larry found himself smiling back into the ingratiating, irresponsible,
boyish face.
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