And another item which for some time had not been pleasing Barney was
that Larry Brainard had not yet been finally taken care of, either by
the police or by that unofficial force to which he had given orders.
So he had good reason for permitting himself the relaxation of
scowling when he was not on public exhibition.
But when Maggie, after reading the invitation, tossed it, together
with a note from Dick, across to Barney without comment, the color of
his entire world changed for that favorite son of Broadway. The surly
gloom of the end of a profitless enterprise became magically an aurora
borealis of superior hopes:--no, something infinitely more substantial
than any heaven-painting flare of iridescent colors.
"Maggie, it's the real thing! At last!" he cried.
"What is it?" asked Old Jimmie.
Barney gave him the letter. Jimmie read it through, then handed it
back, slowly shaking his head.
"I don't see nothing to get excited about," said the ever-doubtful,
ever-hesitant Jimmie. "It's only an invitation."
"Aw, hell!" ejaculated the exasperated Barney in disgust. "If some one
handed you a government bond all you could see would be a cigar
coupon! That invitation, together with this note from Dick Sherwood
saying he'll call and take Maggie out, means that the fish is all
ready to be landed.
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