Quoth he: "Hall I arsks is--wot next!" Thereafter he lowered his eyes
and regarded Spike as if he had been that basest of base minions--a boy
in buttons. At last he deigned speech.
"And w'en did _you_ come in, pray?"
"'Bout a hour ago, sir," answered Spike, dropping his cap in his
embarrassment.
"Ah!" nodded Mr. Brimberly, "about a hour ago--ho! By appointment, I
pre-zoom?"
"No, sir--by a winder."
"A--wot?"
"A winder, sir."
"A--winder? 'Eavens and earth--a winder--ow? Where? Wot for?"
"Say, mister," said Spike, breaking in upon Mr. Brimberly's astounded
questioning, "is he nutty?" And he jerked his thumb toward the door
through which Mr. Ravenslee had gone.
"Nutty!" said Mr. Brimberly, staring.
"Yes--I mean is he batty? Has he got wheels?"
"W'eels?" said Mr. Brimberly, his eyes rounder than usual.
"Well, then, is he daffy?--off his trolley?"
"Off 'is wot?" said Mr. Brimberly, fumbling for his whisker.
"Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike, "can't you understand English? Say, is your
brother as smart as you?"
"The honly brother as ever I 'ad was a infant as died and--but wot was
you saying about a winder?"
"Nothin'!"
"Come, speak up, you young vagabone--" began Mr.
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