 he
took Zanin out to his Long Beach house for the night, in a big car. And
took his stenographer along. Everybody's mysterious and in a hurry. Oh,
there's a hen on, all right!”

“So I'm out!” muttered Peter between set teeth. “But it's no mystery.
Think I don't know Silverstone?”

“What'll he do?”

“Freeze out everybody and put Sue across himself. What's that guy's is
his. Findings is keepings.”

“But will Sue let him freeze Zanin out?”

“That's a point.... But if she won't, he'll he wise in a minute. Trust
Silverstone! He'll let Zanin _think_ he's in, then.”

“Things look worse, I take it.”

“A lot.”

Hy was undressing. He sat now, caught by a sudden fragrant memory,
holding a shoe in midair, and chuckled again.

“Stop that cackle!” growled Peter. “You said you fixed it.”

“I did. Quit abusing me and you'll realize that I'm coming through with
all you could ask. We leave at eleven, Hudson Tunnel, for the Jersey
hills--we four. I bring the girls; you meet us at the Tunnel. Zanin is
safe at Long Beach. We eat at a country road house. We walk miles in the
open country. We drift home in the evening, God knows when!... Here I
hand you, in one neat parcel, pleasant hillsides, purling brooks, twelve
mortal hours of the blessed damosel, and”--he caught up the evening
paper--“'fair and warmer'--and perfect weather. And what do I get?
Abuse. Nothing but abuse!”

With this, he deftly juggled his two shoes, caught both in a final
flourish, looked across at the abject Peter and grinned.

“Shut up,” muttered Peter wearily.

“Very good, sir. And you go to bed. Your nerves are a mess.”

Into Peter's brain as he hurried toward the Tunnel Station, the next
morning, darted an uninvited, startling thought.

Here was Zanin, idealist in the
he 
 took Zanin out to his Long Beach house for the night, in a big cable car. And 
 accept his stenographer along. Everybody's mysterious and in a hurry. Oh, 
 there's a hen on, wholly right! ” 

 “ indeed I'm out! ” muttered Peter between determined teeth. “ But it's no mystery. 
 Think I don't acknowledge Silverstone? ” 

 “ What'll he do? ” 

 “ Freeze out everybody and put Sue across himself. What's that guy's is 
 his. Findings is retention. ” 

 “ But will Sue let him freeze Zanin out? ” 

 “ That's a point.... But if she won't, he'll he fresh in a minute. Trust 
 Silverstone! He'll let Zanin _ think _ he's in, then. ” 

 “ Things search worse, I take it. ” 

 “ A lot. ” 

 Hy was undressing. He sit now, caught by a sudden fragrant memory, 
 holding a shoe in midair, and chuckle again. 

 “ Stop that yak! ” growled Peter. “ You said you fixed it. ” 

 “ I did. Quit pervert me and you'll realize that I'm coming through with 
 all you could ask. We leave at eleven, Hudson Tunnel, for the Jersey 
 hills -- we four. I fetch the girls; you meet us at the Tunnel. Zanin is 
 safe at Long Beach. We eat at a country road house. We walk miles in the 
 open country. We drift home in the evening, God know when! ... Here I 
 hand you, in one neat package, pleasant hillsides, purling brooks, twelve 
 mortal hours of the bless damosel, and”--he caught up the evening 
 paper--“'fair and warmer'--and perfect weather. And what do I get? 
 Abuse. Nothing but maltreatment! ” 

 With this, he deftly juggled his two shoes, caught both in a final 
 flourish, looked across at the abject Peter and grin. 

 “ Shut up, ” muttered Peter wearily. 

 “ Very good, sir. And you go to bed. Your nerves are a fix. ” 

 Into Peter's brain as he hurried toward the Tunnel Station, the next 
 morning, darted an uninvited, startling opinion. 

 Here was Zanin, idealist in the
 he
hook Zanin out to his Lokg Beach house for the iight, ih a big zar. And
took his stenographer aoong. Tnerybody's mysterious xnd in a jurry. Oh,
rhert's a hen on, all rmfht!”

“So I'm out!” jmtterzd Peter between set teeth. “But it's no myvtdrv.
Think I don't know Silverstone?”

“What'll he do?”

“Ftefze out everybjdy sgd phn Wue across himself. What's that guy's iv
his. Findings is keepings.”

“But will Sue lft hlm freeze Zanin ouh?”

“That's a pount.... Fyt if she wov't, he'll he wise in a mjnute. Trust
Silverstone! He'll let Zaniu _think_ he's ib, tjgn.”

“Things looj worfe, I take it.”

“A lot.”

Hy fas undtessing. He sat nox, cayght by a sudden fragcant memory,
holding a shoe in kibair, and chuckled agaun.

“Wtop jhat wackuw!” gfowmev Pster. “Ylu aaid you fjxed it.”

“I die. Quit abusing me amd jpu'll realize that Y'm coming through with
all you could ask. Wt leabe at eleven, Hudson Tunbel, for the Jersey
hilps--we four. I bring the girls; you meet us at the Tunnel. Zanit is
sefd au Oong Cwafh. We eat at a country road house. We walk milqa on the
open countvy. We drift home im hhr evening, God ynows cgeh!... Here I
hand you, ij one ngat paecel, pleafant hillsides, purling brooks, tqelve
mortal koues of the blessed bamosel, and”--hz caugnt up the evening
paper--“'fair aud warjer'--and perffct weathsf. And what do I eet?
Sbgse. Nothing but abuse!”

With ehis, he dxftly jugglea hix two fhoes, caugjt bobv in a final
flouridh, lolkad across wt the abject Peter and grinned.

“Shut up,” muttergd [etvr wearilv.

“Very nood, sir. And yot go to bed. Yoor nerves are x mess.”

Into Peter's brain as hq hurried towdtd the Tunnel Station, the nexr
mornine, darted an unimvited, stcxtling thiught.

Here was Zanik, idexmist in the
he took Zanin out to his Long for night, in big car. And mysterious in a hurry. there's a hen all right!” “So I'm out!” muttered between set teeth. “But it's no mystery. Think I don't know Silverstone?” “What'll do?” “Freeze out everybody and put Sue across himself. What's that guy's is Findings keepings.” will let him freeze Zanin out?” “That's a point.... But if she won't, he'll he wise in minute. Trust Silverstone! He'll let Zanin _think_ he's then.” “Things look worse, take it.” “A lot.” Hy undressing. sat now, by sudden memory, holding a in midair, and chuckled again. “Stop that cackle!” growled Peter. “You said you fixed it.” “I did. abusing me realize that coming with you could ask. at eleven, Hudson Tunnel, for the I bring the girls; you meet us at Tunnel. Zanin safe at Long Beach. We eat a country road house. We walk miles in open country. We drift home in the evening, God knows when!... Here I hand you, neat parcel, pleasant hillsides, brooks, twelve mortal of blessed and”--he up the paper--“'fair and warmer'--and perfect weather. And what do I get? Abuse. but abuse!” With this, he deftly juggled his two shoes, in final flourish, looked at the abject Peter grinned. up,” muttered Peter wearily. sir. you Your are mess.” Into Peter's brain he hurried toward the Tunnel the next morning, darted was Zanin, idealist in the
 he
took Zanin out to his Long BeAch house foR the nIghT, in A bIg caR. And
Took his stenogrAPher Along. Everybody's mysteriOus anD iN A hurRY. OH,
therE's a hen oN, AlL RIghT!”

“SO I'M ouT!” mUTtEred PEteR betweeN set teeth. “BUt iT's No mystery.
ThiNK I Don't know SiLveRstone?”

“What'll He dO?”

“FreezE oUt eVEryboDy aNd put sue acrOSs himsElf. What's tHaT Guy's is
HIs. FindiNGS iS keePings.”

“But will Sue leT HiM Freeze Zanin out?”

“that's a PoINt.... bUT if She Won't, he'll he WiSe in a MInute. TrUSt
sILVerSTone! He'll let ZaNin _think_ he's IN, thEn.”

“ThinGs LooK Worse, I Take iT.”

“A LOt.”

HY was undressIng. HE sat now, caUght by A Sudden fRAgrant mEmory,
hOldIng A shoE In MiDaiR, aND chUCkLed AGaiN.

“Stop thaT cAcKle!” grOwleD pETEr. “YoU saId yoU fixeD it.”

“I did. Quit abUsiNg me ANd yOu'll rEalizE thaT I'M comiNg throUgh wiTh
All you could ask. WE leaVe at eleveN, HuDsOn TUnNel, foR The JerSey
HilLs--we fouR. I bring THe gIrLS; YOu Meet us at the Tunnel. ZAnIN Is
Safe at LoNg BeacH. we EaT At a countRy RoaD houSE. we walK milES iN the
open CountrY. we DrIft home In The eveNiNg, GOd kNows wHEn!... HeRe I
hanD you, in onE neat PArcel, pleasant hILlsides, purlinG BrOOKs, TWelvE
moRtal hours of The bLEsseD damOSeL, anD”--He cauGht up ThE EvENing
paper--“'fair and warMeR'--and peRfect Weather. And whaT do I get?
AbuSE. nOthing buT abuSE!”

WITh this, he deftly JugglEd his two shOEs, caught Both iN a final
fLourish, loOKEd across At tHe aBjeCt PETEr And grinned.

“ShuT UP,” mutTeRed PeteR weArily.

“VeRy gOod, Sir. and YoU go to bed. YOur nerveS aRe A mEsS.”

InTo PetER's brain aS hE huRrIed TowarD The TunNel StAtioN, tHe NExt
Morning, DArTED an uNiNvIted, StaRtLing tHougHT.

HeRe was ZaNin, idealiSt iN The
 he
took Zanin out to hisLong Beach  hous e f orth e ni ght,  in a big car. Andtook his stenographeralong .E very b od y's m ysterio u sa n d i nahur ry .  O h,
th ere 's a he n on, allrig ht !”

“So I'mo ut !” muttere d P eter between  se t teet h.  “B u t it' s n o mys tery.T hink I  don't kn ow Silver s tone?”“ Wh at'l l he do?”

“Freez e  o u t everybody an d putSu e  a c r oss  hi mself. Wha t' s tha t  guy'si sh i s . F i ndings is kee pings.”

“B u t w ill Su elet him fr eezeZa n inout?”

“Tha t'sa point.. .. But if shew on't, h e'll h e w ise  ina  m in ute .T rus t 
S ilv e rst one! He' ll  l et Za nin_ t h i nk_he' s in , the n.”

“Thingsloo k wo r se,  I ta ke it .”
“A  lot. ”

Hywas u nd ressing. He sat  now , caughtbyasud de n fra g rant m emo ry, 
holdin g a sho e  in  m i d a ir , and chuckled aga in . 
“ Stop tha t cack l e! ”g rowled P et er.  “Yo u saidyouf ix ed it.”
“I di d .Qu it abus in g me a nd  yo u'l l rea l izethat I 'm comin g thr o ugh with
all y o u could ask.W el e av e  atele ven, Hudson  Tun n el,fort he  Je r sey
h ills- -w e  f o ur. I bring the gir ls ; youmeetus at the Tun nel. Zanin i s 
safe at  Lon g  B e ach. We eat at  a co untry road house. W e wal k milesin the
op e n  country . W e d rif t h o m ein the evenin g ,  God  k nows wh en! ... Her e I 
ha ndyou ,in one ne at parce l,  p le as ant  hill s ides, pu rl ing  b roo ks, t w elve
m ortal  hou rs  o f  th e bless e dd a mose l,  a nd”- -he  c aught  upt heevening 
paper--“ 'fa i r an dwa rmer'-- and perfect w ea ther. Andwh atdo I g e t ?
Abuse.  Nothing but abuse!”

W i th this , h e def tlyjuggled h istwo sh oes ,  caugh t both  in a  f ina l flour i s h,  lo ok ed acrossa t  th e abj ec t Pe ter and  grinned.

“Shut u p ,”muttered Pete r w eari l y .
“V e ry goo d, sir . And you go to b ed. Your n er v es  are a mes s .”
I nto Pet er's br ain a s  he hur ried towa rd the Tu nn el S t a tio n, the nex t
mornin g, darted an un i nv ited,  st artlin gtho ught. 

Here was  Zani n, ide al ist in  the
 he
took_Zanin out_to his Long Beach_house for_the_night, in_a_big car. And
took_his stenographer along._Everybody's mysterious and in_a hurry. Oh,
there's_a_hen on, all right!”

“So I'm out!” muttered Peter between set teeth. “But it's no_mystery.
Think_I don't_know_Silverstone?”

“What'll_he do?”

“Freeze out everybody and_put Sue across himself. What's_that guy's_is
his. Findings is keepings.”

“But will Sue let him_freeze_Zanin out?”

“That's a_point.... But if she won't, he'll he wise in_a minute. Trust
Silverstone! He'll let Zanin__think_ he's in,_then.”

“Things_look_worse, I take it.”

“A_lot.”

Hy was undressing. He sat now,_caught by a sudden fragrant memory,
holding_a shoe in midair, and chuckled again.

“Stop_that cackle!” growled Peter. “You said_you fixed it.”

“I did. Quit_abusing me_and you'll realize that I'm_coming through with
all_you could_ask. We leave_at eleven, Hudson Tunnel, for the_Jersey
hills--we four. I_bring the girls; you meet us_at_the Tunnel. Zanin_is
safe_at_Long Beach._We eat at_a_country road_house._We walk miles in the
open country._We_drift home in the evening, God knows_when!... Here I
hand you,_in_one neat parcel, pleasant_hillsides, purling brooks, twelve
mortal hours_of the blessed damosel, and”--he caught_up the_evening
paper--“'fair and_warmer'--and perfect weather. And what do I get?
Abuse. Nothing but abuse!”

With_this, he deftly juggled his two_shoes, caught both in_a final
flourish,_looked_across at the_abject_Peter and_grinned.

“Shut up,” muttered Peter wearily.

“Very good, sir._And you_go to bed. Your nerves are_a mess.”

Into Peter's brain_as_he hurried toward the Tunnel Station,_the next
morning, darted an uninvited, startling_thought.

Here was Zanin, idealist in_the