"In Colorado, I see," said I. "And, by the way, Jeff, what was the
name of the little man who went to Denver--the one you and Bill met at
the station?"
"Alfred E. Ricks," said Jeff, "was the toad's designation."
"I see," said I, "the president of this mining company signs himself
A. L. Fredericks. I was wondering--"
"Let me see that stock," said Jeff quickly, almost snatching it from
me.
To mitigate, even though slightly, the embarrassment I summoned the
waiter and ordered another bottle of the Barbera. I thought it was the
least I could do.