He slapped his leg a resounding thwack. "I knew it! I'm hardly ever
mistaken. Name's--wait a minute--Pardee, isn't it?"
"Yes. But how----"
"One of the best meals I ever had in my life, Miss Pardee. Two years
ago, it was. I was lecturing on Thibet and the Far East."
"Lecturing?" Her part of the conversation was beginning to sound a good
deal like the dialogue in a badly written play.
"Yes, I'm Brainerd, you know. I thought you knew, when you spoke up
there on the veranda."
"Brainerd?" It was almost idiotic.
"Brainerd. Paul Brainerd, the travelogue man. I remember I gave you and
your mother complimentary tickets to the lecture. I've got a great
memory. Got to have, in my business. Let's see, that town was----"
"Okoochee," faintly.
"Okoochee! That's it! It's a small world after all, isn't it? Okoochee.
Why, I'm on my way to Oklahoma now. I'm going to spend two months or
more there, taking pictures of the vast oil fields, the oil wells. A new
country. An Aladdin country; a new growth; one of the most amazing and
picturesque bits in the history of our amazing country. History in the
making. An empire over-night. Oklahoma! Well! What a relief, after
war-torn Europe and an out-worn civilization."
"But you--you're from----?"
"I'm from East Orange, New Jersey, myself. Got a nice little place down
there that I wouldn't swap for all the palaces of the kings. No sir!...
Already? Well, yes, it is a little damp out here, so close to the water.
Mrs. Brainerd won't risk it. I'll walk up with you. I'd like to have you
meet her."