"Young lady didn't come down to the train, hey?" says Uncle Jerry. "No, it makes her kind of nervous to see the cars come in," says I. "You're due to meet her this evenin', Uncle, you and Hermes." You see, accordin' to the plan, I was to stow the pair to some hotel, see that they was fed, keep 'em busy durin' the early part of the evenin', and round 'em up at a big society crush where Marjorie knew the folks well enough so she could ask favors. If Mildred had 'em come where she was visitin', there'd be no end of questions asked; but if she sort of ran across 'em by accident at a place where there was a crowd, and could have a few words with Hermes in some quiet corner, nobody would be the wiser. It was this last part of the programme I had in mind as I was sizin' up Jake's travelin' costume. And, say, how is it up there in the opodeldoc zone that they can get these high-water pant legs to fit so much like lengths of stovepipe? They was kind of a bilious brown and cut gen'rous in the seat; but, as far as real comic relief went, they wa'n't in it with the cute little short tailed cutaway that he sported above 'em. Honest, that coat was enough to make an eccentric song and dance artist green in the eyes! And you can believe me when I say I didn't lose any time in scootin' 'em down Fourth-ave. to a dollar a day house patronized by some of our swellest Texas buyers. My next move is to make a report over the 'phone. "Yep, I got 'em both under lock and key," says I to Marjorie. "Trouble to pick em out? Ah, it was a pipe! Specimens like that ain't so common anyone could get mixed if they knew what day to look for 'em. Yes, the nephew's along, all right. His real name is Jake. Well, Hermes if you insist. But, say, ask Miss Mildred if she wants him delivered in the original package, or should I hire some open face clothes for him." The decision is that Hermes must come in a dress suit, and if he ain't got any with him Marjorie will send down one of Mr. Robert's old ones. "Oh, I'm just dying to see him in evening clothes!" gushes Mildred over the wire. "I know he'll be perfectly splendid!" "Maybe," says I. "Only don't forget the collar buttons and studs for the dress shirt." Say, I won't dwell on the gay time I had tryin' to keep that pair out of sight until after dinner. Honest, if I'd been drivin' the monkey cage in a circus parade I'd felt a lot better; for every fresh gink that pipes off that vaudeville costume of Jake's has to have his say about it. At the hash house where I steers 'em up against a twenty-five-cent course dinner all the girl waiters got to gigglin' like they'd never seen a freak before.