Well, that was 1:15 a.m. And at exactly 2:30 he limps out with his hand to his right side and his face the color of cigar ashes. He's in for another spell. I gets his heart specialist on the 'phone and loads Mr. Ellins into a taxi. Just before closin' time he calls up from the house to say that he's off to the sanitarium for another treatment and may be gone a couple of weeks. I must tell Mr. Robert about those options, have him sub. in at the next directors' meetin', and do a lot of odd jobs that he'd left unfinished. "And by the way, Torchy," he winds up, "about Bonnie." "Oh, yes," says I. "The lady fascinator." "If she should show up while I am away," says Old Hickory, "don't--don't bother to tell her I'm a sick old man. Just say I--I've been called out of town, or something." "I get you," says I. "Business trip." "She'll be disappointed, I suppose," goes on Mr. Ellins. "No one to take her around town. That is, unless--By George, Torchy!--You must take my place." "Eh?" says I, gaspy. "Yes," says he. "You lucky young rascal! You shall be the one to welcome Bonnie back to New York. And do it right, son. Draw on Mr. Piddie for any amount you may need. Nothing but the best for Bonnie. You understand. That is, if she comes before I get back." Say, I've had some odd assignments from Old Hickory, but never one just like this before. Some contract that, to take an ex-home wrecker in tow and give her the kind of a good time that was popular in the days of Berry Wall. If I could only dig up some old sport with a good memory he might coach me so that I might make a stab at it, but I didn't know where to find one. And for three days there I made nervous motions every time Vincent came in off the gate with a card. But a week went by and no Bonnie blew in from up state. Maybe she'd renigged on the proposition, or had hunted up some other friend of the old days. Anyway, I'd got my nerves soothed down considerable and was almost countin' the incident as closed, when here the other day as I drifts back from lunch Vincent holds me up. "Lady to see Mr. Ellins," says he. "She's in the private office." "Sad words, Vincent," says I. "Don't tell me it's Bonnie." "Nothing like that," says he. "Here's her name," and he hands me a black-bordered card. "Huh!" says I, taking a glance. "Senora Concita Maria y Polanio. All of that, eh? Must be some whale of a female?" "Whale is near it," says Vincent. "You ought to see her." "The worst of it is," says I, "I gotta see her."