"Thanks," says Blair, real crisp. "You needn't bother. I fancy I know Ferdie quite as well as you do." "Oh, I wa'n't boastin'," says I, "and you don't bother me a bit. If you think Ferdie's liable to remember, you're welcome to stick around as long as----" "I'll wait half an hour, anyway," he breaks in. "Then you might as well meet Mr. Hamilton," says I. "Friend of Mr. Robert's--Marjorie's too, I expect." The two of 'em nods casual, and then I notices Nutt take a closer look. A second later a humorous quirk flickers across his wide face. "Well, well!" says he. "It's Sukey, isn't it?" At which Mr. Hiscock winces like he'd been jabbed with a pin. He flushes up too, and his thin-lipped, narrow mouth takes on a pout. "I don't care to be called that," he snaps back. "Eh?" says Nutt. "Sorry, old man; but you know, up at the camp summer before last--why, everyone called you Sukey." "A lot of bounders they were too!" flares out Blair. "I--I'd asked them not to. And I'll not stand it! So there!" "Oh!" says Hamilton, grinnin' tantalizin'. "My error. I take back the Sukey, _Mr._ Hiscock." There's some contrast between the pair as they faces each other,--young Hiscock all bristled up bantam like and glarin' through his student panes; while Nutt Hamilton, who'd make three of him, tilts back easy in the heavy office armchair until he makes it creak, and just chuckles. He's a chronic josher, Nutt is,--always puttin' up some deep and elaborate game on Mr. Robert, or relatin' by the hour the horse-play stunts he's pulled on others. A bit heavy, his sense of humor is, I judge. His idea of a perfectly good joke is to call up a bald-headed waiter at the club and crack a soft-boiled egg on his White Way, or balance a water cooler on top of a door so that the first party to walk under gets soaked by it,--playful little stunts like that. And between times, when he ain't makin' merry around town, he's off on huntin' trips, killin' things with portable siege guns. You know the kind, maybe. So we ain't the chummiest trio that could be got together. Blair makes it plain that he has mighty little use for me, and still less for Hamilton. But Nutt seems to get a lot of satisfaction in keepin' him stirred up, winkin' now and then at me when he gets a rise out of Blair; though I must say, so far as repartee went, the little chap had all the best of it. "Let's see," says Nutt, "what is your specialty? You do something or other, don't you?" "Yes," says Blair. "Do you?" "Oh, come!" says Nutt. "You play the violin, don't you?" "How clever of you to remember!" says Blair. "Sorry I can't reciprocate." And he turns his back.