"Turn your back," commanded the owner of the coat, "and hold up your
hands." Then, after he had slipped into the coat: "Now if I only had
my slippers--but never mind. We won't bother about 'em. They're in
my bed room, and probably lost under the bed. They always are, even
when I take 'em off out in the middle of the room. Ah! Nothing like
a fur coat, Cassius. Do you know what cockles are?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, never mind. Now, let's try Central again. Please remember
that no matter how distant she is, she still expects you to look
upon her as a lady. No lady likes to be sworn at at two o'clock in
the morning. Speak gently to her. Call her Madamoiselle. That always
gets them. Makes 'em think if they keep their ears open they'll hear
something spicy."
"They general fall for dearie," said Mr. Smilk, taking down the
receiver.
"Be good enough to remember that you are calling from my apartment,"
said Mr. Yollop severely. "Jiggle it."
Mr. Smilk jiggled it. "I guess she's still mad."
"Jiggle it slowly, tenderly, caressingly. Sort of seductively. Don't
be so savage about it."
"Hello! Central? What number do I have to call to get Spring 3100?
... I'm not trying to be fresh: ... Yes, that's what I want ... I
know the book says to tell you 'I want to call a policeman' but--
... Yes, there's a burglar in my apartment and I want you to--What's
that? ... I don't want to go to bed. ... Say, now YOU'RE gettin'
fresh. You give me police--"
"Tell her I've got you surrounded," whispered Mr. Yollop.
"Hello! Hell--lo! Central!"
"Jiggle it."
"Ah, Mademoiselle! Pardon my--"
Voice at the other end of the wire: "Ring off! You've got wrong
number. This is police headquarters." Audible sound of distant
receiver being slapped upon its hook.
"Gee whiz! Now, we're up against it, Mister. We'll be all night
gettin' Central again."
"Be patient, Cassius. Start all over again. Ask for the morgue this
time. That will make her realize the grave danger you are in."
"Say, I wish you'd put that gun in your pocket. It makes the goose
flesh creep out all over me. I'm not going to try to get away. Give
you my word of honor I ain't. You seem to have some sort of idea
that I don't want to be arrested."
"I confess I had some such idea, Cassius."
"Well, I don't mind it a bit. Fact is, I've been doin' my best to
get nabbed for the last three months."
"You have?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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