"I thought I understood you to say Mr. Schwartz is a real estate dealer!" Peaches continued, while the thermometer went lower and lower. "So he is," I replied. "Then why does his correspondent address him as a Tango Teacher?" friend wife said slowly, and I could hear the icebergs grinding each other all around me. "I think I can explain that," Bunch put in quietly. Then with the utmost deliberation he looked Ikey in the eye and said, "Mr. Schwartz, it's really none of my business, but would you mind telling me why you, a real estate dealer, should have a letter in your possession which is addressed to you as a Tango Teacher? Answer me on your fingers." [Illustration] Ikey delivered the goods. In a minute he had both paws working overtime and such a knuckle twisting no mortal man ever indulged in before. "He says," Bunch began to interpret, "that the letter is not his. It is intended for Isadore Schwartz, a wicked cousin of his who is a victim of the cabaret habit. Mr. Schwartz is now complaining bitterly with his fingers because his letters and those intended for his renegade cousin become mixed almost every day. These mistakes are made because the initials are identical. He also says that--he--hopes--the--presence-- of--this--particular--letter--in--his--possession--does--not--offend-- the--ladies--because--while--it--is--addressed--to--a--tango-teacher-- the--contents--are--quite--harmless--being--but--a--small--bill--from-- the--dentist." Ikey's fingers kept on working nervously, as though he felt it his duty to wear them out, and the perspiration rolled off poor Bunch's forehead. "Tell him to cease firing," I said to Bunch; "he'll sprain his fingers and lose his voice." Ikey doubled up all his eight fingers and two thumbs in one final shout and subsided. "I'm afraid we'll miss the 5.18 train if we don't hurry," said Peaches, and I could see that the storm was over, although she still glanced suspiciously at poor Ikey. "And, Bunch, you and John can come home with us now, can't you?" Alice asked as they started to float for the door. Then Ikey cut in as we started to follow the family parade, "I'm hep to the situation. It's a cutey, take it from little Ikey. I'll have to charge you $8 for the sudden attack of deafness; then there's $19 for hardships sustained by my finger joints while conversing. The rest of the 100 iron men I'm going to keep as a souvenir of two good-natured ginks who wouldn't know what to do with a Tango if they had one." As we pulled out of the Mayonnaise Mansion I looked back at Ikey to thank him with a farewell nod. He was halfway under the table, holding both hands to his sides and making funny faces at the carpet. CHAPTER II YOU SHOULD WORRY ABOUT AN AUTOMOBILE Say! did you ever have to leave the soothing influence of your own rattling radiators in the Big City and go romping off to a rich relation's for the week-end?