"What have you been doing?" Arch asked him.
"Wasting my time."
"Is that so? Don't you like being retired?"
"Not a bit. Wish I could get something to do."
"That oughtn't to be hard."
"Well, it is, Arch. See, this time of the year and all. Maybe Bert told you I offered to help him out while you were in Canada."
Arch nodded. The waiter came for their order. Arch said, "What's it going to be, Scott?"
Hubert thought he'd like the blue plate luncheon. Arch said, "Make it two."
The waiter went away and Arch sat quiet for a long while. Then he said, "A fellow over at the club—I won't tell you who—said he thought you were broke. If that was the case, Scott, I could get you something to do. It wouldn't be much. It would only pay about thirty-five a week, but it would be better than nothing."
"Sure," said Hubert, nodding eagerly.
"Only I know it isn't true," Arch McKay went on. "Your house must be worth thirty thousand and you have the Packard and you've just bought that piece of property next to the movie theater."
Hubert's eyes widened and Arch added, "Well, your wife did. Same thing." The waiter brought the blue plates and departed. Arch picked up his fork. "So by my figuring you can't be broke."
Arch McKay fixed Hubert with his eyes. His glance said, "You act like a fellow who is broke; yet facts are facts. Clear up the mystery. Come clean if you want help from me."
