Babbing knew; and he found it impossible to lie with assurance among the covered pitfalls of Babbing’s inquiring silences.
Of course, he could say that his mother had told Mrs. Jordan, next door, that he was working in the Babbing Bureau; and Mrs. Jordan had told her son “Dummy”; and Dummy had told everybody. And he had gone to the vaudeville show to get away from the curiosity of the neighborhood. And he was late getting down to the office because a bunch of fellows had been laying for him outside, and he had hung around, inside, waiting for them to go away, and—
Babbing was busy at his desk. He asked, unexpectedly: “Who was that you were talking with—on the corner—as I came in?”
It had been “Dummy” Jordan. Barney had to admit as much.
“He ’s deaf and dumb, is he?”
Barney hesitated. His story had cast Dummy Jordan for the part of village gossip. “Yes, ’r,” he confessed reluctantly.
