ward into his solar plexus. His vital organs sank inside him, rallied, and rose exultingly.
“Mr. Sullah-van! Mr. Sullah-van!”
Mr. Sullivan did not reply. The boy turned down the hall to the dining-room, and Barney sauntered after him. “Mr. Sullah-van! The head waiter at the door bent indulgently to ask Barney: “One?” Barney mumbled that he was looking for his uncle. Standing in the doorway, he searched the tables anxiously. “Mr. Sullah-van!” A man sitting alone at a far window, signaled to the bell boy. They conferred together. The man shook his head. The boy went on. “Mr. Sullah-van!”
Barney had seen his float bob to a nibble.
The boy passed him on his way out, and Barney followed. But there were no more nibbles—neither in the bar, the café, the grill, the barber shop, the wash-room, nor anywhere else. The boy went back to the desk. Barney returned to the telephones and stood looking regretfully down the hall at the door of
