208
FIRE-TONGUE
"Certainly, sir," he returned, without hesitation; and stepping down upon the pavement he walked into the club.
Less than two minutes afterward a highly infuriated military gentleman—who, as it chanced, had never even heard of the distinguished American traveller—came running out hatless into Piccadilly, holding a crumpled visiting card in his hand. The card, which his chauffeur had given him in the midst of a thrilling game, read as follows:
Mr. Nicol Brinn
Raleigh House, Piccadilly, W. I.
And written in pencil beneath the name appeared the following:
Borrowed your Rolls. Urgent.
Will explain to-morrow. Apologize. N. B.