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He paused a second, glancing around, when he saw the name on the opposite
door. A flash passed over his face. "Ugh!" he muttered. "'Member now--been
to this place before! Glad she ain't sending a letter to _that_ man." He
stepped inside the open door before him, crossed the room and laid the
note near a man who was bending over some papers on a desk. The man
reached a groping hand, tore open the envelope, taking therefrom a card on
which was pencilled: "Could this by any chance be your Little Brother?"
He turned hastily, glancing at Mickey, then in a continuous movement arose
with outstretched hand.
"Why Little Brother," he cried, "I'm so glad to see you!"
Mickey's smile slowly vanished as he whipped his hands behind him,
stepping back.
"Nothin' doing, Boss," he said. "You're off your trolley. I've no brother.
My mother had only me."
"Don't you remember me, Mickey?" inquired Douglas Bruce.
"Sure!" said Mickey. "You made Jimmy pay up!"
"Has he bothered you again?" asked the lawyer.


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