Frawley
laid down the menu carefully, raised his head, and answered quietly:
"Why, how d'ye do, Bucky?"
III
"We shake, of course," said Greenfield, holding out his hand.
"Why not? Sit down."
The fugitive slid into a chair and hung his arms over the back, asking
immediately:
"What took you so long? You're after me, of course?"
"Am I?" Frawley answered, looking at him steadily. Greenfield, with a
twitch of his shoulders, returned to his question:
"What took you so long? Didn't you guess I'd come direct?"
"I'm not guessing," said Frawley.
"What do you say to dining on me?" said Greenfield with a malicious
smile. "I owe you that. I clipped your vacation pretty short.
Besides--guess you know it yourself--you can't touch me here. Why not
talk things over frankly? Say, Bub, shall it be on me?"
"I'm willing."
A waiter sidled up and took the order that Greenfield gave without
hesitation.
"You see, even the dinner was ready for you," he said with a wink; "see
how you like it." With a gesture of impatience he pushed aside the menu,
squared his arms on the table, and looked suddenly at his pursuer with
the deviltry of a schoolboy glistening in his eyes.
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