“Bring him on, then,” says I; “but it’s like playin’ a 30 to 1 shot.  Oh, sure, a couple of tens’ll be more’n enough for all the expense account we can cook up.”

And you should have seen me towin’ this Down East sphinx around town, showin’ him the sights, and tryin’ to locate his chummy streak.  It was most like makin’ a long distance call over a fuzzy wire; me strainin’ my vocal chords bein’ chatty, and gettin’ back only now and then a distant murmur.  It was Ira’s first trip to a real Guntown, where we have salaried crooks and light up our Main-st. with whisky signs; but he ain’t got any questions to ask or any comments to pass.  He just allows them calm eyes of his to wander placid here and there over the passersby, almost like he was expectin’ to see someone he knew, and takin’ mighty little notice of anything in partic’lar.

“That’s the Metropolitan tower over there, Mr. Higgins,” says I.  “See the big clock?”

Ira takes one glance and nods his head.

“And here comes one of them new double-decker Broadway cars they’re tryin’ out,” I goes on.  “How’s that?”

But no enthus’m from Ira.  Must be a hot town, that Boothbay joint!  Along about six-thirty I suggests that it’s time for the big eats, and tries to sound him on his partic’lar fancy in the food line.

“Plate of fish chowder would suit me,” says Ira after due contemplation.

“Fish what?” says I. “’Fraid we don’t grow anything like that on Broadway.  Nix on the shore dinner!  You trust it to me, Mr. Higgins, and I’ll steer you up against some appetite teasers that’ll make you forget all the home cookin’ you ever met.”

With that I leads him to the flossiest French cafe I knew of, got him planted comf’table under an illuminated grape arbor, signals Francois-with-the-gold-chain-around-his-neck to stand by, and remarks casual, “Wine list for this gentleman.  Cut loose, Mr. Higgins.  This is on the boss, you know.”

“What say?” says he, runnin’ his eye over the book that the waiter holds out.  “Rum?  No, Sir!”

“Flit then, Francois,” says I.  “We’re two dry ones.”

And my hope of gettin’ a tongue loosener into Ira goes glimmerin’.  When it comes to tacklin’ strange dishes, though, he was no quitter, followin’ me from bouillabaisse to cafe parfait without battin’ an eyelash, and me orderin’ reckless from the card just to see what the things looked like.

I don’t know whether it was the fancy rations, or the sporty crowd around us, or the jiggly music, or a combination of all three; but by the time I’ve induced Mr. Higgins to tackle a demitasse and light up a seven-inch Havana he mellows enough so that he’s almost on the point of makin’ a remark all by himself.

“Well,” says I encouragin’, “why not let it come?”

And it does.  “By gorry!!” says he.  “It’s most eight o’clock.  What time do the shows begin?”

“I was just go in’ to mention that,” says I.  “Plenty of time, though.  Anything special you’d like to see?”