Here I shall remain for the remainder of my days. You
see this robe that I wear?" Bellchambers caressingly touched the
straight-hanging garment: "At last I have found something that will not
bag at the knees. I have attained--"
At that moment the deep boom of the great brass bell reverberated
through the monastery. It must have been a summons to immediate
devotions, for Brother Ambrose bowed his head, turned and left the
chamber without another word. A slight wave of his hand as he passed
through the stone doorway seemed to say a farewell to his old friends.
They left the monastery without seeing him again.
And this is the story that Tommy Eyres and Lancelot Gilliam brought back
with them from their latest European tour.
VIII
THE GIRL AND THE GRAFT
The other day I ran across my old friend Ferguson Pogue. Pogue is
a conscientious grafter of the highest type. His headquarters is
the Western Hemisphere, and his line of business is anything from
speculating in town lots on the Great Staked Plains to selling wooden
toys in Connecticut, made by hydraulic pressure from nutmegs ground to a
pulp.
Now and then when Pogue has made a good haul he comes to New York for
a rest.
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