Steve did not answer. He was gaping at the fittings of the place in
which he found himself. It was precisely as Keggs had described it,
white tiles and all.
He was roused from his reflections by the approach of Mamie, or,
rather, not so much by her approach as by the fact that at this moment
she suddenly squirted something at him. It was cold and wet and hit him
in the face before, as he put it to Keggs later, he could get his guard
up.
"For the love of----"
"Sh!" said Mamie warningly.
"What's the idea? What are you handing me?"
"I've got to. It's to sterilize you. I do it to every one."
"Gee! You've got a swell job! Well, go to it, then. Shoot! I'm ready."
"It's boric acid," explained Mamie.
"I shouldn't wonder. Is this all part of the Porter circus?"
"Yes."
"Where is she?" inquired Steve in sudden alarm. "Is she likely to butt
in?"
"No. She's out."
"Good," said Steve, and sat down, relieved, to resume his inspection of
the room.
When he had finished he drew a deep breath.
"Well!" he said softly. "Say, Mamie, what do you think about it?"
"I'm not paid to think about it, Steve."
"That means you agree with me that it's the punkest state of things you
ever struck. Well, you're quite right. It is. It's a shame to think of
that innocent kid having this sort of deal handed to him.
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