If Death Ever Slept

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t forget. I only forget faces I don’t care to remember. The only way I can account for it, you must have seen me in a dream.”

She laughed. “All right, now we’re even. I wish I could remember. Of course I may have seen you in a theater or restaurant, but if that’s it and I do remember I won’t tell you, because it would puff you up. Only you’ll need puffing up after you’ve been here a while. He’s my dear father, but he must be terrible to work for. I don’t see- Hi, Roger. Have you met Alan Green? Dad’s new secretary. Roger Foote.”

I had turned. Trella’s brother bore as little resemblance to her as Wyman Jarrell did to his father. He was big and broad and brawny, with no stuffing at all between the skin and the bones of his big wide face. If his size and setup hadn’t warned me I might have got some knuckles crushed by his big paw; as it was, I gave as good as I got and it was a draw.

“Muscle man,” he said. “My congratulations. Trust the filly to arch her neck at you. Ten to one she told you about the squirrel.”

“Roger,” Lois told me, “is horsy. He nearly went to the Kentucky Derby. He even owned a horse once, but it sprang a leak. No Pimlico today, Roger?”

“No, my angel. I could have got there, but I might never have got back. Your father has told Western Union not to deliver collect telegrams from me. Not to mention collect phone calls.” He switched to me. “Do you suppose you’re going to stick it?”

“I couldn’t say, Mr. Foote. I’ve only been here two hours. Why, is it rough going?”

“It’s worse than rough. Even if you’re not a panhandler like me. My brother-in-law is made of iron. They could have used him to make that godawful stuff in the lounge, and I wish they had. Look at the Derby. I was on Iron Liege, or would have been if I had had it. I could have made myself independent for a week or more. You get the connection. You would think a man made of iron would stake me for a go on Iron Liege? No.” He lifted a hand to look at it, saw it was empty, and dropped it. “I must have left my drink inside. You’re not thirsty?”

“I am,” Lois declared. “You, Mr. Green? Or Alan. We make free with the secretary.” She moved. “Come along.”