_Campbell_, scrutinizing them critically as he holds them: "Well, look here, Roberts, we may have to come to these yet. Stand up, old fellow."

Roberts mechanically stands up, and Campbell tries the top of the trousers against his waistband. "May need a little slitting down the back, so as to let them out a third, or two thirds, or so. But I guess we'll try an ice-pick first." He flings the clothes on the bed, and touches the electric bell.

_Roberts:_ "Ice-pick?"

_Campbell:_ "Yes; nothing like it for prying open bureau drawers." To Bella, the maid, who appears at the door in answer to his ring: "The ice-pick, please."

_Bella:_ "Ice-pick, sir?"

_Campbell:_ "Yes. The--ice--pick--here--quick."

_Bella_, vanishing, with a gesture of wonder at the pile of clothing on the bed: "All right, sir."

_Roberts:_ "But, Willis! Won't it bruise and deface the bureau? Agnes is very careful of this bu--"

_Campbell:_ "Not at all. You just set the pick in here over the lock, and pry. I sha'n't leave a scratch." They stoop down together in front of the bureau, and Campbell shows him how. "But what are you going to do? You've got to have your clothes if you're going to the musicale. Ah, here we are! Thanks," as Bella comes with the ice-pick, which he pushes in over the lock of the lowest drawer. "We'll begin with the lowest, because that's where Amy keeps mine, and if Agnes has got onto it through her, she'll be sure to do exactly the same. Now, then, I just scratch the bolt down with my knife, and Open, Sesame! What do you say to bruising your old bureau now?"

_Roberts_, as Campbell pulls out the drawer and sets it on a chair: "Perfect! Only"--he lifts the things from the drawer, and places them on another chair--"there don't seem to be anything here but underclothes."

_Campbell:_ "Well, then, we must get the next out. No time to lose.

Come! Keep shoving the pick in, and I'll scratch the bolt down with my knife. See? It's nothing." They pull the drawer out and set it on the floor, and Roberts ruefully contemplates it.

_Roberts:_ "Nothing but shirts, collars, cuffs and neckties."

_Campbell:_ "Ah, I don't know that. It's a deep drawer"--he begins taking the linen out, and laying it on the floor--"and the dress-suit may be at the bottom. No! Nothing here. You're right, Roberts. Well, now for the top drawer and the last. If we'd taken that out first, we needn't have taken out the second; we could have seen it in place. You ought to have thought of that, Roberts."

_Roberts_, with injury: "You suggested taking out the lowest first, yourself, Willis. You said Agnes would be sure to have put them there."

_Campbell:_ "Did I? Well, I knew I must have a reason for it. But come along now, Roberts, and push the ice-pick in." After a season of experiment with the pick and the penknife: "The bolt won't scratch down.

What are you going to do now, Roberts?"

_Roberts:_ "I don't know."

_Campbell:_ "But you've got to do something, you know. We can't just give it up. Where are those dress-trousers and waistcoat?" He begins tumbling the things on the bed, laying some on chairs, letting others drop to the floor. "Ah, here they are! Now, I'll tell you what, Roberts, you've got to wear these. Go into your dressing-room there and put them on, and then we can tell how much they have to be slit up the back."

_Roberts:_ "But where's the coat, even if I could get the other things on?"

_Campbell:_ "We'll think about that later. We haven't got any time to lose in talk. We can pin back the skirts of your frock-coat, as the travelling Americans used to do when they went to the opera in London.

Hurry up!" He gives Roberts the garments, and pushes him into the door of his dressing-room, and walks impatiently up and down amidst the chaos of clothing till Roberts reappears. "Why, that isn't bad!"

_Roberts:_ "Bad? I can't breathe; I feel as if I were being cut in two!"

_Campbell:_ "Nonsense! That's the way every woman feels when she's laced. It gives you a beautiful waist, Roberts! Ah, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! O Lord! Oh, mercy! Ah, ha, ha, ha!"

_Roberts:_ "Now, look here, Willis--"

_Campbell_, turning him round, and surveying him from different points: "No, no! Don't mind _me_! It's just my way, you know. I don't mean anything by it. I think these things look first-rate on you. There's no mistake about their giving you a youthful figure; we can just let them out a few st.i.tches, and you'll be perfectly comfortable. The only thing now is the coat. I'm afraid that pinning back wouldn't do. We'd better try something else. I'll tell you! Send down and borrow Merrick's coat!

He's still on the floor below you, I suppose?"

_Roberts:_ "Yes, but he's so thin--"

_Campbell:_ "The very thing! Those thin fellows always have their things made roomy--"

_Roberts:_ "But he's tall."

_Campbell:_ "That's all right. If you keep these things on you've got to give in some direction, and you're probably going to stretch." He rings the bell.

_Roberts:_ "But it's very late. He must be in bed."

_Campbell:_ "I'll fix that." To Bella, as she appears: "Bella, I want you to go down to the gentleman under here, and ask him if he won't lend Mr. Roberts his dress-coat. Tell him Mrs. Roberts has gone off to a party, and Mr. Roberts doesn't know where to find his coat."

_Roberts:_ "Oh, do you think she'd better tell him that, Willis?"

_Campbell:_ "Why, certainly! You must account for the request in some way. It'll appeal to his sympathy, and put him into a good-humor if he happens to have to get out of bed to oblige you."

_Bella:_ "They're all up yet, sir. I saw their cook on the back stairs when I came in. They've been giving a dinner--"

_Campbell:_ "Well, run then." To Roberts, as Bella vanishes: "Merrick can take it right off his back. But whilst she's gone we'll just give this lock another chance." They work jointly at the bureau drawer. "No, it won't sc.r.a.pe down. It's probably rusted in. You must get this lock oiled, Roberts." As Bella returns with a dress-coat in her hand: "Ah, here we are! That's very nice of Merrick. What did he say?"

_Bella:_ "I didn't see him, sir. The girl brought it."

_Campbell:_ "Well, that's all, Bella." He shakes out the coat as she goes, and looks down at it. "I suppose it amused Merrick. He's got a good deal of humor, Merrick has. I hope he won't give it to the press."

_Roberts:_ "Good heavens, Willis! You don't--"

_Campbell:_ "Oh, he wouldn't give real names. Merrick's too much of a gentleman for that. Come, try it on. We've got to hurry, now." Roberts backs towards him with extended arms and Campbell slips the coat-sleeves on them. "Easy, easy! It may be a little narrow for you in the back--No, sir! It fits you like a glove." He stands off and surveys Roberts, after smoothing the coat across the shoulders. "Yes, sir, like a glove--a glove that the pretty shop-girl has put on for you, after she's peppered it full of that white stuff to make it go on, and told you that you could easily wear a size smaller." He begins to laugh as he lifts each of Roberts's limp arms, with the sleeves dangling below his hands, and touches the skirt, which descends to the calf of his leg. "The most youthful figure I ever saw! Looks like a boy in his father's coat.

Merrick _is_ a tall fellow. I'd no idea--"

_Roberts_, looking ruefully over his shoulder: "You see it won't do, Willis."

_Campbell:_ "No, no! I don't say that, quite. But perhaps we'd better try something else. Who's overhead now?"

_Roberts_, desperately: "Baker. And he's short and fat--"

_Campbell:_ "Short and fat isn't at all bad." Touching the annunciator.

"He's probably had his coat made rather long and snug. It'll be the very thing for you. We mustn't leave a stone unturned, or a coat untried." To Bella, appearing at the door, and putting her ap.r.o.n up to control herself at sight of Mr. Roberts's figure: "Do you know whether Mr.

Baker's people have gone to bed?"

_Bella:_ "No, sir. I heard their second girl saying on the stairs that Mrs. Baker was up with a bad toothache."

_Campbell:_ "What a piece of luck! Run right up, will you, and borrow Mr. Baker's dress-coat." To Roberts, on Bella's disappearance: "Baker's coat will be all right; but still we'd better work away at this bureau drawer again. Drive the ice-pick in a little farther, now." They struggle with lock as before, until Bella returns, Roberts absent-mindedly keeping Merrick's coat on, and from time to time taking a turn about the room to rest his back.

_Roberts:_ "Let's give it up, Willis. We can't get it open. It's no use!"

_Campbell_, desisting: "Well, we'll leave that to the last, then. But I've the liveliest confidence in Baker's coat. Ah, here it is! Saved!

Saved!" He takes the garment from Bella at the threshold. "Now, then, the great thing is to get Merrick's coat off in one piece. I thought I heard a ripping sound in the back of it when you were straining at that drawer. But I guess it was merely fancy. Easy, easy!" He helps Roberts get the coat off, and examines it.

_Roberts_, anxiously: "Is it all right?"