The Rubber Band

"It'll have to be tomorrow, Mr. Perry. The appointment can't be postponed. Anyhow, the day's nearly gone, and I couldn't do much. Mr. Wolfe sincerely regrets-"

"All right," Perry snapped. "At nine o'clock, you said?"

"I'll be there on the dot."

"Come to my office."

"Right."

I went and opened the front door for him.

In the office Harlan Scovil sat in the leather chair over by the bookshelves. As, entering, I lamped him from the door, I saw that his head was drooping and he looked tired and old and all in; but at sound of me he jerked up and I caught the bright points of his eyes. I went over and wheeled my chair around to face him.

"You want to see Nero Wolfe?"

He nodded. "That was my idea. Yes, sir."

"Mr. Wolfe will be engaged until six o'clock, and at that time he has another appointment. My name's Archie Goodwin. I'm Mr. Wolfe's confidential assistant. Maybe I could help you?"

"The hell you are." He certainly had a smooth sort voice for his age and bulk and his used-up face. He had his half-shut eyes on me. "Listen, sonny. What sort of a man is this Nero Wolfe?"

I grinned. "A fat man."

He shook his head in slow impatience. "It ain't to the point to tease a steer. You see the kind of man I am. I'm out of my county." His eyes twinkled a little. "Hell, I'm clear over the mountains. Who was that man that was in here when I came?"

"Just a man. A client of Mr. Wolfe's."

"What kind of a client? Anybody ever give him a name?"

"I expect so. Next time you see him, ask him. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"All right, sonny." He nodded. "Naturally I had my suspicions up, seeing any kind of a man here at this time, but you heard me remark that he wasn't Mike Walsh. And God knows he wasn't Vic Lindquist's daughter. Thanks for leaving my ideas free. Could I have a piece of paper? Any kind."

I handed him a sheet of typewriter bond from my desk. He took it and held it in front of him spread on the palms of his hands, bent his head over it, and opened his mouth, and out popped a chew of tobacco the size of a hen's egg. I'm fairly observant, but I hadn't suspected its existence. He wrapped the paper around it, clumsily but thoroughly, got up and took it to the wastebasket, and came back and sat down again. His eyes twinkled at me.