“I know,” said Madden. “It’s all right—we haven’t lost any time. I’ve already put in that call for your father.”
“Good idea,” replied the boy, without any enthusiasm. “Called his office, I suppose?”
“Naturally.”
Suddenly Eden remembered. This was Saturday morning, and unless it was raining in San Francisco, Alexander Eden was by now well on his way to the golf links at Burlingame. There he would remain until late tonight at least—perhaps over Sunday. Oh, for a bright day in the north!
Thorn came in, sedate and solemn in his blue serge suit, and looked with hungry eyes toward the table standing before the fire. They sat down to the breakfast prepared by the new servant, Ah Kim. A good breakfast it was, for Charlie Chan had not forgotten his early training in the Phillimore household. As it progressed, Madden mellowed a bit.
“I hope you weren’t alarmed last night by Tony’s screeching,” he said presently.
“Well—for a minute,” admitted Eden. “Of course, as soon as I found out the source of the racket, I felt better.”
Madden nodded. “Tony’s a colorless little beast, but he’s had a scarlet past,” he remarked.
“Like some of the rest of us,” Eden suggested.
Madden looked at him keenly. “The bird was given me by a sea captain in the Australian trade. I brought him here to be company for my caretaker, Louie Wong.”
“I thought your boy’s name was Ah Kim,” said Eden, innocently.
