impatiently. "And if we miss the boat we lose our train."

Brown gazed skyward.

"I never felt this feeling so strongly in all my life," he muttered;
"it's--it's astonishing. Why, Smith, I _knew_ you were going to say
that."

"Say what?" demanded Smith.

"That we would miss the boat and the train. Isn't it funny?"

"Oh, very. I'll say it again sometime if it amuses you; but, meanwhile,
as we're going to that week-end at the Carringtons we'd better get into a
taxi and hustle for the foot of West Forty-second Street. Is there
anything very funny in that?"

"I knew _that_, too. I knew you'd say we must take a taxi!" insisted
Brown, astonished at his own "clairvoyance."

"Now, look here," retorted Smith, thoroughly vexed; "up to five minutes
ago you were reasonable. What the devil's the matter with you, Beekman
Brown?"

"James Vanderdynk Smith, I don't know. Good Heavens! I knew you were
going to say that to me, and that I was going to answer that way!"

"Are you coming or are you going to talk foolish on this broiling
curbstone the rest of the afternoon?" inquired Smith, fiercely.