"After registering Wilbur called Marcus Mayer up on the
telephone. He grabbed down the receiver and after waiting for
about half an hour some dame said, 'Are you there?' Wilbur's
Nanny took the hurdle and he answered, 'Where did you think I
was? Playing pinochle with the King?' After a sharp struggle he
managed to get Marcus' hangout, but he wasn't in, so Wilbur
started out to hunt the American bar alone. In about fifteen
minutes he came back on the run with a couple of Bobbys about
two jumps behind him. It seems that Wilbur had found the
American bar and walked up to it and asked for a Manhattan
cocktail, because he was getting homesick and the bartender
said, 'Will you have it made with Scotch or Irish, sir?'
"Naturally Wilbur hit him with the first thing that came handy,
which happened to be a heavy beer mug. The bartender was a short
sport, and instead of trimming him with a bung-starter, turns
loose a yell for the law. So Wilbur lopes on, carelessly
knocking over a couple of cops on his way out.
"The two officers that followed him to the room were strong for
sending him to the booby hatch, but I had the presence of mind
to slip them each a piece of change and they exit laughing.
That's all that has happened so far, though we just got in town
last night and I am writing this before breakfast. Oh, no;
there's something else.
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