Chapter 25
"I'll get my check from the Gamin on Saturday," said Grief. "They bought that string of comics." "Well, then, we'll arrange the present funds to last until Saturday noon," said Wrinkles. "That gives us quite a lot. We can have a table d'h** on Friday night." However, the cashier of the Gamin office looked under his respectable brass wiring and said: "Very sorry, Mr.--er--Warwickson, but our pay-day is Monday. Come around any time after ten." "Oh, it doesn't matter," said Grief. When he plunged into the den his visage flamed with rage. "Don't get my check until Monday morning, any time after ten!" he yelled, and flung a portfolio of mottled green into the danger zone of the casts. "Thunder!" said Pennoyer, sinking at once into a profound despair "Monday morning, any time after ten," m
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