Tutt and Mr. Tutt
experiment," answered Mr. Tutt gravely. "It's bad enough when it occurs inadvertently, so to speak, but when a man in your condition of life deliberately goes out to invite trouble it's a sad, sad spectacle."
"Do you mean to imply that I'm not able to take care of myself?" demanded Tutt.
"I mean to imply that no man is too wise to be made a fool of by some woman."
"That every Samson has his Delilah?"
"If you want to put it that way—yes."
"And that in the end he'll get his hair cut?"
Mr. Tutt took a sip from the tumbler of malt and relit his stogy.
"What do you know about Samson and Delilah, Tutt?" he challenged.
"Oh, about as much as you do, I guess, Mr. Tutt," answered his partner modestly.
"Well, who cut Samson's hair?" demanded the senior member.
He emptied the dregs of the malt-extract bottle into his glass and holding it to the light examined it critically.
"Delilah, of course!" ejaculated Tutt.
Mr. Tutt shook his head.
"There you go off at half-cock again, Tutt!" he retorted whimsically. "You wrong her. She did no such thing."
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