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I
suppose she gets considerable data where she is?"
"Only of the one department. But that's a fair indication of the
rest."
Dunbar rose.
"I'm inclined to think there's nothing to that end of it," he said.
"The old chap is sulky, but he's not dangerous. It's Rudolph I'm
afraid of."
At the luncheon hour that day Clayton, having finished his mail,
went to Graham's office. He seldom did that, but he was uneasy.
He wanted to see the girl. He wanted to look her over with this
new idea in his mind. She had been a quiet little thing, he
remembered; thorough, but not brilliant. He had sent her to Graham
from his own office. He disliked even the idea of suspecting her;
his natural chivalry revolted from suspecting any woman.
Joey, who customarily ate his luncheon on Clayton's desk in his
absence, followed by one of Clayton's cigarets, watched him across
the yard, and whistled as he saw him enter Graham's small building.
"Well, what do you think of that?" he reflected.


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