"Open that door again!"
"No you don't, Storey," came the fierce growl from the throat of the
Wolf. "Your game is up."
"The devil it is!" cried Storey, making a dash past Doddridge Knapp and
coming with a rush straight for me.
"Stop him!" roared my employer.
I sprang forward and grappled Mr. Storey, but I found him rather a
large contract, for I had to favor my left arm. Then he suddenly turned
limp and rolled to the floor, his head thumping noisily on a corner of
the desk.
Doddridge Knapp coolly laid a hard rubber ruler down on the desk, and I
recognized the source of Mr. Storey's discomfiture.
"I reckon he's safe for a bit," he growled. "Hullo, what's this?"
I noted a very pale young man in the doorway of the secretary's office,
apparently doubtful whether he should attempt to raise an alarm or
hide.
"You go back in your room and mind your own business, Dodson," said the
King of the Street. "Go!" he growled fiercely, as the young man still
hesitated. "You know I can make or break you."
The young man disappeared, and I closed and locked the door on him.
"There they come," said I, as steps sounded in the hall.
"Stand by the door and keep them out," whispered my employer. "I'll see
that Storey doesn't get up. Keep still now. Every minute we gain is
worth ten thousand dollars."
I took station by the door as the knob was tried. More steps were
heard, and the knob was tried again. Then the door was shaken and
picturesque comments were made on the dilatory president.
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