s, nuisance all right, but it's my one best editor and that may mean
something real--terribly cheeky thing for me to do, Pete--bumming your
car like this--"

"Oh rats, you know you're welcome--and anyhow I'm lending it to you
because you'll have to bring it back, and that means you'll come back
yourself--"

"Well look, Pete, _please_ make all the excuses you can for me to
your mother. And I'll run back here and change and then go over to the
Rackstraws', as soon as I can--Elinor told you about Ted?"

"Yes. Sounds sort of simple to me asking him back tonight for that beach
picnic tomorrow when he absolutely had to leave this morning--but I
never could keep all Elinor's social arrangements straight. Certainly
hope he can get off."

"So do I," says Oliver non-committally and then the door of Mr. Piper's
office opens and Mr. Piper comes out looking as well-brushed and
courteous as usual but with a face that seems as if it had been touched
all over lightly with a grey painful stain.

"Hello, Father? Anything up from Secret Headquarters?"

"No, boy," and Oliver is surprised at the effort with which Mr. Piper
smiles. "Winthrop called up a few minutes ago about those Hungarian
bonds but it wasn't anything important--" and again Oliver is very much
surprised indeed, though he does not show it.

"Is your mother here, Peter?"

"Upstairs dressing, I think, Father."

Mr. Piper hesitates.

"Well, you might tell her--it's nothing of consequence but I must go in
to town for a few hours--I shall have them give me a sandwich or so now
and catch the 7.03, I think."

"But look, Father, Oliver has to go in too, for dinner--he's taking
the two-seater now. Why don't you let him take you too--that would save
time--" "Perfectly delighted to, Mr. Piper, of course, and--"

Mr. Piper looks full at Oliver--a little strangely, Oliver thinks.

"That would be--" Mr. Piper begins, and then seems to change his mind
for no apparent reason. "No, I think the train would be better, I do not
wish to get in too early, though I thank you, Oliver," he says with an
old-fashioned bob of his head. "And now I must really--a little food
perhaps"--and he escapes before either Oliver or Peter has time to argue
the question. Oliver turns to Peter.

"Look here, Pete, if I'm--"

"You're not. Oh _I'd_ think it'd be a lot more sensible of Father to let
you take him in, but you never can tell about Father. Something must be
up, though, in spite of what he