t's I who am worrying about your salary, one way or the
other."

"No need of getting peeved about it," he suggested.

"Not in the slightest," she agreed.

But she did not wait for her eclair, and went back to the office in
anything but a good humor.

On the whole, Miss Winthrop was rather disappointed in him as a result
of this last interview--the more so because he had begun the day so
well. Her hopes had risen high at the way he approached Powers, and at
the seriousness with which he had listened to what Powers had to say.
He had acted like a man eager to learn. Then he had spoiled it all by
placing undue emphasis on the salary end.

This new development in Pendleton came as a surprise. It did not seem
consistent with his nature as she read it in his eyes. It was not in
character. It left her doubting her judgment about him along other
lines. She did not object to his ambition. That was essential. He
ought to work for Farnsworth's position--but for the position, not the
salary. The position stood for power based upon ability. That was the
sort of success she would be keen about if she were a man.

Curious, too, that Mr. Pendleton should be so keen about money in this
one direction. She had thought his tendency all the other way, and had
made a mental note that sometime she must drive home to him a few
facts about having a decent respect for money. A man who would return
the loan of a two-dollar bill in five dollars' worth of roses was not
the sort of man one expected to have a vaulting ambition for thousands
for their own sake. One thing was sure--he was not the type of man who
ought to occupy so much of her attention on a busy afternoon.

At a few minutes before five, just as Miss Winthrop was jabbing the
last pin into her hat, a messenger boy hurried into the office with a
parcel bearing a noticeable resemblance to a one-pound candy box. He
inquired of Eddie for Miss Winthrop, and Eddie, with considerable
ceremony, escorted the boy to the desk of that astonished young
woman.

"Sign here," the boy ordered.

Miss Winthrop gave a swift glance around the office. Mr. Pendleton was
at work at Powers's desk and didn't even look up. It was a remarkable
exhibition of concentration on his part. Blake, however, swung around
in his chair and raised his brows.

Miss Winthrop seized the pencil and wrote her name, dotting the "i"
and crossing the "t" with vicious jabs. Then she picked up the box and
hurried toward the