t is absolutely impossible. Come two months later, and I'll be glad
to lay you off as long as I can."

"This particular affair is most urgent business."

"Private, of course?"

"Not entirely."

"Couldn't be considered official?"

"It might become so."

"What is it?"

"That I am not at liberty to tell you."

Thorne considered.

"No; I'm sorry, but I don't see how I can spare you."

"In that case," said Bob quietly, "you will force me to tender my
resignation."

Thorne looked up at him quickly, and studied his face.

"From anybody else, Orde," said he, "I'd take that as a threat or a
hold-up, and fire the man on the spot. From you I do not. The matter
must be really serious. You may go. Get back as soon as you can."

"Thank you," said Bob. "It is serious. Three days will do me."

He set about his preparations at once, packing a suit case with linen
long out of commission, smoothing out the tailored clothes he had not
had occasion to use for many a day. He then transported this--and
himself--down the mountain on his saddle horse. At Auntie Belle's he
changed his clothes. The next morning he caught the stage, and by the
day following walked up the main street of Fremont.

He had no trouble in finding Baker's office. The Sycamore Creek
operations were one group of many. As one of Baker's companies furnished
Fremont with light and power, it followed that at night the name of that
company blazed forth in thousands of lights. The sign was not the less
legible, though not so fiery, by day. Bob walked into extensive
ground-floor offices behind plate-glass windows. Here were wickets and
railings through which and over which the public business was
transacted. A narrow passageway sidled down between the wall and a row
of ground-glass doors, on which were lettered the names of various
officers of the company. At a swinging bar separating this passage from
the main office sat a uniformed boy directing and stamping envelopes.

Bob wrote his name on a blank form offered by this youth. The young man
gazed at it a moment superciliously, then sauntered with an air of great
leisure down the long corridor. He reappeared after a moment's absence
behind the last door, to return with considerably more alacrity.

"Come right in, sir," he told Bob, in tones which mingled much deference
with considerable surprise.

Bob had no reason to understand how unusual was the circumstance of so
prompt a reception of a visitor for who