uld learn nothing from the silent, inscrutable
Beard.

Then, one morning, unostentatiously as he had disappeared, Whitmore
returned to his office. He wore a new spring coat, a new soft hat, new
gloves and shoes, an unfamiliar brown tie against a striped shirt-bosom,
as if he had just stepped out of a haberdasher's shop.

Down the long aisle, between the two rows of desks he passed, nodding
with that air of pleasant kindliness that had endeared him to his
hundreds of employes.

"Good morning, Mr. Whitmore--glad to see you back!" was fired at him
with respectful familiarity from a score of clerks.

He smiled amiably, replying occasionally with a cheery rejoinder.
Evidently he was in excellent spirits.

Whitmore's private office, at the rear of the long hall, ran the full
width of the room. It was partitioned off from the main room by a glass
partition through which he was at all times visible to his employes. The
office contained no windows, being shut in on three sides by the thick
walls of the building, and obtained its light through the glass paneling
of the partition. The floor was covered by a green carpet and three or
four chairs rested against the wall.

"Sam!" the merchant called to his office boy. "I shall be very busy with
my papers this morning. Permit no one to enter my office and don't bring
any visitors' cards."

Whitmore placed his hand affectionately on the boy's touseled hair.

"Don't forget my instructions!" he said pleasantly.

The merchant permitted the glass door of his office to remain open.
Divesting himself of his coat he dropped into the revolving chair at his
desk and swung around so as to sit with his back toward the outer
office.

Behind the transparent partition he worked, sorting papers and slipping
them into pigeon-holes. Toward noon one of the clerks observed that the
merchant had slipped down into his chair, that his head hung strangely
to one side.

"What's the matter with Mr. Whitmore?" the clerk asked the office boy.

The two thrust their faces against the intervening glass, noting that
the employer's limbs were rigidly outstretched and that one hand hung
limply at his side while the other rested on the desk.

They tiptoed into the office, like guilty schoolboys bent on
eavesdropping. A single glance at Whitmore's white face and they burst
through the door, their faces distorted with terror.

"Something's happened to Mr. Whitmore!" shouted the clerk.

Drummond, the he