he largest
director, regaining confidence.

"Sneaking snake in the grass," muttered the oldest director, yet without
his wonted vim.

"I'll telephone to McCurdy, right in the next block here," continued the
largest director. "Might as well have this chap watched to-night and
keep tight to him to-morrow until he shows up. We may find somebody's
behind him."

"'S my idea," said Breede, "some one b'ind him."

"Grinning little ape!" remarked the oldest director bitterly.

To Bean in the outer office came the facetious boy.

"Telephone for Perfesser Bunker Hill Monument," he said, but spoiled it
by laughing himself. It was extempore and had caught him unawares. The
harried Bean fled to the telephone booth.

"I wanted to tell you," began the flapper, "not to eat anything out of
cans unless I just perfectly have it on my pure-food list. They poison
people, but the dearest grocer gave me a list of all the safe things,
made up by a regular committee that tells how much poison each thing has
in it, so you can know right off, or alcohol either. Now, remember! Oh,
yes, what was I going to say? Granny says the first glamour soon fades,
but after that you just perfectly settle down to solid companionship.
And oh, yes, I want you to let me just perfectly have my own way about
those hangings for the drawing-room, because you see I know, and, oh, I
had something else. No matter. Won't I be glad when the deal is adjusted
in the interests of all concerned, as poor old Pops says. Why don't you
tell me something? I'm just perfectly waiting to hear."

"Uh, of course, of course; you're just perfectly a slinking gazelle. Ha,
ha, ha!" answered Bean, laughing at his own jest after the manner of the
office-boy.

He was back making a feeble effort to finish the last of Breede's
letters. He glanced mechanically at his notes. Above that routine work
he had so many things to think about. He'd fixed Tully for good. Tully
wouldn't try that "by the way" and "not impossible" stuff with _him_ any
more. And that little old man--perfumery not used since the Chicago
fire, or had he said the Mexican War? No matter. And talked to Breede
about heifers. But there was the big-faced brute, speaking pretty
seriously. Let him go free _to-night_! State's prison offence, maybe!
Might be in jail this time to-morrow. Would the flapper telephone to him
there? Send him unpoisoned canned food? Would he be disgraced?
Breede--directors--glamour wearing off--slinki