e sure you don't do any broadcast talking about the nature of
these special duties." The financier pointed to the check. "I'll say
quite frankly that I didn't select you for this service until I had
ascertained that you did no talking about your own affairs in the office
with my other clerks."

Bradish inclined his head respectfully.

"In financial matters it is necessary to pick men carefully. I trust
you understand my attitude. These transactions are quite legitimate.
But modern methods of high finance make it necessary to manipulate the
details a little. Your attitude in accepting these duties, as a matter
of course is very gratifying from a business standpoint. As a little
mark of our confidence in you, you will receive seventy-five dollars per
week hereafter."

"Thank you."

Mr. Martson allowed himself a quick, dry smile. "This isn't a bribe,
you understand. There is nothing attached to this nominal service which
requires bribing. We merely want to make it worth while for a prudent
and close-mouthed young man to remain with us."

A buzzer, as unobtrusive as were all the characteristics of Financier
Marston, sounded its meek purr.

"Yes," he murmured into the receiver of the telephone which communicated
with the watchful picket of the Marston & Waller offices. "Who? Oh, she
may come in at once."

"Wait here a moment, if you please, Mr. Bradish. It is my daughter who
has dropped in for a moment's word with me. I have something more for
you to attend to."

Bradish walked to one of the windows. He stared sharply at the girl who
hurried in. Her hat and face were shrouded in an automobile veil, and
the cloistered light of the big room helped to conceal her features.
But Bradish seemed to recognize something about her in spite of the
vagueness of outline. When she spoke to her father the young man's eyes
snapped in true astonishment.

"I couldn't explain it very well over the telephone, papa, so I came
right down. Do forgive me if I bother you for just a minute." She
glanced quickly at the young man beside the window, but found him merely
an outline against the light.

"Only one of our clerks," said her father. "What is it, my girl?"

"It's Nan Burgess's house-party at Kingston! There's to be an automobile
parade--all decorated--at the fete, and I want to go in our big car,
and have it two days. I was afraid you'd say no if I asked you over the
telephone, but now that I'm right here, looking you in the eyes