Phil Kendrick sipped his drink with what he flattered himself was a
fine show of unconcern. He even smacked his lips and complimented Mr.
Lawson upon the tang of that phosphate mixture he had invented; for it
was indeed of fine flavor, quite a delightful beverage.

"I believe you mentioned last night that Miss Lawson had gone in for
some kind of newspaper work--was on the staff of the _Recorder_, if I
remember rightly," said Phil with an air of one who makes conversation
for the sake of politeness. "I know the sporting editor of that paper
and I have heard McAllister spoken of as one of the livest and most
conscientious editors in the country. His staff swears by him.
Is--er--Miss Lawson still with the _Recorder_?"

She was. And very fond of her work. She had been inclined towards
literary matters almost since she was old enough to read. She wrote
her first verses when she was ten, although if she knew that her dad
was giving that away she would box his ears, and Nathaniel Lawson
laughed to himself reminiscently.

Two things were plain to Kendrick as he listened with interest to Old
Nat's homily upon the caprices of the eternal feminine--that this
high-spirited motherless girl and her father were very close to each
other and, paradoxically, that he knew nothing of her present
masquerade as a stenographer in Ferguson's office. For masquerade it
evidently was, and Kendrick's mind raced along new channels of
speculation which this realization opened up.

He was eager to get away and at the risk of discourtesy he emptied his
glass rather hurriedly, refused a second one, refused an invitation to
stay to lunch, and once outside the grounds fled in untoward haste.

He went up the stairs at the _Recorder_ building two steps at a time
and found himself at last in the little cubbyhole where Chic White sat,
surrounded by walls that were papered with half-tone pictures of
pugilists, baseball and football stars, and other athletic celebrities.
Phil was rather amused to note his own picture in football togs among
the rest. It served to open a desultory conversation which had no
bearing at all upon the object of his visit. It was some minutes
before he finally veered to the subject of women in athletics and from
that to women in newspaper work and from that again to the women
members of the _Recorder's_ staff. In response to his somewhat too
casual enquiry concerning Miss Lawson, Chic sat back and grinned
provokingly.