or in the cautious, apologetic tone with which wise
office girls break in upon the meditations of their employers.

"Pardon me, Mr. Harwood. Shall I say you're engaged. It's Mr. Thatcher."

Dan half-turned and replied with a tameness Rose had not expected.

"Say what you please, Rose; only I don't want to talk to him or see him,
or anybody."

The clock in the court-house tower boomed nine sombrely. Dan distrusted
its accuracy as he distrusted everything in the world that morning. He
walked listlessly to the window and compared the face of the clock with
his watch. He had thought it must be noon; but the hour of the day did
not matter greatly.

"It's all right," said Rose meekly from the door. "I told him you were
probably at the State House."

"Whom? Oh, thank you, Rose." And then, as though to ease her conscience
for this mild mendacity, he added: "I believe I did have an engagement
over there at nine."

"He said--" Rose began warily; and then gave him an opportunity to cut
her short.

"What did he say?"

"Oh, he was hot! He said if you came in before he found you, to say that
if you and Ramsay didn't help him deliver the freight to-day he would
get action to-morrow; that that's the limit."

"He said to-morrow, did he? Very well, Rose. That's all."

Rose, virtuously indexing the letter-book, saw Harwood as he idly ranged
the rooms try the hall door to make sure it was bolted. Then he stood at
the window of his own room, staring at nothing. The telephone chimed
cheerfully at intervals. Ramsay sought him; Thatcher had stationed one
of his allies at a telephone booth in the State House corridor to call
the office at regular intervals. Newspaper reporters demanded to know
where Harwood could be found; the governor, rankling under the criticism
he had brought upon his party by the special session, wished to see
Harwood to learn when, if possible, the legislature would take itself
home. To these continual importunities Rose replied in tones of
surprise, regret, or chagrin, as the individual case demanded, without
again troubling her employer. The index completed, she filed papers,
smoothed her yellow hair at the wash stand, exchanged fraternal signals
with a girl friend in the office opposite, and read the "Courier's"
report of the senatorial struggle with complete understanding of its
intricacies.

"Rose!"

It was twelve o'clock when Harwood called her. He had brushed aside the
mass of documents she had not