him, and it was with surprise which both Kennedy and I had great
difficulty in concealing, that we heard him reply, "Hello--yes--
oh, Mrs. Ogleby, good-morning. How are you? That's good. So you,
too, read the papers. No, I haven't lost anything of importance,
thank you. Nothing serious, you know. The papers like to get hold
of such things and play them up. I have a couple of reporters here
now. Heaven knows what they are doing, but I can foresee some more
unpaid advertising for the firm in it. Thank you again for your
interest. You haven't forgotten the studio dance I'm giving on the
twelfth? No--that's fine. I hope you'll come, even if Martin has
another engagement. Fine. Well-good-bye."

He hung up the receiver with a mingled air of gratification and
exasperation, I fancied.

"Haven't you fellows finished yet?" he asked finally, coming over
to us, a little brusquely.

"Just about," returned Kennedy, who had by this time begun slowly
to dismember and pack up the dynamometer, determined to take
advantage of every minute both to observe Langhorne and to fix in
his mind the general lay-out of the office.

"Everybody seems to be interested in me this morning," he
observed, for the moment forgetting the embargo he had imposed on
his own words.

As for myself, I saw at once that others besides ourselves were
keenly interested in this robbery.