prepared for what he said when he returned to the telephone. "I'm sorry,
Mr. Blacklock, but we seem unable to lay our hands on that bill at this
moment."

"Why not?" said I, in the tone that makes an employee jump as if a
whip-lash had cut him on the calves.

He had jumped all right, as his voice showed. "It's not in our file," said
he. "It's House Bill No. 427, and it's apparently not here."

"The hell you say!" I exclaimed. "Why?"

"I really can't explain," he pleaded, and the frightened whine confirmed my
suspicion.

"I guess not," said I, making the words significant and suggestive. "And
you're in my pay to look after such matters! But you'll have to explain, if
this turns out to be serious."

"Apparently our file of bills is complete except that one," he went on. "I
suppose it was lost in the mail, and I very stupidly didn't notice the gap
in the numbers."

"Stupid isn't the word I'd use," said I, with a laugh that wasn't of the
kind that cheers. And I rang off and asked for the state capitol on the
"long distance."

Before I got my connection Saxe, whose office was only two blocks away,
came flustering in. "The boy has been discharged, Mr. Blacklock," he began.