Mr. Jaffry shook his head and lowered his voice.

"With Betty hearing it at this end, and the committee from the Antis
sitting it out down there--the telephone's on the stair landing----"

He pursed his lips, waved his cap slowly to and fro and observed it with a
whimsical expression on his sandy face, then glanced out of the window. He
stepped closer, looking sharply down. A very fat boy with pink cheeks and a
downcast expression was sitting on a fire-plug. Mr. Jaffry leaned out.

"Pudge," he called, "come up here a minute."

On the Remington and Evans stationery he penciled a note, which he sealed.
Then he scribbled another--to Mrs. George Remington, asking her to hand
George the inclosure the moment he appeared from his work. The two he
slipped into a large envelope. The very fat boy stood before him.

"Want to make a quarter, Pudge? Take this letter, right now, to Mrs. George
Remington. Give it to her personally. It's the old Remington place, you
know."

He felt in his change pocket. It was empty. He hesitated, turned to Evans,
then, reconsidering, produced a dollar bill from another pocket and gave it
to the boy.

"Now run," he said.

The boy, speechless, turned and moved out of the office. His sister spoke
to him, but he did not turn his head. He rolled down the stairs to the