Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1911-02-22


sirT' he repeated.
Really. couldn't say. Mr.. Ord" be-
gan Smithers, and then, as If the real
/ meaning of his employers insinuation
had pierced some sensitive spot. at last
he added forcibly. But wouldn't do
such a thing. you know, Mr.. Ord. beg
I ging your pardon"
"You wouldn't. eh? How do you
( know you wouldn't?"
81 couldn't. SIR protested SmitherS
warmly. You see the plaster I'm
wearing is a buniou plaster, and I
/ couldn't get the securities"-
Mr.. Ord raised a fat forefnger. 81
! didn't ask you for details regarding
! yOur personal ailments. Mr.. Smithers."
/ he said icily. There was silence for a
/ few moments while his little eyes
roamed from his three foot shelf OF
wisdom TO Smithers' now agitated
| countenance. He pulled the ticker
! tape toward him and studied the fig
ures as they slipped through his I'm
! gers. He had made rather a fool OF
| himself and the L. ID. bonds were as
| far from discovery as ever. Once more
| he turned TO his clerk.
Did you mention TO anybody that
| those bonds were in the vaultr'
Not a soul knew Of their presence
there except yourself and me. SIR"
Did you check over all the other
securities in my box"
Yes, sir. and every other security In
| the vault" returned Smithers earnest
| ~. Begging your pardon, Mr.. Ord.
you might recollect that in every other
instance of loss of papers, they were
afterward found TO have been mislaid
either by Mr.. Carson or yourself"
Enough" said Ord sternly. 81 have
| no such recollection, young man!
Now" pointing an accusing finger in
| the face of his uncomfortable clerk,
| he continued with measured accents,
those bonds bore a date stamp i'm
pressed with purple ink. How did
purple ink come TO be on your hands
and face, Mr.. SmithersY' Mr.. Ord shot
a glance at his bookshelf and then his
eyes came back to the face of his
clerk.
For the first time Smithers' face
wrinkled into a faint smile. Il was as
sisting Miss Fem TO adjust a new rib
bon in her type machine" he said
primly. Before had time to remove
these stains you called me-"
rs it one of the duties of my chief
clerk to assist the stenographers with
such duties?" Numbered Mr.. Ord fierce.
Iy. "What do hire Office boys for,
eh?'
In Mr. Smithers' opinion Office boys
were hired to loaf around the CORR
doris and discuss baseball topics. He
merely cracked another deprecating
smile and did not answer the ques-
ton.
Huh! I don't approve of counting
in the office. Mr.. Smithers," remarked
3ir. Ord, his critical eye still on his
employees pink face. He pressed a
button beside his desk, and the door
opened promptly, admitting tall, slen-
der girl whose black hair was twisted
in the latest fashion and whose bright
brown eyes seemed TO take in every
detail OF the situation in one swift
penetrating glance. Her gaze swept |
her employers desk and then came to
attention at Mr.. Ord's curt accents.
"Sit down, Miss Fem" 4
She did so, tapping open a notebook |
and poising her pencil.
AZ don't wish to dictate. Have you /
seen or heard anything of the L. d. |
vaults day before yesterday"
Miss Fem nodded. why, yes, Mr..
Ord. Don't you remember you sent /
me to the vault for them this morning |
after you talked with Mr.. Hughes over
the telephone? You were reading when
I came back, and you used the bonds
as a bookmark as you closed the book
to resume debating. Why, there they
hn MI
book from under his nose and removed
several beautifully engraved certih-
Gates from between the pages OF THE
Adventures of Sherlock Holmes"
There was a sickly smile OF enlighten-
ment on Mr.. Ord's face. IL
Thank you. Miss Fem; you may /
go now he said, with an effort. When
the door had closed behind her trim
figure Mr.. Ord recovered his self pos
session. He picked his hat out of the
basket, placed it on his head, compared
his watch with the clock, nodded ap-
proval at the hour of IL and drew the
telephone receiver across the desk. ala
by the way, Smithers," he said gen.
tally without turning his head, 81
suppose If you're going to get married
you'll need a little moro money. ehY'
II really couldn't say that I'd thought
about 1t, Mr.. Ord" said the clerk
meekly. Il
"Well. just tell the cashier to add
another hundred to your salary. I'll o.
K. IT. Don't mention it, Hey! Gen.
trail! Give me 1859 Livingston. HslloI
Hughes & Carraway? All, Hughes;
about that L. D. Now IL
Smithers closed the door softly be-
hind him and paused in the tiny outer
office where Bessie Fem sat before
her machine staring dreamily at a
blank sheet Of paper on the roller. The
Toung man leaned over until bis breath
famed her cheek. Bessie" he whis-
1ered, hes raised me another hun
ired. I'm sure ! can take care of
Tour mother as well as you. VIII you
marry me soonT'
Bessie's nimble fingers raped out
hree letters and an exclamation point, :