Evening star., 1940-08-10

she stopped suddenly. The material
she was copying seemed familiar.
She glanced quickly through the
pile of reports beside the rented
typewriter. Yes, it was familiar.
She had seen those reports before
in the fling case marked "confl-
dential," the one that was locked
so carefully every night.
How had Hugo Blake gotten those
reports? She had opened that filing
cabinet by mistake a day or so be-
fore, only seeing enough of its con-
tents that she recognized them now.
Then Madge Fletcher had been
down on her like whirlwind. Only
trusted empl,yes, who had been
in the Office for a long time, could
open the confidential file.
She puzzeld over it for a while
before the explanation came to her.
OF course Hugo Blake wasn't just
head of the loading division. He
wasn't just another employe. He
was working for John Bristow &
Co. just to study this very material,
for the articles he was going to
write. No doubt he had been given
access to whatever information he
needed.
Nancy set to work then, glad of
az occupation to fill the evening,
even though it were no more
than copying dry-as-dust figures on
a rented typewriter. A little past 10
she had finished the work and tele-
phoned Hugo Blake.
Finished already?" he said over
the telephone, pleased surprise in
his voice. Then I'll call for what
you've done, if may. Perhaps you'll
so out with me for sandwich"
Grimshaw Gives Warning.
At midnight, when Nancy turned
out her light and prepared to sleep,
she felt there was new interest in
living after all Not only had she
earned some badly needed money,
but sitting in the little coffee shop
with Hugo Blake had been fun.
1t was little past 9 the next
morning. and Nancy was working
industriously at her desk, when she
was called into Mr.. Grimshaw's Of
flee. She felt a moments panic as
Madge Fletcher conveyed the mes
sage to her with an air of gloat-
ing pleasure. She had never dared
think of what she might do if she
were to be fired.
Mr.. Grimshaw looked up across
his desk, his thin. deeply lined face
drawn with anxiety and exhaustion.
Close the door and sit down.
Miss Ellis" He appeared to be
hunting for just the right words to
use. You're young. You have
your life ahead of you. I wish
you'd leave this job"
She was puzzled and more than a
little frightened.
"Are you firing me, Mr.. Grim
shaw"
He looked up at her, almost
startled. You know I can't do
that"
She puzzled over that for an in
slant, then decided it was because
OF John Bristow. For a moment
angry color famed in her cheeks.
Il understand what you mean,
Mr.. Grimshaw, But I'm going to
stay just the same"
"Suit yourself, Miss Ellis. I can't
do more than advise you
She went back to her desk, at
first too relieved at the knowledge
that her job was secure to ponder
over Mr.. GrimshaW's peculiar be-
havior. But as she attacked the pile
of work with renewed vigor, her
mind kept returning to the strange
conversation. Was it because she
was under John Bristow's protec-
ton that she couldn't be fired? Or
had something else been intended?
The Office manager had almost
seemed to be warning her.
Tom Urges Nancy On.
Would you mind saving your
day-dreaming until the noon hour,
Miss Ellis?" 1t was the sharp, cut
ting voice of Miss Fletcher. Nancy
bent her head over her typewriter
to hide the embarrassment that col
ored her cheeks, and went on work.
ing.
However the day that had begun
so strangely held a second surprise.
At noon as she was leaving the
lunchroom, Tom Cantwell stopped