He read this memorandum slowly, considering once more the details of his plan.
None of the other bookkeepers had yet arrived; he was alone. Jasper was in his office at the end of the corridor, a few yards away. After a moment Will went out into this corridor and turned toward Jasper’s door. Outside this door he hesitated, and one hand fumbled at his throat, then dropped to the pocket at his side. From within the office he heard old Jasper’s rumbling cough; and he knocked upon the panel.
Jasper called: “Come in.”
Will obeyed. He pushed the door open, stepped slowly inside, and thrust it shut behind him. He did not slam the door; nevertheless the impact was sufficient to make Old Jasper grimace with distaste, and clap his hands to his ears. Will stood still, waiting for the other to speak; and his employer barked:
“What’s the matter with you, anyway? Come here?”
Will moved slowly across the office till he faced Jasper across the other’s immaculate desk. He rested his finger tips on the polished surface, standing uneasily under the older man’s glare.
Abruptly Jasper cried: “Where’s your cravat, Matthews? You’re not half dressed, man. What’s got into you?”
Will’s hand flew to his collar.
“Why, I—I must have forgotten it,” he lamely apologized. “I’m very sorry, sir.”
Jasper snorted; and Will’s hands fidgeted nervously about the tall, old-fashioned ink bottle on the desk before him. The other seemed to hesitate; he cleared his throat importantly. At last he said: