When Paul saw the red-headed boy he smiled again, mischievously.
"Bob," he began, "when you want to see who can stand on his head the longest, you or Danny the boot-black, don't you think you could choose a better place than the private office?"
The office-boy was quite as much taken by surprise as the porter had been, but he was younger and quicker-witted.
"And when did I have Danny in the office?" he asked, defiantly.
"Yesterday morning," Paul answered, still smiling, "a little before half-past eight."
"Yesterday mornin'?" repeated Bob, as though trying hard to recall all the events of the day before. "Maybe Danny did come in for a minute."
"He played leap-frog with you all the way into the private office," Paul went on, while Bob looked at him with increasing wonder.
"How did you know?" the office-boy asked, frankly. "Were you lookin' through the window?"
"How do I know that you and Danny stood on your heads in the corner of the office with your heels against the safe, scratching off the paint? Next time I'd try the yard, if I were you. Sports of that sort are more fun in the open air."
And with that parting shot Paul went on his way to his own desk, leaving the office-boy greatly puzzled.