Ames ignored both the greeting and the extended hand. Turning upon the President, he said sharply: “So, the Express seeks aid in the White House, eh?”
“No, Mr. Ames,” said Carmen quickly, answering for the President. “It seeks to aid the White House.”
Ames turned to the girl. “Might I ask,” he said in a tone of mordant sarcasm, “how you learned that I was to be here this morning? I would like to employ your methods of espionage in my own business.”
“I would give anything if you would employ my methods in your business,” returned the girl gently.
The President looked in embarrassment from one to the other. “I think, Miss Carmen,” he said, “that we must consider our interview ended. This next hour belongs by appointment to Mr. Ames.”
A peculiar expression had come into Ames’s features. His thought had been working rapidly. Here was an opportunity for a telling stroke. He would play it. His manner suddenly became more gracious.
“Let her remain, Mr. President,” he said in a tone pregnant with meaning. “I am glad to have a representative of the New York press with us to hear you express your attitude toward the cotton schedule.”
The President caught the insinuation. His hand was to be forced! His indignation mounted, but he checked it.
“The schedule has been reported out of committee,” he replied briefly. “It is now before Congress.”