With a rustle of surprise the paper was lowered, displaying a red-faced middle-aged man who looked considerably startled. When he noticed Arden he lowered his feet from the desk and tried to look business-like.
“I didn’t hear you come in, young lady,” he began. “What can I do for you?”
“Good-morning,” Arden replied. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” To gain time to think, she remarked about the beauty of the morning.
“Very nice day,” agreed the chief, for it was the head of the small country department whom Arden had intruded upon: a fact she observed when he donned his cap, officially, and buttoned his gilt braid-encrusted coat, which gaped wide open. He arose and stood at attention behind the desk, smiling as he asked:
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Well—yes. That is—you see——” Arden was quite flustered. But gaining control of herself she began again:
“I am at school—Cedar Ridge. The college, you know.”
The chief nodded helpfully, and a little look of wonder came over his face. It was seldom he came in contact with the college girls.
“I saw a circular in the post office, across from the college,” went on Arden. “It was about a man named Harry Pangborn, who is missing and——”
“Oh, yes,” interrupted the chief, very interested now. “The Pangborn poster—the place is full of them. Missing person posters. We put them up in public places and sometimes forget to take them down.”