"Come in and shut the door," growled a voice. "What did she say to you?"
Pete summarized the conversation that had taken place in the library.
"She's swinging a big stick," he said, in conclusion. "The worst of it is, she's got the goods. It isn't me alone who is supposed to stay away from prize fights. It's you."
"She can't dictate to me," declared Bill, sourly.
"Don't be too certain. She can always carry it up to the supreme court."
"Who? Aunt Caroline?" Bill considered the suggestion. "No; I don't believe it. I don't think she's mean, whatever else she may be. In fact, she told me——" He paused. It did not seem necessary to take Pete entirely into his confidence concerning conversations with his secretary. "No, Pete; I don't believe she'll say anything. That is—not this time."
"Maybe," assented Pete, pessimistically. "I don't expect she will, either. But how about the next time? Are you figuring to reform?"
Bill made a scornful gesture of denial.
"But she expects us to reform, Bill. That's where the danger comes in. And she'll be keeping her eye on us."
"Well, I guess we're as clever as she is, if it comes to that."