"Compound fractions, it seems to me. I'm making out the Brades' bill."
He came round the desk and stood at her side. "Let me help you."
"It's so fearfully involved." She looked up at him, and he wished they could do their sums on the beach. "Mr. Brade has been away since Tuesday morning, and we don't charge for any absence of more than three days. So that comes out of it. Maybe you can figure it—I can't."
"Charge him anyhow," suggested John Quincy.
"I'd like to—that would simplify everything. But it's not dad's way."
John Quincy took up a pencil. "What rate are they paying?" he inquired. She told him, and he began to figure. It wasn't a simple matter, even for a bond expert. John Quincy frowned too.
Some one entered the front door of the Reef and Palm. Looking up, John Quincy beheld the Hawaiian boy, Dick Kaohla. He carried a bulky object, wrapped in newspapers.
"Mr. Brade here now?" he asked.
Carlota Egan shook her head. "No, he hasn't returned."
"I will wait," said the boy.