Bones stooped down from the table and laid his big hand on her head, rumpling her hair as he might have done to a child.
"You're a dear old Marguerite," he said softly, "and I'm not such a ditherer as you think. Now, you watch old Bones." And, with that cryptic remark, he stalked back to his desk.
Two days after this he surprised Hamilton.
"I'm expecting a visitor to-day, old Ham," he said. "A Johnny named de
Vinne."
"De Vinne?" frowned Hamilton. "I seem to know that name. Isn't he the gentleman you had the trouble with over the boots?"
"That's the jolly old robber," said Bones cheerfully. "I've telegraphed and asked him to come to see me."
"About what?" demanded Hamilton.
"About two o'clock," said Bones. "You can stay and see your old friend through, or you can let us have it out with the lad in camera."
"I'll stay," said Hamilton. "But I don't think he'll come."
"I do," said Bones confidently, and he was justified in his confidence, for at two o'clock to the second Mr. de Vinne appeared.