Of course he asked why; and I told him, “I’ve word, which I feel sure is reliable, that there is a plot against your meeting.”
“Hmm!” said Sencort, evidently disappointed. “Much obliged for your trouble.”
Plainly, he wasn’t interested.
I said, “You’ll not meet in that room this morning?”
He was looking at papers on his desk. “Why not? I’ve had it examined. I’ve been warned before, Fanneal; so we’ve already taken precautions. These threats never amount to anything. Much obliged to you, however.”
“You’ve examined the pipes in that room?” I asked.
“Pipes?” he repeated. There’s always something about definiteness which claims the attention. He pressed a button on his desk.
The girl, who had got me in, reappeared. “Ask Reed and Weston whether they’ve particularly examined the pipes in the directors’ room,” he said; and when the girl was gone, he nodded to me. “Sit down, Fanneal.”
Some one rang him on the ’phone, just then; and when he was through talking, the girl gave word: “Not particularly, Mr. Sencort. They’re going over them now.”
Again she left us alone.