“You didn’t like it very well, did you, Billy,” asked Mr. Prescott, “when I put that key back in the door?”
“No,” answered Billy, “I didn’t.”
“Just at that time,” said Mr. Prescott, “a great many things had to be considered. I decided that it was better to risk the key than to risk letting the man know that we knew what had happened.
“You never knew either, did you, how many nights after that I spent in the office?”
“Honest?” asked Billy, opening his eyes very wide.
“Running a mill, I’d have you understand, Billy Bradford,” said Mr. Prescott, “is no easy job.”
“It doesn’t seem to be,” said Billy, just as earnestly as if he had been a man.
“I must go,” said Mr. Prescott. “I had almost forgotten that I am one of the modern workers in iron.
“Billy,” he said suddenly, turning as he reached the door, “did you ever know anybody by the name of Smith?”
Billy’s answer was a merry laugh.