"It might be just as well for you to come along," he said significantly. "I've several things to say to your father that it might be just as well for you to hear."
"Just as you say!" But Mr. Bill showed no interest in a visit to his father's office, nor in what Joe was going to say to his father. He was as flat as a pricked balloon. A moment before, he had been floating high in the sky, a round rosy ball, and now he lay on the dirty pavement, nothing but a bit of dingy red rubber. He took another look at Mary Smith, but she had disappeared around the carpet-sweepers, and he followed Joe to the elevator and to the office.
Mr. Kingley looked up as they entered. "Huh!" he grunted, and they could regard themselves as welcome or not as they pleased. Joe walked over until he stood in front of the flat desk where Mr. Kingley would have to look at him if he looked at anything.
"Mr. Kingley," he began, but Mr. Kingley preferred to lead the discussion.
"Have you found our queen?" he asked, and there really was an interest, an anxiety, in his voice.
"No, we haven't!" exclaimed Mr. Bill before Joe could gather breath to repeat with crushing sarcasm the phrase "our queen" which so irritated him. "Just for a moment, when we were at her old home, I had a hunch that she might be hiding herself from those darned Sunshine Sons and that she would think there would be no place as safe as her old job in the Evergreen basement, but she isn't there."
"My soul!" interrupted Mr. Kingley, and his eyes fairly stood on his cheeks. "Are you sure! That would make a striking story. The little queen driven back to the Evergreen where she was found!" He smacked his lips as he voiced the headline he quickly composed. "Are you sure, Bill?" He hoped that Mr. Bill would not be sure.
"You don't think of anything but headlines, do you, Mr. Kingley?" Joe broke in rudely. "You never think of Tessie as a young girl, a human being? You only think of her as publicity for the Evergreen!"
"Well, but—but—" spluttered Mr. Kingley, staring at Joe indignantly. Didn't Joe know that the welfare department of the Evergreen was the best in the Northwest? That didn't look as if he failed to regard his employees as human beings. As for publicity, even the Kingleys furnished publicity for the Evergreen. Every time Mrs. Kingley went east or Ethel had a friend in for a cup of tea, there was a notice in the Gazette. To be sure, the notice did not always mention the Evergreen, but in the Waloo mind, the name of Kingley meant Evergreen. The two were synonymous. Joe should remember that. Really Joe was impossible. He should remember all that Mr. Kingley had done for Tessie since she became a queen, clothed her, introduced her to Waloo and aided her in every way. He had a perfect right to be indignant at Joe and to glare at him hotly.
"What I want to know is, how much the Evergreen is responsible for this kidnaping?" went on Joe, as cold as Mr. Kingley was hot. They might have been the two extremities of a dinner—hot soup and frozen pudding. Joe did not seem to care a pin if Mr. Kingley did sputter and glare at him.