"Will you call at my place at nine p. m.?"
"I will—whee-e-e!"
Welty Morne retires. The button is pressed again. Bate Yenger, assistant to the head bookkeeper, enters. He sits down, and looks indolent. He is a slim chap, with a fair face and black eyes, which show indications of night-hawking.
"Bate," said the impressionless Monroe, "have you met the new secretary after work hours?"
"Have not."
"Know anything of his habits?"
"Nothing."
"Do you want to go on a lark tonight?"
"Wouldn't mind it."
"Then come to my place at nine p. m."