At a few minutes before five, just as Miss 91 Winthrop was jabbing the last pin into her hat, a messenger boy hurried into the office with a parcel bearing a noticeable resemblance to a one-pound candy box. He inquired of Eddie for Miss Winthrop, and Eddie, with considerable ceremony, escorted the boy to the desk of that astonished young woman.
“Sign here,” the boy ordered.
Miss Winthrop gave a swift glance around the office. Mr. Pendleton was at work at Powers’s desk and didn’t even look up. It was a remarkable exhibition of concentration on his part. Blake, however, swung around in his chair and raised his brows.
Miss Winthrop seized the pencil and wrote her name, dotting the “i” and crossing the “t” with vicious jabs. Then she picked up the box and hurried toward the door.
“From a devoted admirer?” inquired Blake, as she passed him.
Don saw the color spring to Miss Winthrop’s cheeks, but she hurried on without a word in reply. He understood now what it was she did not like about Blake. Don was not at all of an aggressive nature, but at that moment he could 92 have struck the man with the greatest satisfaction. It seemed the only adequate way of expressing himself. Blake was still smiling.
“Sort of caught her with the goods that time, eh?” observed Blake.
“I don’t get you,” answered Don.
“Candy by messenger? Well, I’ve been looking for it. And when those haughty ones do fall, believe me, they fall hard.”
“Maybe,” answered Don. “But I’ll bet you five dollars to a quarter you’re wrong about her.”