Everett mentally congratulated himself upon his diplomacy, while Horace bit his lip until it was ridged white. In his disappointment he cast down his eyes, and then it was that his attention was called to the paper Brimbecomb had dropped on the floor. He changed his position, and when he came to a standstill his foot was planted squarely on the paper. For a moment Horace was under the impression that Everett had seen him cover the letter; but the unruffled egotism on the face of the other betrayed no suspicion.
"Who ordered the withdrawal of the deputy?" Horace demanded.
Everett knew that the lies he told would have to be consistent; so he repeated what he had said to Ann.
"I don't know," Everett said. "I didn't."
Horace gazed at his companion for several seconds.
"Something tells me that you're lying," he said finally.
An evil change of expression was the only external sign of Brimbecomb's longing to throttle Horace.
"A compliment, I must say, my dear Shellington," he said; "and the only reason I have for not punching you is—Ann."
The other's eyes narrowed ominously.
"Ann is the one who is keeping me from thumping you, Brimbecomb. If you know anything of Fledra Cronk, I want you to tell me."