"He says they have already started the wheels to moving."
"And you, daddy; you?"
Jefferson Worth arose and carefully closed the door. Then silently indicating the chair at the end of his desk he resumed his seat.
As Barbara looked into that mask-like face, the eager expectant light in her brown eyes died out and a look of questioning doubt came. She seemed to shrink back from him almost as she had turned away that first time in the desert.
If Jefferson Worth felt that look his face gave no sign; only those thin, nervous fingers were lifted to caress his chin.
"Are you—are you going to help, daddy? Will you join Mr. Greenfield's company?"
Still the man was silent, and the girl, watching, wondered what was going on behind that gray mask, what questions were being weighed and considered.
At last he spoke one cold word: "Why?"
Barbara flushed. "Because," she answered, carefully, "because it is such a great work. You could do so much more than simply make money."
"That is as you and the Seer see it."