"Oh! cut it out," said John Dene impatiently, "I don't want references."
"But," replied Sir Lyster, "this is work of a confidential nature.".
"See here," cried John Dene. "I started life selling newspapers in T'ronto. I never had a reference, I never gave a reference and I never asked a reference, and the man who can get ahead of John Dene had better stay up all night for fear of missing the buzzer in the morning. That girl's straight, else she wouldn't be asked to do my letters," he added. "Now, don't you wait," he said to Dorothy, seeing she was embarrassed at his remark; "nine o'clock to-morrow morning."
"I think it will be necessary to take up references," began Sir Lyster as John Dene closed the door on Dorothy.
John Dene span round on his heel. "I run my business on Canadian lines, not on British," he cried. "If you're always going to be around telling me what to do, then I'll see this country to hell before they get my Destroyer. The man who deals with John Dene does so on his terms," and with that he left the room, closing the door with a bang behind him.
For a moment he stood gazing down at Mr. Blair. "Can you tell me," he asked slowly, "why the British Empire has not gone to blazes long ago?"
Mr. Blair gazed at him, mild surprise in his prominent eyes.
"I am afraid I don't—I cannot——" he began.
"Neither can I," said John Dene. "You're all just about as cute as dead weasels."
John Dene walked along the corridor and down the staircase in high dudgeon.