"I'll run you down to the office in the car for that," laughed Wade, also rising. "I'm going out of town for a couple of weeks, Nat; but the next time I see you I expect to have some news that will interest you. And I'll give it to you in advance of publication." He slapped McAllister on the shoulder and they bade their host and hostess a jovial adieu.
But once Wade's limousine was speeding down the street the magnate fell strangely silent. He passed a cigar to McAllister and lighted one for himself. For fully five minutes he did not speak a word. He listened in a preoccupied way to the editor's opinion of the new city parks by-law and to that gentleman's surprise interrupted him finally by a statement entirely irrelevant.
"Cristy Lawson is a remarkably clever young woman," he said, gazing thoughtfully at a little electric light in the roof of the car.
"For once I can agree with you entirely," nodded McAllister, flashing a quick glance at the other's upturned face.
"I don't blame her for getting sick and tired of writing your pink-tea items. Why don't you give her a chance at bigger game?"
"You heard what her father said?"
"I did. I want to make sure that you did too."
"What do you mean?"
"Whatever you like," snapped Wade. "There are some jobs that even a clever woman has no business attempting, that's all."
"Why talk in riddles, Ben? What's on your mind?"