"I know it, boss! I know it!" said Jonas huskily, as he led the way to the street. There, Enoch insisted on walking the three or four miles home.
"All right," agreed Jonas, cheerfully. "I guess ghosteses don't mind travel, and that's all I am, just a ghost."
Enoch stopped abruptly, put a hand on Jonas' shoulder and hailed a passing night prowler. Once in the cab, Jonas said:
"The White House done called you twice to-night. Mr. Secretary. I told 'em you'd call first thing in the morning."
"Thanks!" replied Enoch briefly.
The house was silent when they reached it. Jonas never employed servants who could not sleep in their own homes. By the time the Secretary was ready for bed, Jonas appeared with a tray, Enoch silently and obediently ate and then turned in.
The White House called before the Secretary had finished breakfast.
"You saw last night's papers?" asked the President.
"No! I'm sorry. I—I took a rest last evening."
"I'm glad you did. Well, I think you'd better plan—come up here, will you, at once? I won't try to talk to you over the telephone."