“I am sorry to have called you away from the sea in such weather as this, Mr. Gilderman,” said the manager.
“I’m sorry to come, Wright. It seems to me we’ve had nothing but hot weather ever since February.”
“How’s Mrs. Gilderman?” asked the manager.
“Not very well,” said Gilderman, briefly. “I suppose you wanted me about those copper-mines?”
“Yes, sir; the transfers will have to be signed this week. I’ve made arrangements with Mr. Pengrist and Walton, of Walton & Boone, to be here. Shall I send word to Mr. Pengrist now?”
“You might as well,” said Mr. Gilderman. As Mr. Wright touched the electric-bell he remembered the bulletin he had just seen posted at the newspaper office. “By-the-way,” said he, “I saw it posted on the bulletin-board as I came down that John the Baptist had been executed.”
“Yes; so I was told awhile ago,” said Mr. Wright. “I think it’s a pity that there should have been any dilly-dallying about it. Herod might as well have acted sharply in the first instance. He has gained nothing by all this delay.”
“I don’t think the Baptist ought to have been executed at all,” said Gilderman, briefly.
Mr. Wright smiled, and then looked quickly sober. He had for the moment forgotten Gilderman’s radical and socialistic proclivities. He thought that they were very foolish, but he was too practical a man and had too much good sense to argue the point.
The messenger-boy appeared at the open door. “Go down to Pengrist & Ball’s,” said Mr. Wright, “and tell Mr. Pengrist that Mr. Gilderman is here.”