The inspector spoke blandly to him, and politely refused to interrupt Mrs. Penton's party.
"Just you open up for us, Mr. Penton," he said, "and go back to your—customers! The staff and myself will get the work started."
Evan was watching not the inspector but the manager. Penton's eyes moved uneasily in their sockets, and he protested:
"Oh, no, they won't miss me. I'll jump right in with you."
Castle was delving in his bag.
"Well," he said, "I suppose you know them best; but I don't want to interfere with—business."
Penton laughed, relieved, at the remark, and hurried into his apartments to excuse himself. The party folk were awed by mention of the inspector, and their interest gave Penton an idea: he would introduce Castle to them. The inspector thought the suggestion a good one. Penton whispered him hints about the men whom he would present, so that Mr. Castle might know how to dispense his pretty words. Evan listened to those whisperings until they were silent in the hall that led to Penton's house, and an uncomfortable feeling crept over him. The manager was currying Castle's favor.
Henty and Filter came out to the office before Penton and the inspector.
"What do you know about that!" cried Henty, crimson.
The teller smiled faintly. Filter's pallid face was glowing in anticipation of coming balances. It was ten o'clock.