THE WAY OUT
Prescott at three o'clock the following afternoon knocked on the door of Mr. Sefton's private office and the response "Come in!" was like his knock, crisp and decisive. Prescott entered and shut the door behind him. The Secretary had been sitting by the window, but he rose and received his guest courteously, extending his hand.
Prescott took the proffered hand. He had learned to look upon the Secretary as his enemy, but he found himself unable to hate him.
"We had an interview in this room once before," said the Secretary, "and it was not wholly unfriendly."
"That is true," replied Prescott, "and as the subject that I have to propose now is of a somewhat kindred nature I hope that we may keep the same tone."
"It rests with you, my dear Captain," said the Secretary meaningly.
Prescott was somewhat embarrassed. He scarcely knew how to begin.
"I came to ask a favour," he said at last.
"The willingness to bestow favours does not always imply the power."
"It is true," said Prescott; "but in this case the will may go with the power. I have come to speak to you of Lucia Catherwood."