“It is very late,” he said. “Mr. Colton is not in the 'abit of receiving callers at this time of night and—”
He was interrupted. The door behind him, the door leading from the library to the hall, opened and Colton himself appeared.
“What is it, Johnson?” he asked. “Anything wrong?”
The butler hastened to explain.
“No sir,” he said; “nothing wrong exactly, sir. There is a person 'ere to see you, sir, and—”
“To see me, eh? Who is it? Why, hello, Paine! is that you?”
“Mr. Colton,” said I, “I am sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, but—”
“Come in, come in,” he interrupted. “What are you standing out there for? Johnson, why didn't you ask Mr. Paine in? What do you mean by keeping him out there?”
Mr. Johnson looked troubled.
“It was so late, sir,” he stammered, “I thought—”