"Mr. Onthank thinks he is sharp," he soliloquized. "He may change his opinion after awhile."
The farmer did not keep him waiting long. He re-entered the reading room, but not alone. Richard Darke was with him.
Clarence Clayton started to his feet in dismay. He recognized the detective at once.
"Sit down, Mr. Clayton," said Darke, smoothly. "I see you have been doing a stroke of business with my friend, Mr. Onthank."
Clayton did not speak. He did not know what to say.
"Let me see the paper, Mr. Onthank."
The farmer handed it to the detective, who read it aloud slowly.
"You agree to give his son a situation in your Wall Street office? By the way, where is the office?" and the detective bent a penetrating glance on the face of the adventurer.
"I believe I made a little mistake," muttered Clayton. "Give me back the paper, and I will correct it."
"It is quite immaterial. It will do as it stands. You have not told me where your office is."