“Nothing whatever, sir.” Mr. King waved him away. “Well, now, Mr. Potter, if you'll be so very good as to get this information for me as soon as possible and bring it up to my house, I'll be very much indebted to you.” With a bow to him, in which the official was nowise included, the old gentleman and Polly and Jasper went off down the stairs again.
“Finkle, you're caught this time; you're in a hole,” the brother officials sang out when the card had been displayed around the office. “I wouldn't want to be in your shoes,” said more than one.
Finkle tried to brave out the dismay he felt at having offended the powerful millionaire railroad director, but he made but a poor show of it. Meanwhile the little, thin clerk, slipping the precious card into his seedy coat pocket, clambered up to his high stool, his mind busy with plans to unearth all possible information concerning Jim, the brakeman, as soon as the big clock up on the wall should let them out of the office.
“Polly, my dear,” old Mr. King kept saying, as they went down the stairs, and he held her hand very closely, “I think this Potter—a very good sort of a man he seems to be, too—will find out all we want to know about Jim. I really do, Polly; so we won't worry about it, child.”
Nevertheless, on top of all the rest that was worrying her, Polly had a sorry enough time, to keep her troubles from showing on her face. And after dinner, when the bell pealed violently, she gave a great start and turned quite pale.
Jasper saw it. “I don't believe it's any bad news, Polly,” he hastened to say reassuringly, and longing to comfort, though he couldn't imagine the reason.
“Oh, where's Polly?” She heard the girls' voices out in the hall, and ran out to meet them. “Oh dear me!” she cried at sight of their faces that confirmed her worst fears.
“Yes, oh Polly, it's just as I said,” cried Leslie Fyle, precipitating herself against Polly. “Now, girls, keep back; I'm going to tell her first.”
“Well, we are all going to tell too, Les; that's what we've come for,” cried the others, crowding up.
“Oh, what is it?” cried Polly, standing quite still, and feeling as if she never could hold up her head again now that the picnic was lost through her.