CHAPTER V
THE TURN OF FORTUNE'S WHEEL
“Is Mr. M'Clinton in?”
The clerk, in a species of rabbit hutch, glanced out curiously at the young flying officer.
“Yes; but he's very busy. Have you an appointment?”
“No—I got leave unexpectedly. Just take him my card, will you?”
The clerk handed the card to another clerk, who passed it to an office-boy, who disappeared with it behind a heavy oaken door. He came back presently.
“Mr. M'Clinton will see you in ten minutes, if you can wait, sir.”
“I'll wait,” said Bob, sitting down upon a high stool. “Got a paper?”