A buzzer sounded and Bruce went to the telephone by which visitors announced themselves from the hall below.
“Mr. Carroll? Certainly; come right up!”
“Carroll? Didn’t know you were so chummy with him,” Henderson grumbled, not pleased by the interruption.
“I run into him at the club occasionally. He’s been threatening to drop in some evening. Seems to be a nice chap.”
“Oh, yes, Carroll’s all right!” Bud grinned. “We might proceed with our discussion of the Millses. Arthur ought to know a few merry facts not disclosed to the general public. He wears the mask of meekness, but that’s purely secretarial, so to speak.”
Carroll, having reached the apartment, at once began bantering Henderson about the Plantagenet Bud had lately sold him.
“I’m another Plantag victim,” said Bruce. “Bud’s conscience is hurting him; he’s moaning over the general depravity of the world.”
“He should worry!” said Carroll. “The Plantagenet’s shaken my faith in Heaven.”
III
Carroll, Bruce knew, was a popular man in town, no doubt deriving special consideration from his association with Mills. His name was written into local history almost as far back as that of the Mills family. In giving up the law to become Mills’s right-hand man it was assumed that he had done so merely for the benefit to be derived from contact with a man of Mills’s importance. He dabbled somewhat in politics, possibly, it was said, that he might be in a position to serve Mills when necessary in frustrating any evil designs of the State or the municipal government upon Mills’s interests.