“A week ago.”
Perplexed, Mr. Gandiss stared at the girl’s factory badge. There could be no mistake. Plainly it bore the number 567.
“You like the work?” he asked after an awkward silence.
“Not very well,” she confessed truthfully. “However, I can use the pay I receive.”
“During the daytime I believe you help your father aboard the River Queen,” Mr. Gandiss resumed, trying to be friendly. “Rather a strenuous program. When do you sleep?”
“Oh, I get enough rest.” Sally spoke indifferently, though her eyes were red and she looked tired. “Pop didn’t want me to take the job, but I have a special use for the money.”
“Pretty clothes, I suppose—or perhaps a new sailboat?”
“A college education.”
Mr. Gandiss nodded approvingly, and then, recalling the serious charge against the girl, became formal again. “You wonder why I sent for you?”
“I know my work hasn’t been very good. I’ve tried, but I keep ruining materials.”