This gave Mr. Gandiss the opening he sought. “What do you do with the discarded pieces?” he inquired.
“Why, I just throw them aside.” The question plainly puzzled Sally.
“You may have heard that we are having a little trouble here at the factory.”
“What sort of trouble, Mr. Gandiss?”
“Small but valuable pieces of copper and brass seem to disappear with alarming regularity. Most of the thefts have been attributed to workers on the night shift.”
Sally’s blue eyes opened wide, but she returned Mr. Gandiss’ steady gaze. Her chin raised. “I’ve heard talk about it among the girls,” she replied briefly. “That’s all I know.”
“You have no idea who may be taking the materials?”
“Not the slightest, sir.”
An awkward silence fell. Mr. Gandiss started to speak again, then changed his mind.
“Was there anything else?” Sally asked stiffly.