“To see me! Why?”
“I wanted to ask you, sir, who it was answered the telephone when you called up the Attorney General’s private office on Thursday morning at two fifteen o’clock?”
The President leaned thoughtfully back in his chair and regarded Dick intently. Apparently what he saw in his appearance pleased him, for after a prolonged scrutiny, which Dick bore with what equanimity he could, he reached over and touched his desk bell.
“Is Secretary Bowers still in the White House?” he asked the attendant who answered his summons.
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“My compliments, and ask him to step here.”
Dick waited in silence, a good deal perturbed in spirit. What was to pay? The President had but time to gather up some loose papers and put them in his desk when the door opened and admitted his Secretary of State, James Bowers, a man known throughout the length and breadth of the land as representing all that was best in America and Americans.
“Your attendant caught me just as I was leaving, Mr. President,” he said. “I am entirely at your service,” and he bowed gravely to Dick, who had risen on his entrance.
“I won’t detain you long. You know Mr. Tillinghast?”
“Yes,” smiled the Secretary. “He has interviewed me on many occasions.”