“No ‘buts,’” John Hale slapped him on the back. The prospect of action had brought back his spirits. “You’ve got to see me through this, Frank, for the sake of ‘auld lang syne.’ You’ve kept me out of trouble before, remember that”—and he gripped Latimer’s hand and wrung it.
“It looks as if I had contracted for a big job,” groaned Latimer, expanding his fingers which tingled from John Hale’s pressure. “I’ll gladly turn you over to Polly with my blessings. I’ll wait for you in the library, but don’t be long.”
“All right,” and the two friends parted on the second floor.
John Hale did not go at once to his brother’s den. Instead, he watched Latimer disappear down the circular staircase, then very slowly crossed the hall and looked inside Judith’s boudoir. It was empty. With indecision written plainly on his face, he turned about and sought the den. Robert Hale looked up from his desk, where he was writing with feverish speed, as his brother entered.
“Close the door, John,” he directed, and waited in silence until his brother had crossed the room and stood by the fireplace, in which a gas log burned. “Sit down.”
John Hale regarded his brother with no friendly eyes. He had always resented what he termed “Robert’s elder brother act,” and his dictatorial manner generally grated, besides which their natures were too diametrically opposed ever to agree on any subject. John’s height and commanding figure had always been a source of envy to his delicate brother, while the latter’s scientific achievements and financial prosperity had served to widen the breach between them.
“I can stay only a minute,” John announced, lounging against the mantel. “What do you wish to see me about?”
Hale’s thin lips tightened into a straight line. “Sit down first,”—his manner was a bit more courteous—“and I will explain. No, take that chair where you can face me,” and John, against his wishes, dropped into a seat facing not only his brother but the full glare of light from the window.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, as his brother volunteered no remark.
“Can you tell me the present whereabouts of my secretary, Polly Davis?” asked Hale.