A reddish head drew away from the panel, a pair of ears ceased their strained attention, a light step retreated through the passage, and two narrow gray eyes like those of a cat indicated that their owner had now satisfied his inquisitive yearning, and learned the name of the visitor who so peremptorily had issued his commands.
As Nick accepted a chair near that taken by Weston at his desk, he carelessly jerked his thumb toward the door by which he had entered.
“Where’d you get him, Weston?” he asked dryly.
“Get whom?” queried the chief, with inquiring eyes.
“The clerk.”
“Hyde—the one who announced you?”
“The same.”
“Oh, he’s been at work on the books out there for about a year. He’s only an assistant clerk.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Why did you ask?”