And still smiling the chief purchasing agent hurried to the freight elevator and made his timely and prudent exit.
"Gawsh," said the blond stenographer, "Grizzly Cowdin's ducked again this year."
"Gee," said the brunette stenographer, "here's where poor Mr. Addicks gets it where Nellie wore the beads."
Croly knew what they were saying; he knew that he had been left to be a scapegoat. He looked around for his own hat. But as he did so he caught the reflection of his new face in the plate-glass top of his desk. The image of his big impressive jaw heartened him. He smiled grimly and waited.
He did not have long to wait. The door was thrust open and President Flagstead's head was thrust in.
"Where's Cowdin?" he demanded nervously. Tiny worried pearls of dew on the presidential brow bore evidence that even he had not escaped the grill.
"Home," said Croly. "Sick."
Mr. Flagstead frowned. The furrows of worry in his face deepened.
"Mr. Langdon is furious at the purchasing department," he said. "He wants some things in the report explained, and he won't wait. Confound Cowdin!"
Croly's eyes rested for a moment on the reflection of his chin in the glass on his desk; then he raised them to the president's.