“You could meet me anywhere!” the youth interrupted her warmly. “You can date me out for any time or place! We can——”
The door opened abruptly and Luke Manders, only a trifle late on his cue, strode in. “Oh, there you are, sir!” he said thankfully. “I’m right sorry that fool woman was so slow in asking you in! I was afraid you’d left, and I’ve been hunting everywhere— Mr. ’Gene Carey has been sick—I reckon you know that—and he still doesn’t get down here. But I’m his superintendent, Luke Manders, and anything I can do for you, Mr. Parker——”
Glen, who had been staring in astonishment at Luke’s cordiality to the unknown investigator, so utterly at variance with his rule of “No Visitors Allowed,” caught her breath at sound of the name. “What? What did you say, Luke?”
“Oh, Glen!” He turned to her and handed over the card which he was still carrying. “This is Mr. Peter Parker, and that fool, M’liss’ kept him waiting outside till— This is Glen Darrow, Mr. Parker, who——”
“I already know Miss Darrow,” said the young owner genially, “but I should enjoy shaking hands again, now that we are formally introduced.” He advanced toward her and held out his hand engagingly.
The girl put both her hands behind her. “And I know you, Peter Parker,” she said whitely. “I know you—now!”—and with a long look of concentrated scorn and contempt at the fair face and the white clad figure of the amazed young man she turned and flung herself out of the room.
“Well, now, Mr. Parker, it’s right sultry to-day,” said Luke Manders hastily, seeking to cover up his assistant’s rude exit, “and about dinner time, and I reckon you’d rather go on back to the hotel now and come here later in the afternoon when it’s cooler, wouldn’t you, sir?” He started toward the door, to lead the way. “I’ll fix it so I’m free, then, to go over things with you.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, old top,” Peter Parker stopped looking at the door through which Glen Darrow had vanished and regarded his superintendent genially, “but I don’t want to bother you.”
“No bother at all, sir,” he assured him, still moving toward the door as the whistle blew shrilly for the noon hour, “and anyhow, we’re quitting for dinner now——”
“But I didn’t breakfast until ten, you see,” the youth explained, “so I can, without actual suffering, wait until one or one-thirty for my luncheon, and I shall enjoy just browsing about by myself.”