“Good! I’ll also ask you to watch the garden for any suspicious excavating.”
“Very well. But is that all?” Miss Graham’s voice was wistful.
“Isn’t it enough?”
“You’ve been so good to me,” she said hesitantly. “I don’t like to think of you as setting those boys to an impossible task.”
“Oh, bless you!” returned the Ad-Visor heartily; “that’s all arranged for. One of my men will duly parade with a canine especially obtained for the occasion. I’m not going to swindle the youngsters.”
“It didn’t seem like you,” returned Miss Graham warmly. “But you must let me pay for it, that and the advertising bill.”
“As an unauthorized expense—” he began.
She laid a small, persuasive hand on his arm.
“You must let me pay it. Won’t you?”
Average Jones was conscious of a strange sensation, starting from the point where the firm, little hand lay. It spread in his veins and thickened his speech.