The young man quivered slightly, but sat motionless.
'Henry!' came the husky voice again.
There could be no pretending not to hear. Henry went over there. Mr Boice sat still—he could; do that—great hands resting on his barrel-like thighs.
'I am rearranging the work of the paper—' he began.
'Yes,' muttered Henry, not without sullenness; 'I know.'
'Oh, you know!'
'Yes.'
'There's a little more for you to do. You'll have to get it cleaned up well ahead of time this week. Thursday is the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of Sunbury. You'll have to cover that. Take down what you can of the speeches.'
That seemed to be all. Henry moved slowly back to the table. After a little shuffling about of the papers on his desk, Mr Boice moved heavily out and headed toward the post-office.
Then, and not before, Henry rummaged under a pile of exchanges at the rear of the table until he found a book. This he held close to his body, where it would not be seen should Humphrey turn unexpectedly.