The man laughed. "That would never do. Penn Service could never allow that. Any one who fails at a competition, whether he is a candidate or an actual incumbent of office, goes into the pit!"
"Gee!" muttered Bertram succinctly. Then aloud, "Say, Mister, I shouldn't think these here Super-what-you-may-call-'em jobs would ever get to be real popular!"
"We are not exactly crowded with applicants," acknowledged the Superlative. "But do not allow yourselves to be troubled on that score. I have excellent reasons for prophesying your success. And now I had best leave you, before her worn-out Loveliness catches me here. She might just possibly upset the apple cart yet! May I rely on you?"
He looked from one to the other with a shifty, yet piercing gaze.
"I think you may." Again Viola smiled upon him in a way that made Drayton writhe inwardly. What hidden side of this beautiful, innocent, girl-child's nature was now being brought to the surface? Did she realize the implications of this thing to which she was so sweetly agreeing? Her brother stood glum and silent, eyes fixed on the floor. Cleverest, however, his ax having been produced and successfully ground, extended a thin, cold hand to Viola.
"It is refreshing," he declared, "to find brains and the faculty of decision in conjunction with such beauty!"
Viola accepted the hand and the crude compliment with equal cordiality. "May we hope to see you soon again?"
"As early as circumstances allow. Don't let Lovely suspect what's in the wind. Just let her imagine that everything is drifting her way. I'll look after you. Be sure of that!"
And the Superlative departed, leaving behind him a brewing storm which broke almost as quickly as the door closed on his retreating back.
"Viola," growled her brother, and it said much for his anger that there was no endearment in his tone, "is it crazy you have gone? Or is it your intention to offer me that for a brother-in-law? Can you not see-"