"Are you in full charge here?" inquired Villard, peering wistfully in the eyes of the man before him.
"Yes," replied the agent, shortly.
"Tell me then, in what condition was he when he arrived—and when he went away."
"Very angry on his arrival—very much upset on going away. I thought he might have taken something for his nerves."
"Did he speak to you on leaving?"
"Yes, I came in as he was leaving. He gave his check for rent to the exchange girl—to be handed to me. I got it all right. And that's all I know."
"And your name, please?—'Bender?'—thank you, Mr. Bender. I may wish to speak with you again. My name is Villard, a very close friend of Mr. Parkins, and I have business matters requiring his presence at my office. If he shows up, kindly ring my phone—Private, one hundred. It will be to his advantage, I assure you."
Villard was soon within his own office and nervously pacing the floor. With his hands behind him he twiddled his thumbs and gave way to deep thought.
"Parkins must be saved!" he said to himself, and quickening his stride, he rushed out of his private office into the counting room.
"Ring my chauffeur," said he, seeing and speaking to no one in particular, then returned to his office. Shortly afterward his car was announced and he was soon headed for the Wall Street district.