Coincident with the side-tracking O'Brien, the vice-president's
stenographer, dropped from the step of the car and went in search of a
telephone. When O'Brien was safely out of the way, a small man,
clean-shaven and alert in his movements, whipped out of the shadows of
the nearest string of box-cars, pushed brusquely past the guarding
porter, and presented himself at the desk in the roomy office
compartment of the private car.
The vice-president looked up and nodded. "How are you, Gibbert?" he
said, and then: "You may condense your report. I have seen the
newspapers. In passing I may say that it isn't much to your credit that
you had to fall back upon the methods of the yeggmen."
"There wasn't any other way," protested the small man. "The papers were
locked up in the cash-box of the safe, and young Blount carried the only
key."
"It was crude; not at all worthy of a man of your ability, Gibbert. And
if the newspapers tell it straight, you came near being caught. How did
that happen?"
"Blount went to a ball, and I shadowed him. His girl was there, and it
looked like a safe bet that he'd stay to see the lights put out. But he
didn't."
"Well, never mind; you got the papers, I suppose?"
The company detective drew a thick envelope from his pocket and laid it
upon the desk. The vice-president tore it open and read rapidly through
the file of letters it had enclosed, tearing them one by one from the
hold of the brass fastener at the upper left-hand corner as he glanced
them over.
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