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There he found Newmark in evening dress, seated in a low easy chair beneath a lamp, smoking, and reading a magazine. At Orde's appearance in the doorway, he looked up calmly, his paper knife poised, keeping the place. "Oh, it's you, Orde," said he. "Your man told me you were not in," said Orde. "He was mistaken. Won't you sit down?"
Orde passed through the grill into the inner room. "Hullo, Lambert," he addressed the individual seated at Heinzman's desk. "So you're the boss, eh?" Lambert turned, showing a perfectly round face, ornamented by a dot of a nose, two dots of eyes set rather close together, and a pursed up mouth.
"I was beginning to be afraid you'd say 'yes-indeed," said she. Orde looked bewildered, then remembered the Incubus, and laughed. "I haven't been very conversational," he acknowledged. "Certainly NOT!" she said severely. "That would have been very disappointing. There has been nothing to say." She turned and waved her hat at the beech woods falling sombre against the lowering sun.
The two men met at the Auditorium Annex, where they promptly adjourned to the Palm Room and a little table. "Now, Jack," the lumberman replied to his friend's expostulation, "I know just as well as you do that the kid isn't capable yet of handling a proposition on his own hook. It's just for that reason that I put him in charge." "And Welton isn't an Irish name, either," murmured Jack Orde.
Nobody would go on my bond for that amount." "Mine either," said Newmark. "We'll just have to let them go and drive ahead without them. I only hope they won't spread the idea. Better get those other contracts signed up as soon as we can." With this object in view, Orde started out early the next morning, carrying with him the duplicate contracts on which Newmark had been busy.
Such things as the strength of the adverse sea winds, his experience of the capriciousness of the official mind a capriciousness which might be reflected in the public imagination were he not to be wholly successful in getting hold of the French fleet, and the indignity of having a man like Sir John Orde put over him, all filled his sensitive nature with resentment against the ordinances of God and man.
"Well, we'll just try not to hang her," replied Orde. Orde's bank account, in spite of his laughing assertion to Newmark, contained some eleven hundred dollars. After a brief but comprehensive tour of inspection over all the works then forward, he drew a hundred of this and announced to Newmark that business would take him away for about two weeks.
"Bad business! bad business!" muttered the old man. "It's very hard on me. Perhaps you did the right thing you must be good to her but I cannot countenance this affair. It was most high-handed, sir!" The portieres fell again, and he disappeared. Finally, after another interval, Carroll returned. She went immediately to the gas-fixture, which she lit. Orde then saw that she was sobbing violently.
Orde, after the rear was well started, patrolled the length of the drive in his light buckboard. He had a first-class team of young horses high-spirited, somewhat fractious, but capable on a pinch of their hundred miles in a day. He handled them well over the rough corduroys and swamp roads.
Go in to-morrow across the Border to pay service to Orde Sahib's successor, and thou shalt slip thy shoes at the tent-door of a Bengali, as thou shalt hand thy offering to a Bengali's black fist. This I know; and in my youth, when a young man spoke evil to a Mullah holding the doors of Heaven and Hell, the gun-butt was not rammed down the Mullah's gullet. No!
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