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Would he have ended by killing her? ... Physically weak as he was, he could still feel the thrill of cruelty that had shaken him at the realization of Brauer's dismay. As a child, when a truant gust of deviltry had swept him, he had felt the same satisfaction in pummeling a comrade who backed away from friendly cuffs turned instantly to blows of malice.

Business began to pour in from Brauer and, frankly, Fred was disturbed. He wasn't sure of Brauer's business scruples. "I wonder if he's promising these people rebates," he said to Helen one day, following an avalanche of new risks. "Well, you'll know soon enough when he begins to collect the premiums," she replied, indifferently.

"Thorny, honest, I oughtn't to spend the money," Susan persisted. "S'listen, Susan." Miss Thornton spoke very low, after a cautious glance about her. "Swear you won't breathe this!" "Oh, honestly I won't!" "Wait a minute. Is Elsie Kirk there?" asked Miss Thornton. Susan glanced down the office. "Nope. She's upstairs, and Violet's in Brauer's office. What is it?" "Well, say, listen.

Now I know that no one ever loses anything... You don't understand me, do you? ... Oh, well, it doesn't matter." Brauer's frightened lips scarcely moved as he asked: "Where are you staying?" "Anywhere I can find a shelter... Last night I spent with an anarchist... I think he'd blow up almost anyone for just the sheer joy of it." Brauer shuddered. "Where will you spend to-night?"

Fred did not wait for Brauer to come into the office he went and took him to lunch instead, where he could prod him away from Helen's sight and hearing. "I'm surprised at you, Brauer," Starratt broke out suddenly, once they were seated at Grover's and had given the girl their order. "Over what?" Brauer's face clouded craftily.

Two thirds of one hundred and fifty, less sixty-odd dollars overdrawn... He was recalled from his occupation by Brauer's voice rising above the clatter of carelessly flung crockery and tableware. "Is it true you're leaving the first of the month?" He liked Brauer better for this direct question, although the man's presumption still rankled.

Brauer's gaze swept from Starratt to Helen and back again. "How did you land it, then?" Helen stood up, thrusting a pencil into her hair. "I landed it, Mr. Brauer," she said, sweetly, tossing her husband a commiserating smile. Brauer's thin lips parted unpleasantly. "I told you at the start, Starratt, that a good stenographer would work wonders." Fred forced a sickly laugh.

The whole scene had fallen flat. His suave heroics had not even made Wetherbee feel cheap. He went back to his desk. Presently a hand rested upon his shoulder. He knew Brauer's fawning, almost apologetic, touch. He turned. "If you're short " Brauer was whispering. Starratt hesitated. Deep down he never had liked Brauer; in fact, he always had just missed snubbing him.

Her heart beat high, she attacked a particularly difficult bill, one she had been avoiding for days, and disposed of it in ten minutes. A little later she glanced at Mr. Brauer's office. Peter was gone, and Susan felt a sensation of sickness. She looked down at Mr. Baxter's office, and saw him there, spreading kodak pictures over the old man's desk, laughing and talking.

Susan had to face the office, to hide her heart from Thorny and the other girls, to be reminded by the empty desk in Mr. Brauer's office, and by every glimpse she had of old Mr. Baxter, of the happy dreams she had once dreamed here in this same place. But it was harder far at home. Mrs.