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Joining the party when it came down, he found it difficult only in the inner sanctuaries to maintain the status quo ante Gryson. There was no shadow of suspicion or coolness in his father's kindly smile and genial greeting, and Mrs. Honoria rallied him playfully upon the narrow margin by which he had held his own and Patricia's places at the Gordon dinner-table the night before.
Also, he had meant to make a definite appointment with Blenkinsop and the representative of the United Press, to the end that there might be no delay in the firing of the mine. Lastly, Gryson must be shielded and gotten out of the city in safety; so much the traitor had a right to demand if he should risk his liberty and his life by returning with the evidence.
Slipping the precious package into an inner pocket of the enveloping coat, he took a compact roll of bank-bills from a drawer in the desk and gave it to Gryson, saying tersely: "That isn't a bribe, you understand; it's merely to help you make your getaway. Can you manage to ride on Transcontinental trains without being recognized offhand?"
But when he saw his father quietly smoking his bed-time cigar in one of the big leather-covered lounging-chairs, he realized that the first step had been taken in an exceedingly thorny path; that whatever else might be the outcome of the bargain with Thomas Gryson, a son was coldly plotting to bring disgrace and humiliation upon a father.
Again Collins made a journey to his desk, returning with the telegraph-impression book open at the proper page. Blount glanced at the copy of the brief message: "Thomas Gryson wants to know when he can be sure of finding you here," and handed the book back. "How did you send that?" he asked. "I sent it down to the despatcher's office by Barney." Blount nodded.
Kittredge trying to find him, too?" "Yes. And I think Kittredge played it rather low down on the poor beggar. They had a deal of some sort, and when Gryson put his price on the job " "I know," she interrupted. "Mr. Kittredge ought to have paid him and let him go." Gantry's smile was a tribute to superior genius. "You've got me going," he said; "you always have me going.
"Oh, yes; I reckon there isn't much happening that such a double-dyed old villain as I am doesn't find out, Evan," was the sober rejoinder. "But, good heavens! if you know so much, you must know what Gryson came back for, and what he gave me!" "Yes; I know that, too. I reckon I might as well make a clean breast of it while I'm at it."
"Gryson," said the little lady, her eyes narrowing; "Gryson the name is curiously familiar. He is what you call a ward-worker, isn't he?" Gantry nodded. "Something of the sort, yes. Evan calls him one of the 'pie-eaters, and away along early in the game they had a set-to in Evan's office and Evan fired him; told him if he ever came back he'd throw him out." Again Mrs.
I'll tell you frankly that I tried to shove it over to you, neck and heels, at first. When that little notion failed, I pushed it along to Kittredge." Blount's eyebrows, which promised in time to be as portentous as the Honorable Senator's, met in a frown. "I'm going to find Gryson, dead or alive," he said. Gantry looked up quickly. "Which means that you know what has become of him?"
"Neither can I!" Blount exploded. "Let it be understood, once for all, Mr. Bentley, that I am not the scape-goat for all the other departments! I have cut it off short; I am not recommending passes for anybody." "But, suffering Scott, Mr. Blount, we've simply got to take care of Tom Gryson! He's the boss of his ward, and he has influence enough to turn even our own employees against us!"
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