Part 27 (1/2)

Mr. Carter was at his desk dictating a letter; he finished the last sentence and motioned his stenographer to withdraw. He then asked Paul to sit down in the chair the girl had vacated.

”Well, you've got some news for me,” he began without preamble.

”Yes, sir,” Paul replied. ”We had a cla.s.s meeting to-day. I couldn't put your deal through, Mr. Carter. I'm bringing back the money.”

He laid the bill on the publisher's desk.

Mr. Carter paid no heed to the money. Instead he kept his eyes on the boy before him, studying him through the smoke that clouded the room.

”You couldn't pull it off, eh?” he said sharply. ”I'm sorry to hear that. What was the trouble?”

”I didn't try to pull it off.”

”Didn't try!”

”No, sir.”

”You mean you didn't advise your staff to sell out?”

”I spoke against it.”

”Against it!” snarled Carter, leaning forward in his chair.

The room was breathlessly still.

”You see,” explained the boy, ”the more I thought about it the less I approved of what you wanted me to do. I tried to think it was straight but I didn't really think so. When the fellows asked my honest opinion, I simply had to tell them the truth.”

Mr. Carter made no comment, nor did his eyes leave Paul's face, but he drew his s.h.a.ggy brows together and scowled.

”So,” went on Paul desperately, ”I've brought your money back to you.

It's the same bill you gave me. I didn't spend it. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to.”

There was an awkward pause. Paul got to his feet.

”I'm--I'm--sorry to have disappointed you, Mr. Carter,” he murmured in a low tone as he moved across the room to go. ”You have been mighty kind to us boys.”

The door was open and he was crossing the threshold before the man at the desk spoke; then he called:

”Hold on a minute, son.”

Paul turned.

”Shut that door.”

Wondering, the boy obeyed.

Mr. Carter took up the greenback lying before him.

”So you've been carrying that money round with you ever since I gave it to you, have you?”