his shirt-sleeves.
'Oh, Mr. Winfield. I'm in such trouble.'
'Why, Mamie! What's the matter? Come in.'
Mamie followed him into the studio, eluding Mr. Penway, whose arm was
hovering in the neighbourhood of her waist.
'Sit down,' said Kirk. 'What's the trouble? Have you been trying to get
at me before? We've been down to Long Beach.'
'A delightful spot,' observed Mr. Penway, who had followed. 'Sandy, but
replete with squabs. Why didn't you come earlier? We could have taken
you.'
'May I talk privately with you, Mr. Winfield?'
'Sure.'
Kirk looked at Mr. Penway, who nodded agreeably.
'Outside for Robert?' he inquired amiably. 'Very well. There is
no Buttinsky blood in the Penway family. Let me just fix myself a
high-ball and borrow one of your cigars and I'll go and sit in the
car and commune with nature. Take your time.'
'Just a moment, Mamie,' said Kirk, when he had gone. He picked up a
telegram which lay on the table. 'I'll read this and see if it's
important, and then we'll get right down to business. We only got back
a moment before you arrived, so I'm a bit behind with my
correspondence.'
As he read the telegram a look of astonishment came into his face. He
sat down and read the message a second time. Mamie waited patiently.
'Good Lord!' he muttered.
A sudden thought struck Mamie.
'Mr. Winfield, is it from Steve?' she said.
Kirk started, and looked at her incredulously.
'How on earth did you know? Good Heavens! Are you in this, Mamie, too?'
Mamie handed him her note. He read it without a word. When he had
finished he sat back in his chair, thinking.
'I thought Steve might have telegraphed to you,' said Mamie.
Kirk roused himself from his thoughts.
'Was this what you came to see me about?'
'Yes.'
'What does Ruth, what do they think of it, up there?'
'They don't know anything about it. Mrs. Winfield went away early this
morning. Mr. Keggs said she had had a telephone call, Mrs. Porter is in
Boston. She will be back to-day some time. What are we to do?'
'Do!' Kirk jumped up and began to pace the floor. 'I'll tell you what
I'm going to do. Steve has taken the boy up to my shack in Connecticut.
I'm going there as fast as the auto can take me.'
'Steve's mad!'
'Is he? Steve's the best pal I've got. For two years I've been aching
to get at this boy, and Steve has had the sense to show me the way.'
He went on as if talking to himself.
'Steve's a man. I'm just a fool who hangs round without the nerve to
act. If I had had the pluck of a rabbit I'd have done this myself six
months ago. But I've hung round doing nothing while that damned Porter
