"I mean, I've never noticed anyone who looked less than twenty-nine. By the way, do you ever see Mr. Rigby? I believe she is in his office." "I don't go to Rigby's any more," said Eddie, with sudden stiffness. "He's a cheap skate." "I HEARD he threw you out of the office one day," with a dry cackle. "He did not! We couldn't agree in certain things regarding the Bansemer affair, that's all. I told him to go to the devil, or words to that effect." "Something loose about your testimony, I believe, wasn't there?" "Oh, the whole thing doesn't amount to a whoop. I'm trying to get Rosie another job. She oughtn't to write in there with that guy." "Well, you're twenty-one. Why don't you open an office of your own? Your mother's got plenty of money. She can buy you a library and a sign, and that is all a young lawyer needs in Chicago." "Mother wants me to run for alderman in our ward, next spring. I'll be able to vote at that election." "You've got as much right in the council as some others, I suppose." "Sure, mother owns property. The West Side ought to be as well represented as the North Side. Property interests is what we need in the council. That's--" "I don't care to hear a political speech, boy. Are you busy this afternoon?" "No. I wouldn't be here if I was." "Then get up there and hand those books down to me. Nobody loafs in this office to-day." "Well, doggone, if that isn't the limit! All right. Don't get mad. I'll do it." The young gentleman leisurely ascended to the top of the stepladder and fell into line under the lash. "Young Mr. Graydon Bansemer will be here this afternoon," said Droom. "I want to get things cleaned up a bit beforehand." "How does he feel about his father?" "He doesn't know about him, I'm afraid." "Gee! Well, it'll jar him a bit, won't it?" The office door was opened suddenly and a tall young man strode into the room, only to stop aghast at the sight before him. Droom's lank figure swayed uncertainly and his eyes wavered. "What's all this?" cried Graydon, dropping his bag and coming toward the old man, his hand outstretched. Droom's clammy fingers rested lifelessly in the warm clasp. "How are you, Graydon? I'm--I'm very glad to see you. You are looking well. Oh, this? We--we are moving," said the old man. The helpers looked on with interest. "Come into the back office. It isn't so torn up. I didn't expect you so soon. They said it was twenty-four hours late. Well, well, how are you, my boy?" "I'm quite well again, Elias. Hard siege of it, I tell you. Moving, eh? What's that for?" "Never mind those books, Eddie. Thank you for helping me. Come in some other time. You fellows--I mean you--pack the rest of these and then I'll tell you what to do next. Come in, Graydon." Eddie Deever took his departure, deeply insulted because he had not been introduced to the newcomer. Graydon, somewhat bewildered, followed Droom into his father's consultation room. He looked around inquiringly.