"What did the governor want?" "Nothing much. He told me you were here and suggested that I meet you. He thought it would be pleasant for us both to have company home." It dawned on Harry that perhaps his father had not been quite disinterested in this. "You're a good politician, Mike," he said shortly. "Is that a compliment now, or a slander against my character?" Grogan demanded, smiling. "Neither," replied Harry. "It's a fact." "And why, might I ask, have you recalled it at this particular moment?" "Because your conversation in this particular instance seemed to me to be that of a person who was concealing something. Politician's talk, Grogan, is specious, but notable for its reticence." "Well, Harry," returned Grogan, "your own line of talk is not particularly illuminating, either." "What do you mean, Mike?" "Well, here I am, an old friend of your father's, mixed up with him in half a dozen deals. I've known you ever since you sat in a high chair and spooned gruel from a bowl. I come on you in this out of the way corner and you say never a word of why you're here, or what you're doing. I think Clam is your middle name." "Why," replied Harry, "I came down to Millville to collect some rents." "Only rents?" queried Grogan pointedly. "What the devil do you mean?" "Youngsters of your age sometimes amuse themselves collecting--shirtwaists." "Stop that, Grogan," retorted Harry angrily. "Stop what, me boy?" "I don't like that sort of insinuation." "Ho," said Grogan, "angry, eh? Then it's as I thought. There's always fire in the heart when a young man flares up about a girl." "Look here, Grogan--" "Easy, boy," interrupted the older man. "I'm your friend and I don't want to see you get into trouble--with your father, I mean." "Did he send you to spy on me?" demanded Harry hotly. "Not at all," returned Grogan suavely, "only he's worried." "Worried, what the devil about?" Grogan did not reply. "I know I've overstayed my time," Harry went on, "but some of these people have been difficult. I couldn't throw them into the street when they promised to pay and--" "I know, I know," put in Grogan. "It's not about you. Your father's worried about business. One of these crazy reform waves has started in Chicago. A vice investigating committee is raising ructions." "What do you mean by a reform wave? What can a vice investigating committee have to do with my father?" "Well, you see," Grogan was picking his words carefully, "your father has large interests. An investigation of that sort unsettles business." "What started the reform wave?" "A girl." "A what?" "I said a girl," replied Grogan evenly. Harry laughed. "Yes," said Grogan, "they all laughed at her at first, just as you are doing now. But the joke is beginning to lose its point." "Who is she?" "Her name," returned Grogan, "is Mary Randall." "Mary Randall," repeated Harry. The words meant nothing to him. "Who is she?"