"You forget," said the girl, "you only know who has the money." "I will get it," he answered confidently. "Something tells me I will. Until I do, I am content to say no more." "Good-by," said the girl. She stood in the window of her room, while a harsh voice called "That you, dearie?" from inside. "And I may add," she smiled, "that in my profession--a following is considered quite--desirable." She disappeared, and Mr. Magee, after a few minutes in his room, descended again to the office. In the center of the room, Elijah Quimby and Hayden stood face to face. "What is it, Quimby?" asked Magee. "I just ran up to see how things were going," Quimby replied, "and I find him here." "Our latest guest," smiled Magee. "I was just reminding Mr. Hayden," Quimby said, his teeth set, an angry light in his eyes, "that the last time we met he ordered me from his office. I told you, Mr. Magee, that the Suburban Railway once promised to make use of my invention. Then Mr. Kendrick went away--and this man took charge. When I came around to the offices again--he laughed at me. When I came the second time, he called me a loafer and ordered me out." He paused, and faced Hayden again. "I've grown bitter, here on the mountain," he said, "as I've thought over what you and men like you said to me--as I've thought of what might have been--and what was--yes, I've grown pretty bitter. Time after time I've gone over in my mind that scene in your office. As I've sat here thinking you've come to mean to me all the crowd that made a fool of me. You've come to mean to me all the crowd that said 'The public be damned' in my ear. I haven't ever forgot--how you ordered me out of your office." "Well?" asked Hayden. "And now," Quimby went on, "I find you trespassing in a hotel left in my care--the tables are turned. I ought to show you the door. I ought to put you out." "Try it," sneered Hayden. "No," answered Quimby, "I ain't going to do it. Maybe it's because I've grown timid, brooding over my failure. And maybe it's because I know who's got the seventh key." Hayden made no reply. No one stirred for a minute, and then Quimby moved away, and went out through the dining-room door. CHAPTER XV TABLE TALK The seventh key! Mr. Magee thrilled at the mention of it. So Elijah Quimby knew the identity and the mission of the man who hid in the annex. Did any one else? Magee looked at the broad acreage of the mayor's face, at the ancient lemon of Max's, at Bland's, frightened and thoughtful, at Hayden's, concerned but smiling. Did any one else know? Ah, yes, of course. Down the stairs the professor of Comparative Literature felt his way to food. "Is dinner ready?" he asked, peering about.