It was so pleasant to be free from controversial conversation, or from conversation which glossed over controversy that Gage found himself feeling much warmer and more cheerful than he had for days. Together they walked over to the office of the man who had the district chairmanship. Mr. Drummond was embarrassed. Clearly he was embarrassed by the necessity of refusing a favor Flandon asked. But he was put to it. They left the office and at the street corner Freda stopped and held out her hand. “Pretty lucky for them that young Whitelaw got there first, I fancy.” “Have you something else in mind?” “I’ll try to find something. Maybe I can get a place as somebody’s companion. Or maybe Miss Duffield will know--” A tight little line came around Gage’s mouth. He didn’t want Margaret Duffield running this girl. His dislike was becoming an obsession. “I wonder,” he said slowly, “if you’d like to come into my office. I could use another clerk, as a matter of fact. I’m away a great deal and I find that since my assistant has been handling more law work he is too busy to do things around the office--handling clients, sorting correspondence and such things. The ordinary stenographer just messes up everything except a sheet of carbon paper, and the last good one I had got married, of course. There wouldn’t be much in it--maybe sixty a month, say--but if you’d like to try--” Freda looked at him straightly. “If you’re just trying to find a job for me, I’d rather not, Mr. Flandon.” He liked that, and gave her back honesty. “Of course I would like to see you fixed. I thought this other thing would work out better. But in all seriousness I could use another clerk in my office and I’ve been wondering whom I could get. What do you say to trying it for a month--” “Let me try it for two weeks and then if I fail, fire me then. Only you’ll surely fire me if I don’t earn my money?” “Surely.” III Gage went home that night more cheerful than he had been for some time. He had a mischievous sensation of having rescued a brand from Margaret Duffield. At dinner Helen asked him if he had attended to Freda’s case. “Drummond had other arrangements already.” “What a shame,” she said, “I wonder where we can place that girl. She is too good to go back and do nothing in Mohawk. And she really wants to earn money badly.” “I placed her,” said Gage, hugging his mischief to himself. “You did? Where?” “I took her into my office.” Helen looked at him in surprise. “You know that she can’t typewrite?” “I know. But I can use her. She has a good head and--a nice influence. I think I’ll like to have her around. Since she has to work she’d be better there than grubbing in politics.” “As if your office wasn’t full of politics!” “Well they’re not Duffield-politics.” “Whatever you mean by that is obscure,” said Helen, “but don’t eat the child’s head off, will you?” CHAPTER X THE CLEAN WIND