Blake looked puzzled. "What about them, sir? If it's in regard to their psychology, I can assure you--" "I don't mean their psychology at _all_," said the President. "No, wait--yes, I do, in a minor way. They must pursue this thing, no matter what, but--" A light glimmered, then burned brightly in the President's eyes, and he stood up and smacked his fist into his open palm. "Of course!" he said. "Their methods!" "Methods?" asked Blake, a little nervously. The President's reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. The three men exchanged a look; then the Secretary jabbed the button, and Jenkins came in. "This just came for you, sir," he said, handing the Secretary a small envelope, and making his exit silently. The President waited impatiently as the envelope was torn open and its contents read. Then the Secretary's hands opened limply and the message fell upon the table. "Diplomatic note--Russian--Teddy," he whispered. "What!" yelped the President. He snatched the paper from the table and read it, then sank into his chair once more, his face grim and eyes suspiciously moist. "The dirty, lowdown, rotten...." Blake, hovering at tableside, hesitated a moment, then asked, "What about Teddy? What's happened?" "What we might have expected," said the Secretary dolefully. "You don't mean--" Blake mumbled, horrified. He couldn't continue, just waited for the worst. The President nodded miserably. "He's confessed." End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Business, As Usual, by Jack Sharkey