“Yes, I saw her when I came in,” the Boss replied, indifferently. The animated scene in which he found himself evidently annoyed him. “Suppose we walk out on the balcony,” said Briggs, desperately. Stone nodded, and they slowly made their way through the crowd, Stone without speaking and looking straight ahead, and Briggs exchanging a few smiling words with those of his guests whom he could remember by name. At his wife’s parties he frequently sustained long conversations with people whom he could not remember to have seen before, but whom he impressed by his interest and friendliness. It was this faculty of being agreeable that made enthusiastic young girls say of him: “When he is talking with you, you feel that you’re the only person in the world he cares anything about.” His natural keenness and his long experience with men of Stone’s type made it plain to Briggs that the Boss had in mind something that he wished to discuss. He decided to give Stone an opening. “I see by the papers to-night that you’re leaving town to-morrow.” “Yes; I shall take the noon train,” Stone replied, dropping into a seat where he could look down the wide avenue. The air was warm and heavy, and the electric light fell in soft showers through the foliage of the trees. Hansom cabs and coupés were passing along the asphalt pavement. Around the canopy leading across the sidewalk to the front door the group of unwearied curiosity-seekers watched the departing guests. Stone observed these details as if they had no interest for him. He had the curious eyes of the man who seems to be always looking within. “I must be getting over to New York myself pretty soon,” Briggs remarked, tentatively. “You’ll find some people there who’ll be glad to see you.” For the first time in their talk Stone showed interest. “The boys would like to talk over a few matters with you. They don’t like the way things are going lately.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Briggs, quietly. “They think you’re going back on ’em.” For a moment they listened to the clatter of the horses’ hoofs in the street. Then Briggs asked: “What has given them that impression?” “Well, they say you’re getting too high and mighty for ’em. You ain’t looking out for their interests. They say you’ve been making altogether too many concessions to the kid-glove fellows.” Now that Stone had escaped from the drawing-room he was limbering up, getting back his usual confidence and his air of authority. “I don’t believe I quite know just what they mean by that,” Briggs said, with a laugh.