Wyatt laid his affectation aside. "That depends on the interest, the security, and length of the term. It certainly appears, from your very flattering description, that you were searching for me, Mr. Thompson." His eyes were dancing. "Interest from the word Go. The security's all right, too, if you take a gun," said Steve reassuringly. "You _might_ get a long term, but it can be avoided with luck and good management. I think the parties concerned will hardly make a complaint." "You are not contemplating anything illegal, I trust?" Atwood was enjoying himself to the full. "I don't know. Really hadn't given it much attention," returned the Committee, simply. "But now you mention it, I think probably I am." "Will you allow my accomplice and myself to use your private room for executive session?" asked Wyatt. * * * * * "But why don't you have them arrested?" "Arrested? O no!" cried Steve, in pained surprise. "That wouldn't be fair. That isn't done! Besides, don't you see, that wouldn't hurt their feelings like this?" "I see," said Wyatt. "I'm your man. And I say, old chap, before I go back to my Cholly-talk again, advise me. Would I look any more idiotic, do you think, if I should suck my cane? I don't want to disappoint any one." "I would not," said Steve. "You're too good to be true, without that." "Wouldn't you naturally suppose," sighed Wyatt, "that people would know that no man could be as big a fool as I am, unless he did it on purpose? But they don't. They swallow it, hook, bob and sinker!" Chapter VI "_If the bowl had been stronger My tale had been longer_." Steve entered Mitchell's office with the painful uprightness and precise carriage of one who has lunched not wisely but rather too well. His speech, too, was of ponderous brevity. The man of affairs chided him with fatherly kindness. "This won't do, my boy--this won't do. I like you, Thompson. I'm sorry--I'm pained to see this. Don't go in for this sort of thing, or your good fortune will prove a curse in disguise." Steve hung his head, muttering something incoherent about not being used to wine and that he'd soon get over it. "Oh, young men _will_ be young men, I suppose," sighed Mitchell tolerantly. "Tell you what. Archibald's going for a spin over to East New York. I'll just 'phone him to drop by on his way and take us along. Fresh air'll do you good." Steve assented, and fell to poring over the immense wall map of New York with preternatural gravity. But Mitchell's benevolent plan was doomed to be frustrated. Hardly had Archibald arrived and the employees been dismissed, when the sordid, busy, money-making city intruded in the person of Loring. There were merry greetings all around. The artist was much pleased to renew his acquaintance with Thompson, to whom he had taken a fancy. Loring, it seemed, was an old friend of Archibald's and was promptly invited to make one of the party.