Ethel Clayton had turned suddenly from the window. “Have you time to sign these checks and letters before the outgoing mail, Mr. Barton?” she asked. He took the papers, but did not verbally reply for a moment. His countenance had become calm again, if still pale, when he had seated himself in his chair and turned in it so that the others could both observe him. “I will sign them at once, Miss Clayton,” Barton said quite composedly. “But first----” For a moment his gaze centered upon her. There was something wholly good to look at in the girl’s face and figure. Had she not dressed so practically for her work her personal attractions would have been further enhanced. Mayberry was watching her, too; and his gaze betrayed a certain eagerness, whereas the manager’s eyes merely revealed expectancy. Then he flicked a glance in Mayberry’s direction. “Perhaps Miss Clayton might give us a word of advice upon this matter, Jim?” he said questioningly, and with a quizzical little smile. The superintendent, a little startled, shifted his gaze from the girl’s face to the manager’s countenance. Ethel, perfectly composed, waited for the explanation of Barton’s observation. “Woman’s intuition forever!” the latter ejaculated. “What do you mean, Frank?” hastily demanded Jim Mayberry. “If you and I don’t know what to do----” Ethel flushed faintly, but looked questioningly at the manager. The implied doubt of her ability in Mayberry’s tone possibly piqued her. Frank Barton said in his good-natured, easy manner: “Oh, we know _what_ to do. But it’s the way the thing is done. You know about this new Bogata order, Miss Clayton?” “Of course, Mr. Barton.” “I do not see how we can accept it. The Bogata Company is not in good financial standing. But we must not offend them. The refusal must be one to which they cannot take exception. It is a big order, and they have sent it in without question, just as though they expected us to get to work on it with merely an acknowledgment of the favor.” “I see,” the girl said in her composed way. “You are so perfectly capable, Miss Clayton,” laughed the general manager. “See what you can do with the matter. Do you think we can keep within the lines of safety, and yet make no enemy of the Bogata people?” “I believe it can be done, Mr. Barton,” replied the girl. There was a decision in her manner of speaking that revealed Ethel Clayton as being quite what the general manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company had said she was--“capable.” “See what you can do with a letter, then,” Barton went on, producing the order sheets in question and handing them to her along with the letters and checks he had signed. She left the private office without further word. Jim Mayberry was frowning. “You’re trusting a good deal to that girl, Frank,” he growled. “I’ve never trusted anything to her yet that she hasn’t handled all right,” the manager replied easily. “If I manage to--to get away, Jim, you’ll find her a great help here.”