Barton laughed shortly. Evidently he was not displeased. “I can see you have a very good reason for not quarreling with Mayberry. Quite right. Things would by no means go so smoothly if you two could not work together. You retarded the order so that you could see me to-day?” “Yes.” “And what do you expect me to do?” “If that Bogata order is not to be filled, you can telegraph the stock people to hold our order for correction.” “Right! You certainly have a grasp of the situation, as you always have, Miss Clayton,” he said promptly. “I will dictate that telegram. You can send it from the railroad station as you go back, if you will.” “Yes, Mr. Barton,” she responded, whipping out her book and pencil. He smiled covertly. She was all business now. “Your suspicions are quite correct,” Barton observed. “Somebody tampered with that letter and order. I did not see the letter or the carbon copy of it after signing the former. The Bogata people must have a friend in our offices. Have you any idea----” “No!” she exclaimed almost harshly. If Barton could not see Jim Mayberry’s hand in the affair surely it was not her place to tell him. He seemed to ignore utterly the possibility of the superintendent’s being the person guilty. “The Bogata people cannot hold us to any such terms,” Barton went on to say. “We did not accept the order. Business--especially as important a matter as this--is not so easily done. Their letter was a good deal of a bluff as it stood. I should have felt justified in throwing it and the schedule of their order into my wastebasket. Jim Mayberry is green yet. I’ll have you take word to him----” “Oh, Mr. Barton! if you do that you will make my position terribly difficult,” she cried. “True,” he admitted. “I suppose that is so. I will communicate with Hammerly. He knows all about the affairs of the Bogata people. We will let him break the news to Jim,” and he laughed a little. “You see, Miss Clayton, we must expect such mistakes as this to creep in when a fellow is like Jim. He has all the knowledge of the business that is necessary, I am sure. But he is likely to make mistakes--at first.” She looked at the manager in wonder. Was it possible that his old-time interest in Jim Mayberry, and the fact that they had been friends for so long, utterly blinded Barton to the superintendent’s faults? “You have a quicker mind than Jim,” went on Barton, easily, “and you haven’t his stubbornness. I really would not dare accept my lieutenancy and ask for active duty if Jim had not you at his elbow. I know you will not let him make any serious error.” “But, Mr. Barton!” she cried, under her breath, “you do not expect really to leave the country so quickly?” “Perhaps. I have offered my services. I have got my commission. Really, my work here has been somewhat like a review of former studies. And officers are needed----” “Not _over there_?” Ethel gasped.