"I have heard that nonsense of yours before. What I want to know," Obadiah bleated in a high falsetto, "is, how fast were you going?" Again, Ike turned to the skies. Suddenly came a change. His doubtful demeanor disappeared. He met the stern countenance of his employer with a glad smile of confidence and assurance. To him, in the hour of need, had been vouchsafed a solution of his problem. "Miss Sereny," he explained, with great satisfaction, "she done tell me not to drive no fas'er den er hoss an' ker'idge kin go. Dat's jes how fas' ah goes." Obadiah leaped into his car and slammed the door. "Take me to my office," he blazed. Ike obeyed him, running, it may be noted, at a speed well above that usually attained by the horses and carriages of Serena's fond remembrance. Obadiah entered his office yet much irritated by the recent examination of his chauffeur. "Jones," he shouted peevishly. "At your service, Sir," responded the ever courteous private secretary, ceasing his social plannings for the House of Dale, hurriedly, and leaving the bookkeeper sorely embarrassed in his labors, through the loss of the voucher from which he was working snatched away by Mr. Jones, and borne into the manufacturer's presence, as proof that his absence was due to zealous watchfulness of his employer's interests, rather than to personal motives. "Tell Mr. Wilkins that I want to see him." "Immediately, sir." Obadiah's voice demanded speed and Mr. Jones sped, bearing the bookkeeper's work away with him. In a moment the expeditious private secretary returned followed by Hezekiah Wilkins who passed on into Obadiah's room and closed the door. Obadiah was waiting behind a large desk in the center, and motioning to his legal adviser to be seated, made known his business in these words. "An embarrassing personal matter has occurred, Hezekiah, in which I must ask your assistance." The manufacturer chose his words with care. Diplomacy is necessary when asking corporation lawyers to attend to the minor concerns of life. "It is so small a matter, I hesitate to ask your advice." Mr. Wilkins was short and fat. His head was bald and his face intellectual. There was a glint of humor in his eyes which was very noticeable when he removed his nose glasses for purposes of gesticulation. His defective sight did not prevent him from casting a keen glance at his employer, meanwhile tapping upon his front teeth with the gold frame of his glasses. "Don't hesitate on my account, Obadiah." There was a shadow of a smile on the attorney's face. "I've done everything for you, but--" he intended to suggest as a pleasantry--"bail you out of jail," but after a second's consideration of his employer's grim countenance, he continued, "buy you a marriage license," as being less likely to affront a sensitive soul.