He had not
worked long, when one of the boys told him that:
"Mr. Cassius Curlew wants to see you, Mr. Stirling."
Peter stopped his writing, looking up quickly: "Did he say on what
business?"
"No."
"Ask him, please." And Peter went on writing till the boy returned.
"He says it's about the convention."
"Tell him he must be more specific."
The boy returned in a moment with a folded scrap of paper.
"He said that would tell you, Mr. Stirling."
Peter unfolded the scrap, and read upon it: "A message from Maguire."
"Show him in." Peter touched a little knob on his desk on which was
stamped "Chief Clerk." A moment later a man opened a door. "Samuels,"
said Peter, "I wish you would stay here for a moment. I want you to
listen to what's said."
The next moment a man crossed the threshold of another door.
"Good-morning, Mr. Stirling," he said.
"Mr. Curlew," said Peter, without rising and with a cold inclination of
his head.
"I have a message for you, Mr. Stirling," said the man, pulling a chair
into a position that suited him, and sitting, "but it's private.
Pages:
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608