The Efficiency Expert

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 88

evidence that there is such a man in our employ. I think you
ought to be armed, Mr. Torrance. Have you a pistol?"

Jimmy shook his head negatively.

"No, sir," he said; "not here."

Compton opened a desk drawer.

"Take this one," he said, and handed Jimmy an automatic.

The latter smiled. "Really, Mr. Compton," he said, "I don't believe I
need such an article."

"I want you to take it," insisted Compton. "I want you to be on the
safe side."

A moment later Bince and Jimmy left the office together. Jimmy still
carried the pistol in his hand.

"You'd better put that thing in your pocket," cautioned Bince.

They were in the small office on which Compton's and Bince's offices
opened, and Jimmy had stopped beside the desk that had been placed there
for him.

"I think I'll leave it here," he said. "The thing would be a nuisance in
my pocket," and he dropped it into one of the desk drawers, while Bince
continued his way toward the shop.

Compton was looking through the papers and letters on his desk,
evidently searching for something which he could not find, while the
girl sat waiting for him to continue his dictation.

"That's funny," commented Compton.

"I was certain that that letter was here. Have you seen anything of a
letter from Mosher?"

"No, sir," replied Edith.

"Well, I wish you would step into Mr. Bince's office, and see if it is
on his desk."

Upon the assistant general manager's desk lay a small pile of papers,
face down, which Edith proceeded to examine in search of the Mosher
letter. She had turned them all over at once, commencing at what had
previously been the bottom of the pile, so that she ran through them all
without finding the Mosher letter before she came to Murray's epistle.

As its import dawned upon her, her eyes widened at first in surprise and
then narrowed as she realized the value of her discovery. At first she
placed the letter back with the others just as she had found them, but
on second thought she took it up quickly and, folding it, slipped it
inside her waist. Then she returned to Compton's office.

"I cannot find the Mosher letter," she said.




CHAPTER XXIII.

LAID UP.

Harriet Holden was sitting in Elizabeth's boudoir. "And he had the
effrontery," the latter was saying, "to tell me what I must do and must
not do! The idea! A miserable little milk-wagon driver dictating to me!"

Miss Holden smiled.

"I should not call him very little," she remarked.

"I didn't mean physically," retorted Elizabeth. "It is

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