ally, Charley," he said, in parting. "And you won't forget, in case he says anything about it—and remember if you ever do get a chance to put in a good word for me later, you know———"
Old Charley promised to remember, and, when Mrs. Lohr came out of the "kitchenette," after the door closed, he said thoughtfully, "Just skin and bones."
"You mean Mr. Adams is?" Mrs. Lohr inquired.
"Who'd you think I meant?" he returned. "One o' these partridges in the wall-paper?"
"Did he look so badly?"
"Looked kind of distracted to me," her husband replied. "These little thin fellers can stand a heap sometimes, though. He'll be over here again Monday."
"Did he say he would?"
"No," said Lohr. "But he will. You'll see. He'll be over to find out what the big boss says when I give him this letter. Expect I'd be kind of anxious, myself, if I was him."
"Why would you? What's Mr. Adams doing to be so anxious about?"
Lohr's expression became one of reserve, the look of a man who has found that when he speaks his inner
