Sorrell sat still,—but he was quivering.
"Perhaps you'll suggest a job."
Buck threw the book on the window-sill.
"Look here, don't let there be any doubt about it. I'm responsible here. And I'm going to do my job, see. I've got the 'Skipper's' interests in my mind. He's a sport"
The implication was obvious, but Sorrell kept his temper. He was not going to uncover himself to this big creature.
"I agree. But this is one of Mr. Roland's books."
"Did he lend it you?"
"Yes."
Buck nodded a sage head.
"He's one of the easy sort. That makes it a bit more obvious, don't it? You look about and get busy. I don't blab,—but I use my eyes. You get busy."
