the waiting game; keep the future looking "bright and interesting." Breede could do the rest.
"Buzz! Buzz-z-z-z! Buzz-z-z-z-z!" It sounded pretty vicious.
He entered Breede's room with his accustomed air of quiet service. Breede did not glance at him. He began, as usual, to dictate before Bean was seated.
"Letter T. J. Williams 'sistant sup'ntendent M. P. 'n' C. department C. 'n' L. M. rai'way Sh'kawgo dear sir please note 'closed schej'l car 'pairin' make two copies send one don't take that an' let me have at y'r earles c'nvenience"
Apparently nothing at all had happened. He was at his old post, and Breede did nothing but explode fragments of words as ever. No talk of jail or betrayal of trust or of his morning's flagrant absence.
One might have thought that Breede himself played the waiting game. Or perhaps Breede only toyed with him. He fastened his gaze on the criminal cuffs. They were his rock of refuge in any cataclysm that might impend. If only he could keep those cuffs within his range of vision he would fear nothing. Patent laundry tubs; five dollars saved; why your husband failed in business; bright and interesting future
"'Lo! 'Lo!" Breede was detonating into the desk-telephone which had sounded at his elbow.
"'Lo! Well? What? Run off! Stop nonsense! Busy!" He hung up the receiver.
