"I would like to speak to him now before he begins," he whispered. "I
can't wait."
Mr. Andrews stared in amazement. The banker had not believed the young
man could look so serious.
"Speak to him, _now_!" exclaimed the district attorney. "You've got to
wait till your man comes up. If you speak to the judge, _now_--" The
voice of Andrews faded away in horror.
Not knowing in what way he had offended, but convinced that it was only
by the grace of Andrews he had escaped a dungeon, Mr. Thorndike
retreated to his arm-chair.
* * * * *
The clock on the wall showed him that, already, he had given to young
Spear one hour and a quarter. The idea was preposterous. No one better
than himself knew what his time was really worth. In half an hour there
was a board meeting; later, he was to hold a post mortem on a railroad;
at every moment questions were being asked by telegraph, by cable,
questions that involved the credit of individuals, of firms, of even
the country. And the one man who could answer them was risking untold
sums only that he might say a good word for an idle apprentice.
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