How do you and Morton get on?"
"First-rate, I hope. He's treated me generously."
Then she fastened her eyes upon him with quizzical severity.
"Young man, the 'Advertiser' seems to think Morton Bassett is crooked.
What do you think about it?"
Dan gasped and stammered at this disconcerting question.
She rested her arms on the table and bent toward him, the humor showing
in her eyes.
"If he _is_ crooked, young man, you needn't think you have to be as big
a sinner as he is! You remember that Sally Owen told you that. Be your
own boss. Morton's a terrible persuader. Funny for me to be talking to
you this way; I don't usually get confidential so quick. I guess"--and
her eyes twinkled--"we'll have to consider ourselves old friends to make
it right."
"You are very kind, indeed, Mrs. Owen. I see that I have a
responsibility about Allen. I'll keep an eye on him.
"Drop in now and then. I eat a good many Sunday dinners alone when I'm
at home, and you may come whenever you feel like facing a tiresome old
woman across the table."
She followed him into the hall, where they ran into Sylvia, who had been
upstairs saying good-night to her grandfather. Mrs. Owen arrested
Sylvia's flight through the hall.
"Sylvia, I guess you and Mr. Harwood are already acquainted."
"Except," said Dan, "that we haven't been introduced!"
"Then, Miss Garrison, this is Mr.
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