Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“On the contrary, I have done nothing of the kind.” Van Buren looked at his watch. “I’m afraid that our competitor with the rakish name is going to be late. The time set was ten-thirty; it now lacks three minutes of the half-hour. [half-hour.”]

The private door opened, and at a command from the frantic secretary they both arose eagerly and went inside. Cyrus Girard was standing behind his desk waiting for them, watch in hand.

“Hello!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Where’s Jones?”

Parrish and Van Buren exchanged a smile. If Jones were snagged somewhere so much the better.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” spoke up the secretary, who had been lingering near the door; “Mr. Jones is in Chicago.”

“What’s he doing there?” demanded Cyrus Girard in astonishment.

“He went out to handle the matter of those silver shipments. There wasn’t anyone else who knew much about it, and Mr. Galt thought——”

“Never mind what Mr. Galt thought,” broke in Girard impatiently. “Mr. Jones is no longer employed by this concern. When he gets back from Chicago pay him off and let him go.” He nodded curtly. “That’s all.”