CHAPTER XX
MISSING
When Stoddard did not come to his desk that morning the matter remained
for a time unnoticed, except by McPherson, who fretted a bit at so
unusual a happening. Truth to tell, the old Scotchman had dreaded having
this rich young man for an associate, and had put a rod in pickle for
his chastisement. When Stoddard turned out to be a regular worker,
punctual, amenable to discipline, he congratulated himself, and praised
his assistant, but warily. Now came the first delinquency, and in his
heart he cared more that Stoddard should absent himself without notice
than for the pile of letters lying untouched.
"Dave," he finally said to the yellow office boy, "I wish you'd 'phone
to Mr. Stoddard's place and see when he'll be down."
Dave came back with the information that Mr. Stoddard was not at the
house; he had left for an early-morning ride, and not returned to his
breakfast.
"He'll just about have stopped up at the Country Club for a snack,"
MacPherson muttered to himself. "I wonder who or what he found there
attractive enough to keep him from his work."
Looking into Gray's office at noon, the closed desk with its pile of
mail once more offended MacPherson's eye.
"Mr. Stoddard here?" inquired Hartley Sessions, glancing in at the same
moment.
"No, I think not," returned the Scotchman, unwilling to admit that he
did not exactly know.
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