“Mr. Killigrew is busy,” he was informed by the assistant manager, at whose desk Thomas finally arrived.  “If you will give me your card I’ll have it sent in to him.”

Thomas confessed that he had no card.  The assistant manager grew distinctly chilling.

“If you will be so kind as to inform Mr. Killigrew that Mr. Webb, Mrs. Killigrew’s private secretary . . .”

“Why didn’t you say that at once, Mr. Webb?  Here, boy; tell Mr. Killigrew that Mr. Webb wishes to see him.  You might just as well follow the boy.”

Killigrew was smoking, and perusing the baseball edition of his favorite evening paper.  All this red-tape to approach a man who wasn’t doing anything more vital than that!  Thomas smiled.  It was a wonderful people.

“Why, hello, Webb!  What’s the matter?  Anything wrong at the house?”—­anxiously.

“No, Mr. Killigrew.  I came to see you on a personal matter.”

Killigrew dropped the newspaper on his desk, a little frown between his eyes.  He made no inquiry.

“Miss Killigrew tells me that you will not be home this evening, and that I am to take her and Mrs. Killigrew to the theater.”

“Anything in the way to prevent you?” Killigrew appeared vastly relieved for some reason.

“As a matter of fact, sir, I haven’t the proper clothes; and I thought you might advise me where to go to obtain them.”

Killigrew laughed until the tears started.  The very heartiness of it robbed it of all rudeness.  “Good lord! and I was worrying my head off.  Webb, you’re all right.  Do you need any funds?”

“I believe I have enough.”  Thomas appeared to be disturbed not in the least by the older man’s hilarity.  It was not infectious, because he did not understand it.

“Glad you came to me.  Always come to me when you’re in doubt about anything.  I’m no authority on clothes, but my secretary is.  I’ll have him take you to a tailor where you can rent a suit for to-night.  He’ll take your measure, and by the end of the week . . .”  He did not finish the sentence, but pressed one of the many buttons on his desk.  “Clark, this is Mr. Webb, Mrs. Killigrew’s secretary.  He wants some clothes.  Take him along with you.”

Alone again, Killigrew smiled broadly.  The humor of the situation did not blind him to the salient fact that this Webb was a man of no small courage.  He recognized in this courage a commendable shrewdness also:  Webb wanted the right thing, honest clothes for honest dollars.  A man like that would be well worth watching.  And for a moment he had thought that Webb had fallen in love with Kitty and wanted to marry her!  He chuckled.  Clothes!