“I directed you to keep him under your eye.”
“Your directions were followed, Mr. Foote, so far as was possible. I know where he was yesterday, and where he went last night, but when a young man is running around the country in an automobile with a girl, it’s mighty hard to keep at his heels. He was with that girl.”
“When? ... What happened?”
“He waited for her at the Lightener plant. She works there now. They drove out the Avenue together—some place into the country. Mr. Bonbright is a member of the Apple Lake Club, and I was sure they were going there. ... That’s the last I know.”
“Telephone the Apple Lake Club. See if he was there and when he left.”
Rangar retired to do so, and returned presently to report that Bonbright and a young lady had dined there, but had not been seen after they left the table. Nobody could say when they went away from the club.
“Call Malcolm Lightener—at his office. Once the boy stayed at his house.”
Rangar made the call, and, not able to repress the malice that was in him, went some steps beyond his directions. Mr. Lightener was on the wire.
“This is Rangar, Mr. Lightener—Bonbright Foote, Incorporated. Mr. Foote wished me to inquire if you had seen Mr. Bonbright between six o’clock last night and this morning.”
“No. ... Why does he ask me? What’s the matter?”
“Mr. Foote says Bonbright stayed with you one night, and thought he might have done so again. Mr. Foote is worried, sir. The young man has—er—vanished, so to speak. He was seen last at your plant about five o’clock. In his automobile, Mr. Lightener. He was waiting for a young woman who works for you—a Miss Frazer, I understand. Used to be his secretary. They drove away together, and he hasn’t been seen since. ... Mr. Foote has feared some sort of—er—understanding between them.”
“Huh!” grunted Lightener. “Don’t know anything about it. Tell Foote to look after his own son ... if he knows how.” Then the receiver clicked.
Lightener swung away from the telephone and scowled at the wall. “He don’t look it,” he said, presently, “and I’m darned if she does. ... Huh! ...” He pressed a button. “Send in Miss Frazer,” he said to the boy who answered the buzzer.
In a moment Ruth stood in the door. He let her stand while he scrutinized her briefly. She looked ill. Her eyes were dull and marked by surrounding darkness. She had no color. He shook his head Like a displeased lion.
“Miss Frazer,” he said, gruffly, “I make it a practice always to mind my own business except when there’s some reason for not minding it— which is frequent.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, as he paused.
“Yes, sir. ... Yes, sir. What do you know about it? Come in and shut the door. Come over here where I can look at you. What’s the matter? Ill? If you’re sick what are you doing here? Home’s the place for you.”