Her letter completed, she sealed it in a plain white envelop, after
which she changed into her best dress and shoes and departed up-town.
Straight to the mill office of the Tyee Lumber Company she went, her
appearance outside the railing in the general office being the signal
for many a curious and speculative glance from the girls and young men
at work therein. One of the former, with whom Nan had attended high
school, came over to the railing and, without extending a greeting,
either of word or smile, asked, in businesslike tones,
"Whom do you wish to see?"
In direct contrast with this cool salutation, Nan inclined her head
graciously and smilingly said:
"Why, how do you do, Hetty? I wonder if I might be permitted a minute
of Mr. Daney's time."
"I'll see," Hetty replied, secretly furious in the knowledge that she
had been serenely rebuked, and immediately disappeared in the general
manager's office. A moment later, she emerged. "Mr. Daney will see
you, Miss Brent," she announced. "First door to your right. Go right
in."
"Thank you very much, Hetty."
Andrew Daney, seated at a desk, stood up as she entered.
"How do you do, Nan?" he greeted her, with masculine cordiality, and
set out a chair. "Please be seated and tell me what I can do to oblige
you."
A swift scrutiny of the private office convinced her that they were
alone; so she advanced to the desk and laid upon it the letter she had
addressed to Donald McKaye.
"I would be grateful, Mr. Daney, if you would see that Mr. Donald
McKaye receives this letter when he comes in from the woods to-night,"
she replied. Daney was frankly amazed.
"Bless my soul," he blurted, "why do you entrust me with it? Would it
not have been far simpler to have mailed it?"
"Not at all, Mr. Daney. In the first place, the necessity for writing
it only developed an hour ago, and in order to be quite certain Mr.
McKaye would receive it this evening, I would have had to place a
special-delivery stamp upon it. I did not have a special-delivery
stamp; so, in order to get one, I would have had to go to the
post-office and buy it. And the instant I did that, the girl on duty
at the stamp-window would have gone to the mail-chute to get the
letter and read the address. So I concluded it would be far more
simple and safe to entrust my letter to you. Moreover," she added, "I
save ten cents."
"I am very greatly obliged to you, Nan," Daney answered soberly. "You
did exactly right," Had she conferred upon him a distinct personal
favor, his expression of obligation could not have been more sincere.
He took a large envelop of the Tyee Lumber Company, wrote Donald's
name upon it, enclosed Nan's letter in this large envelop, and sealed
it with a mighty blow of his fist. "Now then," he declared, "what
people do not know will not trouble them. After you go, I'll place
this envelop in Don's mail-box in the outer office. I think we
understand each other," he added shrewdly.
"I think we do, Mr. Daney."
"Splendid fellow, young Donald! Thundering fine boy!"
"I agree with you, Mr. Daney. If Donald has a fault, it is his
excessive democracy and loyalty to his friends. Thank you so much, Mr.
Daney. Good-afternoon."
"Not at all--not at all! All this is quite confidential, of course,
otherwise you would not be here." He bowed her to the door, opened it
for her, and bowed again as she passed him. When she had gone, he
summoned the young lady whom Nan had addressed as "Hetty."
"Miss Fairchaild," he said, "'phone the local sales-office and tell
them to deliver a load of fire-wood to the Brent house at the Sawdust
Pile."
Two minutes later, the entire office force knew that Nan Brent had
called to order a load of fire-wood, and once more the world sagged
into the doldrums.