And perhaps he never did. If he did, the office presented him a
blank and innocent face. "Miss Brown, did you see this bill Mr.
Brauer speaks of?" "Beg pardon? Oh, no, Miss Thornton." "Miss
Cashell, did you? " "Just-one-moment-Miss-Thornton-until-I-foot-up-
this-column. Thank you! No. No, I haven't seen it, Miss Thornton.
Did you trace it to my desk, Mr. Brauer?"

Baffled, Mr. Brauer would retire to his office. Ten silent, busy
minutes would elapse before Miss Cottle would say, in a low tone,
"Bet it was that bill that you were going to take home and work on,
Miss Murray!"

"Oh, sure!" Miss Murray would agree, with a startled smile. "Sure.
Mamma stuck it behind the clock--I remember now. I'll bring it down
to-morrow."

"Don't you forget it, now," Miss Thornton would perhaps command,
with a sudden touch of authority, "old Baxter'd jump out of his skin
if he knew we ever took 'em home!"

"Well, YOU do!" Miss Murray would retort, reddening resentfully.

"Ah, well," Susan Brown would answer pompously, for Miss Thornton,
"you forget that I'm almost a member of the firm! Me and the Baxters
can do pretty much what we like! I'll fire Brauer to-morrow if he--"

"You shut up, Susan!" Miss Thornton, her rising resentment pricked
like a bubble, would laugh amiably, and the subject of the bill
would be dismissed with a general chuckle.