The Voice in the Fog - Page 49/93

The building in which Killigrew and Company had its offices belonged to

Killigrew personally. It had cost him a round million to build, but

the office-rentals were making it a fine investment. These ornate

office-buildings caused Thomas to marvel unceasingly. In London

cubby-holes were sufficient. If merchants like Killigrew, generally

these were along the water-front; creaky, old, dim-windowed. In this

bewildering country a man conducted his business as from a palace. The

warehouses were distinct establishments.

Thomas entered the portals, stepped cautiously into one of the

express-elevators (so they insisted upon calling them here), and was

shot up to the fourteenth floor, all of which was occupied by Killigrew

and Company. It was Thomas' first venture in this district. And he

learned the amazing fact that it was ordinarily as easy to see Mr.

Killigrew as it was to see King George. Office-boys, minor clerks,

head clerks, managers; they quizzed and buffeted him hither and

thither. He never thought to state at the outset that he was Mrs.

Killigrew's private secretary; he merely said that it was very

important that he should see Mr. Killigrew at once.

"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?"