"Yes; sit down," said Blount crisply, and then: "Collins, what do you do with yourself when I am out of town?"
"I stay here most of the time. I went out early this afternoon, but I don't often do it."
The young man looked away as if he expected to find his answer in the farther corner of the room.
"I don't know as you'd call it unusual," he replied half-hesitantly. "There were a good many callers. Shall I bring you the list?"
The stenographer went out to his desk and brought back a slip of paper with the names.
"This man Gryson," said Blount, running his eye over the memorandum, "I see you've got him down four or five times. What did he want?"
"He wouldn't tell me. But he was all kinds of anxious to see you. That was why I telegraphed you; I couldn't get rid of him any other way."
Again Collins made a journey to his desk, returning with the telegraph-impression book open at the proper page. Blount glanced at the copy of the brief message: "Thomas Gryson wants to know when he can be sure of finding you here," and handed the book back.
"I sent it down to the despatcher's office by Barney."
Blount nodded. The message had not reached him; and its suppression was doubtless another move in the subtle game.
"You say you couldn't find out what Gryson wanted?" he pressed.
"He--he seemed to be all torn up about something; couldn't say three words without putting a cuss word in with them. The most I could get out of him was that somebody was trying to double-cross him."
Blount took a cigar from his pocket and lighted it. He was faint for lack of food, but he absently mistook the hunger for the tobacco craving.
"Collins," he said evenly, "you appear to forget at times that you are working for a man who has had some little experience with unwilling witnesses in the courts. You are not telling me the truth; or, at least, you're not telling me all of it. Let's have the part that you are keeping back."
"The--the last time he was in, he--he did talk a little," faltered the young man. "He's got something to sell, and he's f-fighting mad at Mr. Kittredge. He said he was going to throw the gaff into somebody damn' quick if Mr. Kittredge didn't wipe off the slate and c-come across with the price."