Pearson was gazing out of the
window. The captain looked at his watch and rose.
"I guess I'll have to be goin'," he said. "It's after twelve now."
His host swung around in his chair. "Sit down, Captain," he said. "I've
been doing a lot of thinking since I saw you, and I'm not sure about
that reason. I believe I'll ask your advice. It is a delicate matter,
and it involves your brother. You may see it as he did, and, if so, our
friendship ends, I suppose. But I'm going to risk it.
"Mr. Rodgers Warren and I," he went on, "were well acquainted during the
latter part of my newspaper work. I was financial man on the Planet, and
some articles I wrote took your brother's fancy. At all events, he wrote
me concerning them in highly complimentary terms and asked me to call
and see him at his office. I did so and--well, we became very friendly,
so much so that he invited me to his house. I dined there several times,
was invited to call often, and--I enjoyed it. You see, I had few friends
in the city, outside my journalistic acquaintances, and I suppose I was
flattered by Mr. Warren's kindness and the fancy he seemed to have taken
to me. And I liked Miss Warren--no one could help that--and I believed
she liked me."
"She does like you," interrupted his companion, with surprise.
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