"Not quite," said Jay.
"Message for me?" Lew gibed him. "Or something like that?"
"No."
"What's happened?"
There was nothing, as all three knew, but that Lew Alban had become president of the company whose business was essential to Rountree and that Jay was in business. He made the best of this by saying: "I'm working now, Lew."
"Don't overdo, Jay," advised Lew and, turning to Slengel, went off with him.
It seemed to Jay, as he sat down to a twenty cent cafeteria breakfast, that Ellen Powell and he had made a mistake; he had offered Lew merely amusement at his expense. But that had pleased Lew, he realized; it was what Lew wanted and Lew appreciated it the more because it was before Art Slengel. Jay ceased to feel that he had accomplished nothing by his trip to the station. Certainly he had not dodged Lew; and he reported to Ellen Powell: "He's in town; and Art Slengel was there and got him."
"We'll see him here," prophesied Ellen; and at midafternoon, Lew called on Mr. Rountree, respectful enough in externals. He walked in without knocking, but he always had done that, and that was supposed to imply intimate friendship, not disrespect.
He spoke to her, after he had greeted Mr. Rountree, and his eye, unnoticed by Mr. Rountree, roved to her frequently.
"Slengels wanted to show me through their plant
