ested, and shook hands with “The Chief,” and drew a chair up at one side of the desk, and made himself at home, with his ankle on his knee and his hat on his ankle. The day’s work had begun.
To Barney, watching, it became as bewildering as the smoothly intricate activity of a complicated machine. Babbing dictated letters in a leisurely undertone that was continually intermitted for telephone calls, the arrival of opened telegrams, corroboratory references to filed records, consultations with Archibald, directions to operatives, and above and around and under it all an interested reciprocation of talk with Snider. “Hello? Yes. Where are you? Have you got the goods on him? I see. Who ’s with you? Can you get in to see me? I ’ll relieve you with Corcoran. Three-thirty this afternoon.”. . . “Take this. William P. Sarrow, and so forth. Dear Sir. Yours of the fifteenth. Regret that I ’m unable to meet you and so forth. Previous engagements in Chicago on that
