picture next to his mother's on the dresser in there, hasn't he? He's up in Evanston every time I hear of him out anywhere; looks to me he has to have that girl, Gregg, or he'll never have any one. If there ever was a one-woman man, that's Bill. Lucky she seems to like him; of course she ought to, if she knows a good man when she sees one. Now, do you want to slip him the job of mixing into that affair?"
Gregg shook his head, hoping that the cigarette smoke was hiding the redness of his face. "No, Jimmie—but how the devil can I?"
"What've you got to lose?"
"I mean, how can a fellow like me mix into Mr. Hale's personal concerns? Damn it, it's his own life."
"You haven't got to argue it's not; no one's expecting you to start a reform; you simply have to tip him not to give Russell any opportunity for action just now. Why, he'll thank you for it, Gregg. He has his family to protect and his job to look out for, too. He's worked up into a big position; making a lot of money, but he hasn't a stock interest that amounts to anything yet; and a man doesn't advance himself to be general manager of a big company like Tri-Lake Materials without pushing aside a lot of others and making his enemies. Take E. H. Stanway, right there in his company; he figured only a year or so ago there was nothing surer in the world than for him to step into the presidency of a ten-million-dollar corporation when old Dorsett shuffles off or gives up; but here's Charles Hale coming along so fast that, if Stanway is vice-president, he knows that Hale's practically past him. He don't want Dorsett to resign any more, unless he can kill off Hale first. Now suppose Russell takes a shot at Hale near that flat to-night or anything else
