Tell Jonas to
interrupt us promptly at seven, I mustn't be late to dinner. Now, for
this mess."
Once more he began the attack on the day's mail, which Abbott had
already reduced to its lowest dimensions. Enoch worked with a power of
concentration and a quick decisiveness that were ably seconded by
Charley Abbott. It was a quarter before seven when Enoch picked up the
last letter. He read it through rapidly, then laid it down slowly, and
stared out of the window for a long moment. Abbott gave his chief's
face a quick glance, then softly shoved under his hand the pile of
letters that were waiting signature. The letter that Enoch had just
read was dated at the Grand Canyon.
"Dear Mr. Secretary," it ran, "it is twenty-two years since I took a
red-headed New York boy down Bright Angel trail. You and I have never
heard from each other since, but, naturally I have followed your career
with interest. And now I'm going to ask a favor of you. My daughter
Diana wants a job in the Indian Bureau and she's coming to Washington
to see you. Don't give her a job! She doesn't have to work. I can
take care of her. I'm an old man and selfish and I don't like to be
deprived of my daughter for my few remaining years.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97