Appointment for Tomorrow

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He had heard the hush, the sudden silence, in the large outer office and he had frowned, wondering at the cause. For the past year he had been working with an increasing sense of urgency, and on the backing of his loyal staff depended much of his efficiency. And so the silence annoyed him.

His secretary, Martha Hood, came into his office, closed the door behind her. She said, hesitantly, “There — are some men to see you, Mr. Larkin.”

This was no example of Miss Hood’s usual crisp efficiency.

With irritation firmly under check, he said evenly, “Why didn’t you use the intercom? And who are these men?”

Miss Hood looked very strange. Her face was pale. Her lips trembled. Suddenly he knew the answer.

He had been checking a column of figures. The long yellow pencil snapped in his fingers and he looked at the broken piece dully as it rolled across the desk, dropped to the floor with a tiny clatter. “So soon!” he said softly. “So soon.”

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