He knew not which of the higher employees was charged with that secret espionage so necessary to the final success of the Worthington, Durham and Ferris conspiracy.
Was it the pale-faced Somers, the smooth old accountant, his pompous chief, Mr.Robert Wade, or some one of those who had broken his bread and drank his wine in the occasional friendship of the business coterie.

And now Clayton hated the old money-lover who was foisting a husband on his only child merely to chain a Senator to the wheels of the money chariot.
Seated alone, in the evening, watching the treasured picture, and waiting for the day of the diva's breakfast, a fierce desire for stern reprisals took possession of Clayton.

"I have it!" he murmured.
The pathway seemed clear at last.

And the next day, following out his self-protective scheme, he directed the bright-faced office boy Einstein to report at his rooms on the ensuing evening.
There was a broad grin on the young rascal's face when he finally left his master.

He darted away with a ten-dollar bill in his purse, the earnest of a secret monthly stipend.