Then she added quickly: "I wonder if your father has seen it ?" Jefferson grinned.

He had something on his conscience, and this was a good opportunity to get rid of it.

He replied laconically: "He probably has read it by this time.

I sent him a copy myself." The instant the words were out of his mouth he was sorry, for Shirley's face had changed colour.
"You sent him a copy of 'The American Octopus' ?" she cried.

"Then he'll guess who wrote the book." "Oh, no, he won't," rejoined Jefferson calmly.