The tracks of the Selfridge party grew fainter after a night of rain.
Selfridge followed orders and let him talk with the men freely.
Another literary man, who certainly ought to know better, wrote in another paper a piece of hero-worship about Mr. Selfridge.
Selfridge was not eager to meet his chief, but he knew he must report at once.
Selfridge had come in jauntily, a cigar in his mouth, but at sight of the grim face of his chief the grin fled.
