Mr. Akerson jumped to his feet, a sudden rage seeming to possess him.

He sprang to the door and locked it and turned on the girls. Tavia slipped instinctively behind a chair, but Dorothy stood her ground, facing the enraged man with courage and aloofness.

"You can't frighten me, Mr. Akerson," she said to him. White with rage the man approached nearer and nearer to Dorothy.

"Just what do you mean?" he asked, and there was that in the cool, and incisive quality of his tones that made both girls feel, if they had not before, that they had rather undertaken too much in coming to the office.

There was silence for a moment in the office, a silence that seemed yet to echo to the rasping of the lock in the door, a sound that had a sinister meaning. And yet it seemed to flash to Dorothy that, at the worst, the man could only frighten them-force them, perhaps, to some admission that would make his own case stand out in a better light, if it came to law procedings.

Too late, Dorothy realized, as perhaps did Tavia, that they had been indiscreet, from a legal standpoint, in thus coming into the camp of an enemy, unprotected by a lawyer's advice.

All sorts of complications might ensue from this hasty proceeding. Yet Dorothy, even in that moment of trouble, realized that she must keep her brain clear for whatever might transpire. Tavia, she felt, might do something reckless-well meant, no doubt, but none the less something that might put a weapon in the hands of the man against whom they hoped to proceed for the sake of Aunt Winnie.

"Just what do you mean?" snapped the man again, and he seemed master of the situation, even though Dorothy thought she detected a gleam of-was it fear? in his eyes. "I am not in the habit of being spoken to in that manner," he went on.

"I am afraid I shall have to ask you to explain yourself. It is the first time I have ever been accused of wrongdoing."

"I guess it isn't the first time it has happened, though," murmured Tavia.

"What's that?" demanded the man, quickly turning toward her. Even bold Tavia quailed, so menacing did his action seem.

"There always has to be a first time," she subst.i.tuted in louder tones.

"I don't know whether you are aware of it, or not, young ladies," the agent proceeded, "but it is rather a dangerous proceeding to make indiscriminate accusations, as you have just done to me."

"Danger-dangerous?" faltered Dorothy.

"Exactly!" and the sleek fellow smiled in unctuous fashion. "There is such a thing as criminal libel, you know."

"But we haven't published anything!" retorted Tavia. "I-I thought a libel had to be published."

"The publishing of a libel is not necessarily in a newspaper," retorted Mr. Akerson. "It may be done by word of mouth, as our courts have held in several cases. I warn you to be careful of what you say."

"He seems to be well up on court matters," thought Tavia, taking heart.

"I guess he isn't so innocent as he would like to appear."

"I would like to know what you young ladies want here?" the agent blurted out.

"Information," said Tavia, sharply.

"What for?"

"What is information generally for?" asked Tavia, verbally fencing with the man. "We want to know where we stand."

"Do you mean you want to find out what sort of apartments they are-whether they are of high cla.s.s?"

He was a.s.suming a more and more defiant att.i.tude, as he plainly saw that the girls, as he thought, were weakening.

"Something of that sort-yes," answered Tavia. "You know we want to start right. But then, of course," and she actually smiled, "we would like to know all the ins and outs. We are not at all business-like-I admit that-and we certainly did not mean to libel you." Crafty Tavia! Thus, she thought she might minimize any unintentional indiscretion she had committed.

"Mrs. White doesn't know much about business, either," she went on. "She would like to, though, wouldn't she, Dorothy?"

"Oh, yes-yes," breathed Dorothy, scarcely knowing what she said. She was trying to think of a way out of the dilemma in which she and Tavia found themselves.

"I will give Mrs. White any information she may need," said Mr. Akerson, coldly.

"But about the apartments themselves," said Tavia. "She wants to know what income they bring in-about the new improvements-the cla.s.s of tenants-Oh, the thousand and one things that a woman ought to know about her own property."

"Rather indefinite," sneered the man.

"I don't mean to be so," flashed Tavia. "I want to be very definite-as very definite as it is possible for you to be," and she looked meaningly at the agent. "We want to know all you can tell us," she went on, and, growing bolder, added: "We want to know why there is not more money coming from those apartments; don't we, Dorothy?" and she moved over nearer to her chum.

"Yes-yes, of course," murmured Dorothy, hardly knowing what she was saying, and hoping Tavia was not going too far.

"More money?" the agent cried.

"Yes," retorted Tavia. "What have you done that you should be ent.i.tled to more than the legal rate?"

"I brought those apartments up to their present fitness," he snarled, "and whatever I get over and above the regular rentals, is mine; do you understand that? What do you know about real estate laws? I'll keep you both locked in this office, until I grind out of your heads the silliness that led you to try and trap me. I'll keep you here until--"

"You will not," said Dorothy.

"Where did she go?" He suddenly missed Tavia, and Dorothy, turning, saw too that Tavia had disappeared.

"This is nothing but a scheme to get us down here," cried Dorothy, after several moments of anxiety, "Aunt Winnie was never expected, and now Tavia has gone!"

"Oh, no I haven't," cried Tavia, as she stepped from a sound-proof private telephone booth. "I've just been looking about the office. It's an interesting place, and the melodrama of Mr. Akerson I found quite wearisome."

"Also that my private 'phone isn't connected; didn't you?" he said.

Suddenly dropping the pose of the villain in a cheap melodrama, he smiled again and rubbing his hands together said, as though there never had been a disagreeable word uttered:

"Seriously, girls, that Bergham woman is out of her head, that's a fact.

You must know there is something queer about her."

On that point he certainly had Dorothy and Tavia puzzled. Mrs. Bergham surely was not the kind of a person either Tavia or Dorothy would have selected as a friend, and they looked at the man with hesitation. He followed up the advantage he had gained quickly.

"Here's something you young ladies knew nothing about-that woman has hallucinations! It has nearly driven her poor little sister, Miss Mingle, distracted. Why, girls, she tells Miss Mingle such yarns, and the poor little woman believes them and blames me." He looked terribly hurt and misunderstood.

"To show your good faith," demanded Dorothy, "unlock the door. Then we will listen to all you have to say. But, first, I must command you to talk to us with the doors wide open!"

"With pleasure, it was stupid to have locked it at all," he agreed affably. "Now if you'll just come with me to the bookkeeper's department I'll prove everything to your entire satisfaction, and since Mrs. White has not seen fit to keep her appointment, you may convey the intelligence to her, just where you stand in this matter."

"About the apartment we might wish to rent," said Tavia, serenely, "have you the floor plan, that we might look over it?"

Tavia was just behind Mr. Akerson, and Dorothy brought up the rear.

"I'm not as much interested in the books as in the floor plan," explained Tavia.

"The only one I have is hanging on the wall of my private office," he said slowly, looking Tavia over from head to foot.