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Mr. Foote was disturbed. He had not seen his son since the boy flung
out of the office the morning before; had had no word of him. He had
expected Bonbright to come home in the evening and had waited for him
in the library to have a word with him. He had come to the conclusion
that it would be best to throw some sort of sop to Bonbright in the
way of apparent authority, of mock responsibility. It would occupy
the boy's mind, he thought, while in no way altering the conditions,
not affecting the end to be arrived at. Bonbright must be held. ...
If it were necessary to administer an anaesthetic while the operation
of remaking him into a true Foote was performed, why, the anaesthetic
would be forthcoming.
But Bonbright did not come, even with twelve strokes of the clock.
His father retired, but in no refreshing sleep. ... On that day no
progress had been made with the Marquis Lafayette. That work required
a calm that Mr. Foote could not master.
His first act after seating himself at his desk was to summon Rangar.


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