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“Where’s the Boss?” he demanded of the Chinaman who served Mr. Whitney. “Gone to bed?” But he could not trust Jerry, and the feeling worried him. When Sunday came around without the return of Mr. Whitney he determined to make a last effort to find out just where Jerry stood. He did not dare risk coming out into the open and asking Jerry what his suspicious movements meant. If Jerry were guilty of wrong-doing, he would at once know that Bob was onto something. In that case it was quite possible that Jerry would fire the first gun before Bob was ready to combat it. Just to lie here and think!.
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Conrad
It was weeks before there came a break in the monotony of his work. He had forced himself to be cheerful about his stupid job and not to show by the least sign that he was not entirely content with the work he had been set to do. Mr. Taylor, who since the advent of the Chief, had taken charge of the office work, spoke to Mr. Whitney. “That boy, Hazard, is a good lad,” he said. “Although the plucky beggar won’t own up, I think he is eating his heart out at the draughting board. I can get along without him, so give him a chance outside if you can.” How tiresome Miss Melling was! Well, if she offered him cookies and jelly today, as she sometimes did, she would find out that he wouldn’t take anything from her. Never in the world. “Doesn’t your father believe in the project?” The wind was roaring so that they could scarcely hear each other speak..
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