Madden’s manner changed suddenly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But this is annoying, you must admit. I wanted that necklace to start today.”
“The day’s young,” Eden reminded him. “It may get off yet.”
“I hope so,” Madden frowned. “I’m not accustomed to this sort of dilly-dallying, I can tell you that.”
His great head was tossing angrily as he went out. Bob Eden looked after him, thoughtfully. Madden, master of many millions, was putting what seemed an undue emphasis on a little pearl necklace. The boy wondered. His father was getting on in years—he was far from the New York markets. Had he made some glaring mistake in setting a value on that necklace? Was it, perhaps, worth a great deal more than he had asked, and was Madden fuming to get hold of it before the jeweler learned his error and pe
