3
trict Attorney,' and that you have a right to drive me crazy if you want to."
"Crazy?" Dundee was genuinely amazed, contrite. "I beg your pardon most humbly, Miss Crain. I'll go back to my cell--"
"Your office is almost as big and nice as this one," Penny retorted, but her sharp, bright brown eyes--really almost the color of a new penny--softened until they took on a velvety depth.
Dundee did not fail to notice the softening, nor did the little heart-shaped face, with its low widow's-peak, its straight, short nose, and its pointed little chin, made almost childish by the deep cleft which cut through its obvious effort to look mature and determined, fail to please him any more acutely than on the other days of the one short week he had been privileged at intervals to gaze upon it.
"But the files, and--other things--are in this office," he told her, his blue eyes twinkling happily once more.
"Don't you dare touch my files again!" Penny cried, springing to her feet and running toward the wall which was completely concealed by drawers, cabinets and shelves, filled with the records of which she was the proud custodian. "That's why I said just now that you were driving me crazy. Thursday you took a whole folder of correspondence out of the letter files and put it back under the wrong initial. I had to hunt for it for two hours, with Bill--I mean, Mr. Sanderson--gnawing his nails with impatience. He thought I had filed it wrong, and you might have made me lose my job."
Unconsciously her slightly husky contralto voice had sunk lower and trembled audibly.
"I'm awfully sorry. I shan't touch your files again, Miss Crain."
"Oh--go on and call me Penny," she conceded impatiently. "What do you want now?... And you can get anything you need out of the files if you'll just put the folder in the bottom drawer of my desk, so that I can file it myself--correctly!"
"Thank you, Penny," Bonnie Dundee said gravely. "I'd like awfully to have the complete tr