A. Fair - Cats Prowl at Night

“But to get back to Sergeant Frank Sellers. He says I bring him luck, and he likes my courage and guts and the way I tear into things. Well, I’m not reaching any decision yet. How am I going, Elsie? Am I going too fast?”

Elsie Brand looked up with awed respect in her eyes. “I’ll say one thing for you, you’re certainly covering lots of territory. You are a fast worker!”

“I meant too fast in my dictation,” Bertha snapped.

“Sorry,” Elsie said, and held her pencil poised over the book. “I’m up with you on the dictation, Mrs. Cool. Go ahead.”

Bertha started to say something, then suddenly checked herself. “And that’s enough,” she snapped. “We’ll leave him something to wonder about so he’ll want to come home before his vacation dough runs out. You might put a P.S. on there, that we’re sharing in the Belder estate on a percentage basis... No, the hell with it. Just tell him that we’re doing all right if the income tax doesn’t break us.”

And Bertha heaved herself to her feet and started for her private office.

“If any clients come in,” she called over her shoulder, “be sure that I see them.”