Thursday The Rabbi Walked Out

15

LAWRENCE GORE LOOKED UP INQUIRINGLY AS MOLLY MANdell entered his office.

"I know you don't like me to bother you, but Mr. Jordon—"

"Was he in this morning?" he asked quickly. "Did he—er—try to annoy you again?"

She blushed. "No, he hasn't been in. But the report—"

He held up a finger. "Right, the Ellsworth Jordon quarterly report. It's due today. I haven't forgotten it, as a matter of fact. I spoke to him this morning." He tilted back in his swivel chair. "And he invited me for dinner tonight."

"So he can go over the report with you?"

"I suppose, and he's letting me have his Peter Archer soup tureen."

"So he finally decided to let you borrow it for the exhibition?"

"Oh, I think he was going to all along. It's just his way. But I called him this morning and told him I was taking the collection to the museum tonight and it was now or never. So he said okay, I could pick it up this evening and he invited me to dinner."

"How are you taking it in?" she asked curiously.

"In my beachwagon."

"You going alone?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Because it's very valuable, isn't it?"

"It sure is."

"You ought to have someone with you. You could get into an accident and—"

"You're right. Molly, as usual." He thought for a minute. "I'll ask Billv. Have him come in, will you, Mollv." When the young man appeared, he said. "I'm taking tha Peter Archer silver into Boston, to the museum tonight. How would you like to come along and ride shotgun?"

"Gee, that would be sWell, Shall I meet you at your house? What time?"

"Oh, I'm coming to your house, the old man invited me to dinner. I'm picking up his soup tureen—"

"I knew he was going to let you have it, he had Martha shine it up the other day."

"So it's all set, we'll go back to my place right after dinner, and you can help me load the stuff in the car."

Molly reminded Gore of the Jordon report again at noon, and he said he'd get on it as soon as he returned from lunch. But he met some customers at lunch and it was after two when he got back. When she asked him about it once again, he said. "I’ve been thinking it over. If I bring it with me. I'll have to go over it with him and discuss it item by item. I could be there till midnight. I'll tell him I'm sending it by mail."

"But he is such a stickler for getting his reports on the day they're due, and it's due today."

He grinned impishly at her. "Well, that still gives me until midnight, and if it's dropped in the mail after five it will be too late for the Saturday delivery. So I could drop it off at the post office anytime during the weekend, and he'd still get it Monday."

She looked doubtful, and asked. "Is it something I can do?"

He pinched his lower lip, looking at her speculatively. "You know, as a matter of fact, you can, there's reallv nothing very involved, here, let me show you." He got out the Ellsworth Jordon folder. "These are purchases and these represent sales, mostly stocks, but there are some real estate transactions, too. So you list these together—"

"I had some bookkeeping in high school."

"Believe me, that's good enough, that and your good common sense, all you have to do is list these in one column and these in another. You itemize them, of course, but it's pretty much all spelled out. Just follow the form on the earlier reports and do a good typing job."

She was not nearly finished by closing time, but she offered to work on it at home.

"I hate to ask you to,” he said.

"You're not asking me. I'm volunteering."

"But won't Herb—"

"Herb is running the Brotherhood service at the temple tonight, and I've got to stay home anyway to baby-sit for his mother."

"Then she—"

"She goes right upstairs after dinner, and by eight o'clock she's fast asleep. Really, I don't mind. It will give me something to do."

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind. I'll make it up to you."