The Washington herald., 1915-08-22

OF hun1or dies hard.
Il have letter from him, asking
me to CALL" said Jock, to clinch it.
This way" The keeper of the door
led Jock toward the sacred inner por-
tai and held it open. Mr.. Hupp's is
the last door to the right"
The door closed behind him. Jock
found himself in the big, busy, light
flooded central office Down either
! side Of the great room ran row OF
tiny private Offices, each partitioned
off, each QUILTED with desk, and
! chairs, and big, bright window. On
his way to the last door at the right
! Jock glanced into each tiny Office,
glimpsing busy Inen bent absorbedly
over papers, girls busy with dictation.
here and there a door revealing two
men, or three, deep in discussion of
a problem, heads close together, voices
low, faces earnest. 1t came suddenly
to the smartly modish. overconfdent
boy walking the length of the long
room that the last person needed in
this marvelously perfected and
/ smoothrunning organization was a
somewhat awed young man named
| Jock McChesney. There came to him
that strange sensation which comes to
/ every job-hunter; that feeling of hav-
! ing his spiritual legs carry him out of
! the room, past the door, down the
I hall and into the street, even as, in
reality, they bore him on to the very
presence which he dreaded and yet
! wished to sec.
Two steps more, and he stood in
the last doorway, right. No matinee
, idol. nervously awaiting his cue in
the wings. could have planned his en-
| trance more carefully than Jock had
planned this. Ease was the thing;
ease, bordering on nonchalance, mix
ed with brisk and businesslike as
! surance.
The entrance was lost on the man
! at the desk. He did not even look up.
| II Jock had entered on all-fours, doing
a double tango to vocal accompani-
ment, it is doubtful if the man at the
desk would have looked up. Pencil
between his fingers, head held trifle
to one side in critical contemplation
OF the work before him, eyes narrow
ed judicially, lips pursed, he was the
concentrated essence OF do-it-now.
Jock waited moment, in silence
The man at the desk worked on. His
head was semi-bald. Jock knew him
to be thirty. Jock fixed his eye on the
semi-bald spot and spoke.
my names McChesney," he be-
gan. Il wrote you three days ago; you
probably will remember. You replied,
asking ME to call, and L"
Minute" exploded the man at the
desk, still absorbed
Jock faltered, stopped. The man at
the desk did not look up. A moment
OF silence, except for the sound of
the busy pencil travelling across the
paper. Jock, glazing at the semi-bald
spot, spoke again.
"Of course, Mr.. Hupp, if you're too
| busy to see me"
"H-m-m-m," preoccupied, hum
such as a busy man makes when he
is trying to give attention to two in
| terests.
G. why I suppose there's no sense
in staying; but it seems to me that
! common courtesy"
The busy pencil paused. quivered in
the making OF final period, enclosed
the dot in a proofreader's circle, and
rolled away across the desk, its work
done
Now" said Sam Hupp, and swung
around, smiling, to face the affronted
Jock 81 had to get that out. They're
waiting for it" He pressed a desk
button What can I do for you. Sit
down, sit down"
HClC was d Ncl ldIl dul upl SCllldllly
about him. His PREDETERMINED
glasses gave him an oddly owlish
look, like a small boy taking liber-
ties with grandfather's spectacles.
Jock found himself sitting down,
his anger slipping from him.
my names McChesney." he be-
gan. I'm here because l want to
work for this concern" He braced
himself to present the convincing
reason-why arguments with which he
had prepared himself.
Whereupon Sam Hupp, the brisk.
proceeded to whisk his breath and ar
guments away with an unexpected:
"All right. What do you want to
do."
Jocks mouth fell open. doll" he