The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1916-06-18

of humor 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 a row of
tiny private offices, each partitioned
off, each QUILTED with desk, and
chairs, and big, bright window. On
! Jock glanced into each tiny Office,
glimpsing busy men bent absorbedly
over papers, girls busy with dictation,
here and there door revealing two
men, or three, deep in discussion of
problem, heads close together, voices
low, faces earnest. 1t came suddenly
to the smartly modish, overconhdent
boy walking the length of the long
|
this marvelously perfected and
smooth-running 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
hall and into the street, even as, in
reality, they bore him on to the very
presence which he dreaded and yet
wished to see.
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.
: If 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 trihe
= 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.
"a The man at the desk worked on. His
n head was semi-ba1d. Jock knew him
u to be thirty. Jock fixed his eye on The
q semi-bald spot and spoke.
lie my names McChesney," he be
le gan. "I wrote you three days ago; yor
s. probably will remember. You replied
" asking me to call, and /"
IS Minute" exploded the man at tn,
o. desk, still absorbed.
IS Jock faltered, stopped. The man a
ie' the desk did not look up. A momen
of silence, except for the sound o
er the busy pencil travelling across TIL
&c paper. Jock, glarihg at the seni-balc
le spot, spoke again.
II "Of course, Mr.. Hupp, If you're tot
busy to see me-"
Of "H-m-m-m," a preoccupied, hun
nj such as a busy man makes when h
re is trying to give attention to two in
an terests.
X t. why l suppose there's no sens
OF in staying; but it seems to me tina
OK common courtesy"
On The busy pencil paused, quivered i
the making of final period, enclose
a the dot in a proofreader's circle, an
a rolled away across the desk, its wor,
m done.
- Now" said Sam Hupp, and swun
'rn around, smiling, to face the affronte
n Jock. 81 had to get that out. They'r
Ar waiting for it." He pressed des
button. what can do for you? 81
Sc down, sit down"
ie There was a certain abrupt genialit
he about him. His tortoise-rimme
Lc- glasses gave him an oddly OWLS
look. like a small boy taking ibei
ties with grandfather spectacles.
Jock found himself sitting dow
90 his anger slipping from him.
Try my names McChesney," he b.
gan. ''I'm here because I want
an work for this concern" He brace
himself to present the convincin
lie reason-why arguments with which b
of had prepared himself.
Or Whereupon Sam Hupp, the brisl
proceeded to whisk his breath and Al
of guments away with an unexpected:
"All right What do you want
The do2"
AMI Jocks mouth fell open. "DolP
~ 4 3