But here was a new John, nevertheless, a
successful man of affairs. He had on a spruce new suit of brown, no cheap
ready-made affair but one carefully fitted to conceal and soften his
deformity. He was wearing a bright blue tie and a cornflower in his
buttonhole, and his sandy hair was sleekly brushed. He showed Roger into
his private room, a small place he had partitioned off, where over his desk
was a motto in gold: "This is no place for your troubles or mine."
"Lord, but you've got yourself fixed up fine in here," said Roger. John
smiled broadly. "And you're looking like a new man, Johnny."
"I had a great time at the seashore. Learned to sail a boat alone. What do
you think of this chair of mine?" And John complacently displayed the
ingenious contrivance in front of his desk, somewhat like a bicycle seat.
It was made of steel and leather pads.
"Wonderful," said Roger. "Where'd you ever pick it up?"
"I had it made," was the grave reply. "When a fellow has got up in life
enough to have a stenographer, it's high time he was sitting down."
"Let's see you do it." John sat down. "Now how is business?" Roger asked.
"Great. Since the little slump we had in August it has taken a new
start--and not only war business, at that--the old people are sending in
orders again. I tell you what it is, Mr. Gale, this country is right on the
edge of a boom!"
And the junior member of the firm tilted triumphantly back in his chair.
Pages:
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338