“Let’s not bother with the elevator,” he proposed. “That’s the way to the Warren Street side. As soon as we find the stairway we can go straight to Mr. Keene’s office.”
The prospective wage-earners skipped nimbly up the long flights of stairs, bent on reaching their goal as fast as sturdy young leg-power could carry them. After a little inquiry they managed to bring up at their goal. Here they found themselves standing before a large, railed-in space similar to that of the main office on the first floor. On a closed door at the left of this space appeared the magic words, “Mr. Keene.” The two lads brought up at the railing and looked uncertainly about them, not quite sure what their next move would be.
A pretty young woman with curly brown hair and pink cheeks rose from a nearby typewriter desk. “Well, boys?” she interrogated with an encouraging smile.
“We’d like to see Mr. Keene.” As before, Harry was spokesman.
“Sit down there and wait a few minutes.” She pointed to an oak settee. “Mr. Keene is busy with his mail just now. You can see him when he has finished. I will tell him about you when I go into his office for dictation.”
Just then there was a loud buzzing sound. The young woman picked up her notebook and hurried toward the office door marked “Mr. Keene,” leaving two anxious boys to wonder what fortune had in store for them.
[CHAPTER III]
AN ANXIOUS MOMENT
“Mr. Keene will see you. Go in there, boys.” The pretty young woman emerged from an inner office with this welcome announcement. Resuming her seat at her typewriter, she began clicking the keys industriously.