“At last,” breathed Teddy Burke, with an impatient twitch of his head. “You go first, Harry.”
Harry stepped rather diffidently forward and over the threshold of Mr. Keene’s office, Teddy following closely at his heels. The only occupant of the room, the man at the desk, looked up from a letter he was reading as the boys entered. His shrewd, dark eyes took in his callers at one sweeping glance. “Well, boys,” he began in quick, business-like tones, “what can I do for you?”
“We came to see about getting work, sir.” Harry found himself answering in the same business-like tones of the superintendent.
“How old are you?”
“I am sixteen.”
“And how old are you?” He turned to Teddy.
“Fifteen, sir.”
“Have you a certificate?”
“Yes, sir.”