“He’s pretty smart. He looked at our names when we handed him our slips and he knew right away which of us was which,” went on Teddy.
“What he don’t know about boys ain’t worth knowing. The fellows here all think he’s the candy kid. Mr. Keene’s pretty good to us, but there’s only one Mr. Marsh.”
“What is his position?” asked Harry, curiously.
“Oh, he’s Mr. Keene’s assistant, but he does most of the lookin’ after the boys.”
“Is the house furnishings department a nice place to work?” asked Teddy, abruptly.
“Not for mine,” was the slangy retort. “I wouldn’t call hustling pans and kettles a cinch. Still, it’s better than workin’ for old Piggy Barton at Number 10. Say, I’ll bet that old crab just hates himself.”
“What does this Mr. Barton do?” queried Harry apprehensively.
“He’s the meanest aisle manager in the store. You want to watch yourself or you’ll get ten demerits in about ten minutes. Every boy that works for him gets fired. It ain’t always the fellow’s fault, either. I know of two fellows he canned, all right enough.”
Teddy grinned at the slang expression “canned.” It happened to be new to him. He had a vision of the two helpless messengers being forcibly bottled, and the humor of the idea appealed to him immensely. Harry’s face had fallen a trifle. Just when he had built up high ideals of his future usefulness in the store it was rather discouraging to know that he must begin his work under such a disagreeable person.