"Not so long as I thought. You are satisfied, I take it?"
Quin saw his chance and seized it.
"It's all right until I can get something better."
Mr. Bangs relit his cigar, and took his time about it. Then he blew out the match and threw it on the floor.
"I am looking for a new traffic manager," he said.
"What's the matter with Mr. Shields?" Quin inquired in amazement.
"I have fired him. He talks too much. I want a man to manage traffic, not to superintend a Sunday-school."
"But Mr. Shields has been there for years!"
"That's the trouble. I want a younger man—one who is abreast of the times, familiar with modern methods."
Quin's heart leaped within him. Could Mr. Bangs be intimating that he, Quinby Graham, with one year and four months' experience, might step over the heads of all of those older and more experienced aspirants into the empty shoes of the former traffic manager?