Stafford seemed to enjoy the young man's discomfiture. Promptly he went on to explain:
"When you first came I figured you were worth five dollars, so I gave you fifty. When I thought you were worth seven dollars and a half, I gave you seventy-five, and when I thought you were really earning ten, I raised it to a hundred!"
Utterly unnerved by this unexpected blow to his pride, completely cowed, the young man stood staring foolishly at the railroad promoter, not daring to raise his voice in protest, completely intimidated by his employer's manner.
"And now," he asked timidly, "you think I'm worth fifteen?"
Stafford broke out into boisterous laughter.
"No, I don't, Jimmie! Oh, no, I don't! I raise you the other fifty because—well—there's a reason!" Coaxingly, he went on: "Jimmie, as a favor—as a favor—promise me you'll never get to be worth twenty-five! The manager of your department gets only two hundred and fifty and I couldn't pay you as much as I pay him, could I?"
"I hoped to be manager of the department some day," spoke up the clerk, regaining some of his self-assurance.
"What's that?"
"I say I hoped to be manager of the department some day—"
Stafford shook his head. With mock solemnity he said: