The boy blushed with pleasure.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Allan’s to take a job here as office-boy,” added Mr. Schofield. “When will you be ready to go to work?”
“Right away, sir.”
“That’s good. I was hoping you’d say that, for there’s a lot of work piled up. The other boy was promoted just the other day, and I’ve been holding the place open. That will be your desk there in the corner, and your principal business for the present will be to see that each official here gets promptly the correspondence addressed to him. That basketful of letters yonder has to be sorted out and delivered. In this tray on my desk I put the messages I want delivered at once. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Allan, and immediately took possession of the pack of envelopes lying in the tray.
He sat down at his desk, with a little glow of pride that it was really his, and sorted the letters. Three were addressed to the master mechanic, three to the company’s freight agent, two to the yardmaster, and five or six more to other officials. As soon as he got them sorted, he put on his hat and started to deliver them.
The trainmaster watched him as he left the office, and then smiled across at the chief-dispatcher.
“Bright boy that,” he commented. “Did you notice—he didn’t ask a single question; just went ahead and did as he was told—and he didn’t have to be told twice, either.”
The chief dispatcher nodded.