“You know, Arthur, that I have no wish to control, except for the mutual good. Great heaven, Arthur! You are ruining us!” cried Gus, aggravated into speaking his mind.
Arthur looked moodily down, and like a child caught in some misdemeanor, grumbled out: “Any person is liable to make a mistake.”
Gus looked at him curiously: “I’ve a great notion to pull out; I do not propose getting caught under the wreck when the crash comes,” said he angrily.
“Oh, well, get some one to do the work in my place, if you feel so terribly worried,” quite as angrily retorted Arthur.
A couple of weeks later Gus did put another man into the office; Arthur seemed rather relieved than otherwise.
Gus was talking to Edith a few days later; they had been speaking of Arthur, and incidentally of Wilbur the new man:
“He seems to understand his business; he has a way of going at it, as though he had been in that office all his life; actually, as he sank into that big, green chair, he sighed with satisfaction.”
“Tell me how he looks,” said Edith.
“Oh, tall and muscular; his hair is as black as the proverbial crow’s wing; the most piercing black eyes that I ever saw; his looks are rather fierce and brigandish, but his manner is most gentle and courteous; his voice is very sweet, the words and tones of a cultured man.”
“You make me very curious to see him,” answered Edith.