“I didn't mean—exactly that,” floundered Tommy; but Mr. Thompson said, thoughtfully: “You'd better stay with Mr. Grosvenor for a while. Want your salary raised?”
“Not yet. But, Mr. Thompson, I am—”
“So am I!” And with that Mr. Thompson went into the office.
Tommy, determinedly endeavoring not to consider the car his private property, drove it to Mr. Thompson's garage and walked to the Tecumseh Building.
“I am to report to you again, Mr. Grosvenor,” he said to the head of the sales department. “What for?”
“Mr. Thompson's orders.”
Grosvenor looked at Tommy and asked, “Anything else?”
“All he said was that I'd better stay with you for a while.”
“I am glad to have you, my boy. What do you want to do?”
This question would have resembled a sentence from a fairy tale to Tommy if he had not been accustomed to Mr. Thompson's ways. He answered: