But if our hero imagined that working a telephone switchboard in the office of a big law firm was going to be as easy as it was to practice with his chum, Tom was grievously disappointed. Soon after he took his seat in front of the board, with its maze of cords, plugs, holes, cams and push buttons, he had a call for one of the partners. There were three members of the firm, which was known officially as Boise, Keen & Cutler. Mr. Boise was the senior member and Elias Cutler the junior.
It was Mr. Keen, a pleasant middle-aged man, who had hired Tom, and he showed the boy how to make the connections to the telephones in the offices of various members of the firm. There were also three clerks, each one of whom had an instrument.
At first, as it was early morning, only a few calls came in, and these Tom easily managed. The lawyers only had occasion to call up outside parties once or twice, and Tom had no difficulty in getting the desired numbers. But, as the day advanced, and more business began to come in on the wire, the boy soon found he had his hands full.
“I guess it isn’t going to be as easy as I thought,” he said to himself, as he placed plug after plug in the holes, and worked the cams and buttons as fast as he could.
About noon some one called for Mr. Boise, and Tom put the plug of the cord in the hole he thought connected with the instrument on the desk of the head of the firm. Then a call came for Mr. Keen, but, while Tom was making that connection the door of Mr. Cutler’s office opened, and that individual fairly rushed out.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked Tom, rather savagely. “Don’t you know enough to operate a switchboard?”
“Why—why—what’s wrong?” asked Tom innocently.
“Why, you’ve put the party who wanted Mr. Boise on my wire, and you spoilt a long distance call I had to Taunton. Now I’ve got to call up again, and maybe I’ll lose my party. Why don’t you make the right connections?”
“I—I thought I did, Mr. Cutler.”
“Well, thinking so isn’t going to mend matters. Now give the party that’s on my wire to Mr. Boise, and then see if you can get central for me. I never saw such a poor operator,” he murmured, as he went back into his office and slammed the door.