"Glad to meet you, Mr. Winthrope," said Mr. Jarney, rising and presenting a warm hand. Mr. Jarney shook the extended hand of John's with such vigor that John came near losing his tight-fitting slippers and his balance in the pulling force of Mr. Jarney's grip.
"I am glad to know you," returned John, recovering his surprise over Mr. Jarney's graciousness.
"Sit down," said Mr. Jarney, releasing John's hand, and motioning him to a deep mahogany chair by his desk. John sat down.
Without removing his eyes from John, Mr. Jarney drew a box of cigars out of the depths of his desk, and, opening it, extended it toward him.
"Have a smoke?" he said, pleasantly.
"Thank you; I do not smoke," answered John, confusedly.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Jarney, as he flapped the lid on the box. As he laid it away he still kept his eyes on his visitor.
John was so uncomfortable in the big chair, and the slippers were pinching him so unmercifully, that he was very miserable. When he leaned backward, he seemed to have fallen to the floor on his back; when he sat up straight, his back pained him; when he leaned forward, he felt awkward.
"Young man," said Mr. Jarney, easily, lighting a cigar, and still keeping his keen eyes on John, "this is an unusual procedure on my part, you will no doubt think."
"I don't know," gasped John.