Vice-president Force came back a second time and actually pointed him out to an utter stranger, at the same time waving his hand at Mr. Bingle in a most friendly and engaging manner!
The poor bookkeeper reeled on his stool. He laid his pen down, removed the green shade from over his eyes, placed his blotters neatly in the rack, and turning to Jenkins, said:
"I can't stand it, Jenkins. I've—I've just got to know the worst. I'm going to the office."
"With—without being sent for?" gasped Jenkins.
"There's no use putting it off. I—"
A dapper little page appeared at Mr. Bingle's elbow, interrupting him with the curt remark that Mr. Force wanted to see him when it was convenient.
"Convenient?" murmured Mr. Bingle, his eyes bulging.
"Well, great—" began Jenkins.
"That's what he said: convenient," said the page loftily. "Gee, where did you get them ears?"
Mr. Bingle got down from his stool slowly, painfully.