“I am Three-Dollar-a-Day-Wesblock,” I said; “told to report here to-day, and here I am.”
Light broke upon Mr. Gobble and he laughed loudly at a point I did not see, but I joined his laugh.
“You will go into the office of Mercenary Dispensations,” said Gobble. “You will like the Chief Dispenser, Mr. Kingdom. I will present you to him now, if you will come with me.” He rose and I followed him to Mr. Kingdom’s office. It was a small place which had not been thoroughly cleaned for a long time. Everything in the room was old-fashioned and dingy. A litter of papers was strewn in every direction; papers were piled on a little counter that stood before the door, on the chairs in bundles, on the floor in a corner, and in huge heterogeneous stacks upon an ancient desk. Before this object sat a sad-eyed, prematurely decayed and old-fashioned man, who rose as we entered. “Mr. Kingdom,” said the Deputy, “this is Mr. Wesblock, your newly appointed clerk.”
“Ah!” sighed Mr. Kingdom, and he busied himself clearing a chair for me to sit upon. “Sit down, Mr. Wesblock,” and he smiled upon me sadly.
“I will leave Mr. Wesblock with you,” said the Deputy to Mr. Kingdom, and to me, “Good-morning, Mr. Wesblock,” and he left the room.
Mr. Kingdom mildly and tentatively cross-examined me, and I gave a short account of myself. His manner said nearly as plainly as words, “God knows what I am going to do with you.”
I have excellent sight, and while we talked I noted a piece of paper before Mr. Kingdom upon which was type-written a long column of figures. Some one had evidently just added this column and the total was written in blue pencil on a pad before me. These little things were of no particular interest to me, but I idly noted them for want of better occupation.
“Just add this column for me, Mr. Wesblock,” said Mr. Kingdom, and he pushed towards me the paper I had noticed. Whether he thought I looked as if I could not do simple addition, or not, I do not know. Carefully noting the total I had already observed in blue pencil, which was still nearly under my nose, I gave him an exhibition of lightning addition, which seemed to enthuse him to mild satisfaction. We were each satisfied with ourselves; he, that he had a clerk who could read, write, and add; I, that I had a chief with whom any one could get along without half trying, and I intended to try.
“I will now take you to Father Steve,” said Mr. Kingdom, “whom you will assist.” We went into the adjoining room, which was very much like Mr. Kingdom’s, with the exception that it was inhabited by two ancients instead of one.
I was presented to Father Steve and Mr. Ernest, the two ancients. Father Steve was a little old man with white whiskers. He wore spectacles far down on his nose, and glared at me with two fiery eyes, as if he were indignant at some affront I had put upon him. Ernest was a younger man, handsome, intelligent looking, but seedy. I judged by the expectant smile on Ernest’s face that Father Steve was in some way amusing him at my expense. Mr. Kingdom left the room, and Father Steve walked coolly over to me, where I stood in the middle of the room near a high desk. He walked around me very much as one dog walks around another before the fight begins. Then he posted himself before me, and looking into my face most impertinently said, “What the devil are you going to do here?” I saw now that the old buffer was a little bit of all right, and that he was acting for his pal Ernest. “I am going to assist you, Mr. Steve,” I said.