“If Mr. Emberg catches you, Peter, you’ll get fired,” cautioned the other fellow, who had a shock of light hair, blue eyes, and seemed a good-natured sort of chap.
“A heap I care for Emberg,” was Peter Manton’s reply. “I can get another job easy. The Rocket needs a good copy boy. Besides Emberg won’t be here for an hour,” and he began to puff on his cigarette.
Larry advanced further into the room, and, at the sound of his steps, the other boys turned quickly. Peter was the first to speak.
“Hello, kid,” he said rather familiarly, considering Larry was as old and about as large as himself. “What do you want?”
“I’m waiting for Mr. Emberg,” replied Larry.
“Lookin’ for a job?” sneered Peter. “If you are you can fade away. We got all the help we need. What right you got buttin’ in?”
“Mr. Emberg told me to come here and see him,” said Larry quietly, and then he sat down in a chair.
“Look a-here,” began Peter, crossing the room quickly and coming close to Larry, “if you think you can come in here and git a job over my head you’re goin’ to get left. Do you hear?”
Larry thought it best not to answer.
“I’ve a good mind to punch your face,” went on Peter, doubling up his fist. He seemed half inclined to put his threat into execution when the door suddenly opened and Mr. Newton walked into the city room.