“The second shipping-clerk left week before last.”
“You don’t want that?”
“I think I do.”
Simeon turned vaguely toward the pigeonholes. The boy’s quick eye was before him. “This is the one, sir.”
Simeon smiled grimly. He drew out a blank from its place and filled it in. “You won’t like it,” he said, holding the pen in his teeth while he reached for the blotter. “It ’s heavy lifting, and Simpson ’s no angel to work under. No chance to rise, either.” He was glaring at the boy, a kind of desperate affection growing in his eyes..
The boy returned the look mistily. “You make it a little hard, sir. I wish I could stay.” He half held out his hand and drew it back.
Simeon ignored it. He had taken down a ledger and picked a letter from the pile before him. The interview was over. The President of the “R. and Q.” Railroad was not hanging on anybody’s neck.
“It ’s the other ledger, sir,” said John quickly, “the farther one.” He reached over and laid it deftly before his employer.
Simeon pushed it from him savagely. “Go to the devil!” he said.
The boy went, shutting the door quietly behind him.