On the following morning he went down to the iron works as usual. As early as it was he found Amos Bangs ahead of him, and sorting out some papers at one of the desks.
"Morning," said Amos Bangs, curtly.
"Good-morning," answered Mr. Bartlett. "Mr. Bangs, what are you doing at this desk?"
"Sorting out things."
"Do you not know that this is my private desk?"
"Is it? I thought it belonged to the iron company," answered Amos Bangs with a sneer.
"The desk does belong to the company, but at present it contains my private papers as well as some papers of the company."
"Well, it is going to be my desk after this, I'll thank you to take your personal things away."
"You seem to be in a hurry to get me out."
"I want to get to work here. Things have dragged long enough. I am going to make them hum."