“Billy,” the visitor was saying, “where did you get that new office boy? He’s a peach. He was as courteous to me as though I were his rich uncle. And he’s very intelligent. He understood at once why I was here. When he found you could not see me right away, he came out and expressed regret at the delay and handed me a magazine to read while I waited. Then he went on about his work just as quietly and industriously as could be. Wasn’t a bit fresh. Didn’t try to pick up a conversation with me or anything. But he kept his eye on you, and the instant you were free, he stepped to the doorway and waited for your orders. Then he brought me in to you. And he didn’t say, ‘Mr. King will see you now.’ Instead he said, ‘Won’t you please step in. Mr. King is free now.’ He opened the gate and escorted me in himself, giving my name to you as I entered. He’s a peach. I’m minded to steal him from you.”
That was all Willie overheard. It was enough. It set him to thinking. Evidently the man appreciated the fact that Willie had tried to make him comfortable. If he had not over-heard this conversation, Willie would never have given a thought to the occurrence. He had not made any special effort to be nice to the man. It was natural for Willie to treat people kindly. He had been brought up that way.
Now Willie reviewed the entire occurrence in his mind. He tried to remember every word and act of his. When he had thought it all over, he said to himself very soberly, “Of course that man liked to be treated politely. I know how it makes a fellow feel when a fresh office boy barks out ‘Whatcha want?’ as that guy did who held this job before me. Anybody would like to be treated politely. And it pleased him that I handed him a magazine. I don’t know why I did that. Just happened to, I guess. But he thought I was trying to make him comfortable. I’ll remember that. If it makes a man feel like giving a fellow a job in his own office, it’s a trick worth remembering. In future I’ll make a real effort to make everybody comfortable. Mr. King said he didn’t always promote boys when he got rid of them, and some day something might happen and I’d be glad of a chance at another job.”
Poor Willie! Much sooner than he would have believed possible, he was wondering very seriously if he could find another job.
He thought the matter over a bit further and a new idea came to him. “Why, I believe that’s one of the best ways to keep the job I’ve already got,” muttered Willie. “I could see that that man went into Mr. King’s office feeling mighty good about something, though I never dreamed I had anything to do with it. Mr. King can put through a whole lot more work in an hour if he deals with people that feel good than he could if he had to talk to a lot of soreheads. That’s a cinch. Why, if I could keep callers all jollied up so they feel good-natured, it ought to make things easier for Mr. King.”
A minute later Willie chuckled. “That’s one thing I tumbled to, myself,” he muttered, “without being shown by my predecessor.” Then he laughed good-naturedly at the recollection of the spittoons he had tried to clean. “I sure was a greeny,” he said. “But the affair didn’t hurt me a bit. So I have no call to feel sore at the other office boy. I’ll just forget him.”
That was easier to say than to do, however, for every day or so Willie met the fellow somewhere. Always the older lad tried to bully Willie. If they met in a corridor, he would walk in the middle of the way and roughly crowd Willie to one side. He nicknamed Willie Peanut. If there was no one around to hear him, he called Willie names and swore at him. So far, Willie had never met the fellow outside of the Custom-house. He had no doubt that the boy would handle him roughly if they did meet on the street, for Smith—that was the bully’s name, Tom Smith—had threatened him with a good whipping the first time he caught him alone. So Willie resolved to keep his eyes open when he was on the street.
It really was not difficult to avoid the bully, however, for there was slight chance of their meeting except in the Custom-house. The Smith boy lived up-town and ducked into the subway the minute the clock struck five. Willie, on the other hand, came to work early and left late. He had found a boarding-house very near at hand. It was close to the Armenian quarter, and was not five minutes’ walk from the Custom-house. It was not at all the sort of home he would want to live in permanently, but it would answer very well for the present. An Irish tugboat man and his wife named McMichael had a room to rent, and Willie engaged it. The Irishman and his wife were rough, but very kind-hearted, and they were honest. The woman had lost her only son, and she took a great liking to Willie. So he fortunately had a place that was clean and convenient, and he received the best of treatment.
It puzzled Willie, too, to know how he was going to install his wireless. The house in which he lived was close to the elevated railway. Willie knew that the powerful electric currents in the third rail would affect his communication badly. Furthermore, high buildings arose on every hand. So far as wireless communication was concerned, Willie was like a man down in a well. He was walled in on all sides. Besides, there was no really good place to string up an aerial. So Willie postponed the installation of his wireless system.
The question was settled for him, however, in a way that was unexpected to Willie. Although Uncle Sam had agents created expressly to prevent infractions of the prohibition laws, the Special Agent of the Treasury was also charged with the duty of preventing the unlawful entry of liquor into the country.