"I thought you knew that; I thought that was why you called me in with my route half-covered."
"You mean—?"
"I mean I can't sell your line."
"Why?"
"God only knows. I want to, badly enough. It's just general incompetence, I presume."
"What makes you think that?"
Duncan smiled bitterly. "Experience," he said.
"You've tried—what else?"
"A little of everything—all the jobs open to a man with a knowledge of Latin and Greek and the higher mathematics: shipping clerk, time-keeper, cashier—all of 'em."
"And yet Kellogg believes in you."