“What are you doing now?—counting money or running the elevator?”
“Tease me some more! Say, Nan, I’m not kidding you. The boss made a new job for me; I’m sales manager—going to start out with a suit-case next week and shake hands with all our customers, just to get in touch. Not to interfere with our regular salesmen; oh, no! Just asking about the babies down the line and making the lowly retailer feel that we live only to please him. Do you get me?”
“A gleam or two. So Mr. Copeland got out of his troubles, did he? Well, I’m glad to hear it. He’s too good a fellow to go to the bad.”
This was spoken carelessly, but with a note of sincerity. Her world had turned upside-down since her last meeting with Billy. She waited for Jerry to enlighten her further.
“He’s all right now; you can bet on that; he’s not going to fool with his luck any more. It’s funny”—he was finding it difficult to conceal his embarrassment in speaking of Copeland to Nan—“but the boss and Cecil are getting chummy. When the pinch came, Cecil was right there; walked on to the scaffold and saved him after the black cap had been pulled on and tied under his chin. This is marked private—I don’t know anything—not a thing!”
Nan nodded. She did not see very clearly what he was driving at, but she refused to ask questions.
“The boss and Cecil are lunching together every day now, and they spend an hour together. That tickles me,” he ended softly. “I always wished they’d hit it off together.”
He glanced at her for her approval of this new combination, which was hardly more surprising than his own manifestation of feeling. He evidently derived the deepest satisfaction from the new intimacy between Eaton and Copeland. The fleeting tenderness and wistfulness in his candid, humorous eyes touched her.
“Well!” he exclaimed cheerily, as the driver announced that the wagon was ready, “do you fly back to the farm, or will you join me in refreshments at a one-arm sandwichorium? I’ve only got twenty minutes.”
“I’ll fool you by accepting,” she laughed. “I have some errands to do and can just about catch the three o’clock interurban.”