“Of course! How are you?” Mr. Latham shook hands heartily. “Let me see, did you tell me your name?”
“No, sir. My name’s Willard Morris.”
“Well, Morris, what can I do for you? Here, let’s sit down a minute. Now then!”
“We want to be allowed to stand our automobile at the station, sir. You see, as it is now, they won’t let us because Connors, the livery stable man, has the—the exclusive privilege. It’s hard to get passengers, Mr. Latham, unless you’re at the platform. Folks don’t see you, sir.”
“I suppose not. What’s this?”
“It’s a petition. It’s got fifty-five signatures on it, sir. I thought maybe——”
“Very business-like, Morris.” Mr. Latham smiled as he ran his eyes over the petition. “Well, you’d better see Cummings about this. He’s the one to go to.”
“That’s what I came here for, sir, but they said he was too busy and wanted me to leave this.”
“Oh, I guess he’s got time to see you. You come with me.” Mr. Latham led the way past the counter and knocked again at the inner door. “Charlie, here’s a young gentleman who wants to see you,” announced the First Vice-President as, followed by Willard, he entered and closed the door again. “He’s got a petition signed by about half the citizens of Audelsville. See what you can do for him, will you? Morris, this is Mr. Cummings. Charlie, shake hands with Mr. Willard Morris, one of Audelsville’s hustling citizens.”
The big man at the big desk smiled and shook hands. “Glad to do anything I can for you, Mr. Morris,” he said. “What’s wanted?”