“You mean a big room with tables and chairs where the men could go and eat their lunch, Father?”
“Something of the sort. Perhaps there could be magazines and books there, too.”
“Hurrah! It’s a splendid plan. When will you do it, Father?” cried Peter.
“I didn’t say I was going to do it at all. I merely asked you to find out your friend Strong’s opinion. Do you know, some of Strong’s ideas are not so bad. Ask him if a room such as I describe would be as satisfactory to him as the packing-box lunch room from which he and his friend Jackson were to-day ejected.”
“Of course Strong will like it!”
“I think I will give the orders, then. That vacant floor may as well be used for this purpose as any other. We shall not want it at present, and if we ever need more room we must devise some other way. I’ve a fancy, somehow, to call the new venture the Strong Reading-Room.”
Peter started to speak.
“Purely as a joke, you know,” went on Mr. Coddington, waving his hand. “Just as a reminder to Strong how very near he came to losing his position.”
Mr. Coddington glanced up humorously; then he chuckled and so did Peter.