CHAPTER VI
A BALANCE FOR THE BOSS
You see, I was openin' the mornin' mail. Hope you get that part. Not that I want to seem chesty over it. Just goes to show, that's all. For, of the whole force here at the General offices, there's just three of us can carve up the mornin' mail without gettin' fired for it. And the other two are Old Hickory and Mr. Robert.
H-m-m-m! Business of lookin' important. That's what it is to be a private sec. But, between you and me, this slicin' and sortin' envelopes ain't such thrillin' work; mostly routine stuff—reports of department heads, daily statements from brokers, and so on. Now and then, though, you run across something rich. This was one of the times.
I was 'most through the pile when I comes to this pale pink affair with a heavy wax seal on the back. Perfumed, too, like lilacs. First off I thought it must be private, and I held the letter stabber in the air while I took a closer look. No. It's addressed just to the Corrugated Trust. So rip she goes. After I'd read it through twice I grins and puts it one side. When Mr. Robert blows in I hands the pink one to him first.
"We're discovered," says I. "Here's someone that hints polite how we're a bunch of strong-arms organized to rob the widow and orphan of their daily bread."
Mr. Robert takes one sniff, then holds it at arm's length while he runs it through. Gets a chuckle out of him, too.
"It's rather evident," says he, "that Mrs. Theodore Bayly Bagstock doesn't approve of us at all—though just why is not quite clear."
"That's easy," says I. "This Inter-Lake Navigation that she's beefin' about was one of them little concerns we gathered in last fall. Paid something like fourteen, and our common at three and a half don't seem so good to her, I expect. Still, she got a double on her holdings by the deal, and with the melon we're goin' to cut next month—"