“Oh, I will; indeed I will—”
“Did he spring any of this fairy tale just now?”
“Well, kind of. Say, thanks, I’m awful obliged to—”
“Say, for the love of Mike, don’t let him know I told you.”
“No, no, I sure won’t.”
They parted. Eager though he was for the great moment of again seeing his comrade, Charley Carpenter, Mr. Wrenn dribbled toward the bookkeeping-room mournfully, planning to tell Charley of Guilfogle’s wickedness.
The head bookkeeper shook his head at Mr. Wrenn’s inquiry:
“Charley ain’t here any longer.”
“Ain’t here?”
“No. He got through. He got to boozing pretty bad, and one morning about three weeks ago, when he had a pretty bad hang-over, he told Guilfogle what he thought of him, so of course Guilfogle fired him.”