"So you're Swinton, Scudder and Davis, are you?" he said to Colfax on introduction. "That trinity must have shrunk some to get condensed into you, but I suppose the power is all there."
"I don't know about that! I don't know about that!" exclaimed Colfax electrically. He was always ready like a greyhound to run another a race. "They tell me Swinton and Scudder were exceptionally big men. If you have as much force as you have length there's nothing the matter with you, though."
"Oh, I'm all right," said Eugene, "when I'm by myself. These little men worry me, though. They are so darned smart."
Colfax cackled ecstatically. He liked Eugene's looks. The latter's manner, easy and not in any way nervous or irritable but coupled with a heavenly alertness of eye, took his fancy. It was a fit companion for his own terrific energy, and it was not unduly soft or yielding.
"So you're the advertising manager of the North American. How'd they ever come to tie you down to that?"
"They didn't tie me," said Eugene. "I just lay down. But they put a nice fat salary on top of me to keep me there. I wouldn't lie down for anything except a salary."
He grinned smartly.
Colfax cackled.
"Well, my boy, it doesn't seem to be hurting your ribs, does it? They've not caved in yet. Ha! Ha!—Ha! Ha! They've not, have they? Ha! Ha!"
Eugene studied this little man with great interest. He was taken by his sharp, fierce, examining eye. He was so different from Kalvin, who was about his size, but so much more quiet, peaceful, dignified. Colfax was electric, noisy, insistent, like a pert jack-in-the-box; he seemed to be nothing but energy. Eugene thought of him as having an electric body coated over with some thin veneer of skin. He seemed as direct as a flash of lightning.