At three-thirty, the time when it seems to office persons that the day’s work never will end, even by a miracle, Mr. Wrenn was shaky about his duty to the firm.  He was more so after an electrical interview with the manager, who spent a few minutes, which he happened to have free, in roaring “I want to know why” at Mr. Wrenn.  There was no particular “why” that he wanted to know; he was merely getting scientific efficiency out of employees, a phrase which Mr. Guilfogle had taken from a business magazine that dilutes efficiency theories for inefficient employers.

At five-twenty the manager summoned him, complimented him on nothing in particular, and suggested that he stay late with Charley Carpenter and the stock-keeper to inventory a line of desk-clocks which they were closing out.

As Mr. Wrenn returned to his desk he stopped at a window on the corridor and coveted the bright late afternoon.  The cornices of lofty buildings glistened; the sunset shone fierily through the glass-inclosed layer-like upper floors.  He wanted to be out there in the streets with the shopping crowds.  Old Goglefogle didn’t consider him; why should he consider the firm?

CHAPTER II

HE WALKS WITH MISS THERESA

As he left the Souvenir Company building after working late at taking inventory and roamed down toward Fourteenth Street, Mr. Wrenn felt forlornly aimless.  The worst of it all was that he could not go to the Nickelorion for moving pictures; not after having been cut by the ticket-taker.  Then, there before him was the glaring sign of the Nickelorion tempting him; a bill with “Great Train Robbery Film Tonight” made his heart thump like stair-climbing—­and he dashed at the ticket-booth with a nickel doughtily extended.  He felt queer about the scalp as the cashier girl slid out a coupon.  Why did she seem to be watching him so closely?  As he dropped the ticket in the chopper he tried to glance away from the Brass-button Man.  For one-nineteenth of a second he kept his head turned.  It turned back of itself; he stared full at the man, half bowed—­and received a hearty absent-minded nod and a “Fine evenin’.”  He sang to himself a monotonous song of great joy.  When he stumbled over the feet of a large German in getting to a seat, he apologized as though he were accustomed to laugh easily with many friends.

The train-robbery film was—­well, he kept repeating “Gee!” to himself pantingly.  How the masked men did sneak, simply sneak and sneak, behind the bushes!  Mr. Wrenn shrank as one of them leered out of the picture at him.  How gallantly the train dashed toward the robbers, to the spirit-stirring roll of the snare-drum.  The rush from the bushes followed; the battle with detectives concealed in the express-car.  Mr. Wrenn was standing sturdily and shooting coolly with the slender hawk-faced Pinkerton man in puttees; with him he leaped to horse and followed the robbers through the forest.  He stayed through the whole program twice to see the train robbery again.