“Sure!  You can just bet your bottom dollar I let him see from the way I looked at him that I wasn’t going to stand for no more monkey business.  You bet I did!...  I’ll fix him, I will.  You just watch me. (Hey, Drubel, got any lemon merang?  Bring me a hunk, will yuh?) Why, Wrenn, that cross-eyed double-jointed fat old slob, I’ll slam him in the slats so hard some day—­I will, you just watch my smoke.  If it wasn’t for that messy wife of mine—­I ought to desert her, and I will some day, and—­”

“Yuh.”  Mr. Wrenn was curt for a second....  “I know how it is, Charley.  But you’ll get over it, honest you will.  Say, I’ve got some news.  Some land that my dad left me has sold for nearly a thousand plunks.  By the way, this lunch is on me.  Let me pay for it, Charley.”

Charley promised to let him pay, quite readily.  And, expanding, said: 

“Great, Wrenn!  Great!  Lemme congratulate you.  Don’t know anybody I’d rather’ve had this happen to.  You’re a meek little baa-lamb, but you’ve got lots of stuff in you, old Wrennski.  Oh say, by the way, could. you let me have fifty cents till Saturday?  Thanks.  I’ll pay it back sure.  By golly! you’re the only man around the office that ’preciates what a double duck-lined old fiend old Goglefogle is, the old—­”

“Aw, gee, Charley, I wish you wouldn’t jump on Guilfogle so hard.  He’s always treated me square.”

“Gogie—­square?  Yuh, he’s square just like a hoop.  You know it, too, Wrenn.  Now that you’ve got enough money so’s you don’t need to be scared about the job you’ll realize it, and you’ll want to soak him, same’s I do. Say!” The impulse of a great idea made him gleefully shake his fist sidewise.  “Say!  Why don’t you soak him?  They bank on you at the Souvenir Company.  Darn’ sight more than you realize, lemme tell you.  Why, you do about half the stock-keeper’s work, sides your own.  Tell you what you do.  You go to old Goglefogle and tell him you want a raise to twenty-five, and want it right now.  Yes, by golly, thirty! You’re worth that, or pretty darn’ near it, but ’course old Goglefogle’ll never give it to you.  He’ll threaten to fire you if you say a thing more about it.  You can tell him to go ahead, and then where’ll he be?  Guess that’ll call his bluff some!”

“Yes, but, Charley, then if Guilfogle feels he can’t pay me that much—­you know he’s responsible to the directors; he can’t do everything he wants to—­why, he’ll just have to fire me, after I’ve talked to him like that, whether he wants to or not.  And that’d leave us—­that’d leave them—­without a sales clerk, right in the busy season.”

“Why, sure, Wrenn; that’s what we want to do.  If you go it ’d leave ’em without just about two men.  Bother ’em like the deuce.  It ’d bother Mr. Mortimer X. Y. Guglefugle most of all, thank the Lord.  He wouldn’t know where he was at—­trying to break in a man right in the busy season.  Here’s your chance.  Come on, kid; don’t pass it up.”