retty much, seeing the way times are, but I guess he's worth
it. He's certainly done everything we've expected, and more. He's cut
out for this business."

"What does he say about it? Do you ever hear him say whether he's
satisfied?"

"Oh, he likes it pretty much, I guess. You see him as much as I do."

"Well, we'll make it five hundred. That fellow wouldn't make a bad
partner in this business some day. He has the real knack for it. You see
that he gets the five hundred dollars with a word from both of us."

So the night before Christmas, as Cowperwood was looking over some
way-bills and certificates of consignment preparatory to leaving all in
order for the intervening holiday, George Waterman came to his desk.

"Hard at it," he said, standing under the flaring gaslight and looking
at his brisk employee with great satisfaction.

It was early evening, and the snow was making a speckled pattern through
the windows in front.

"Just a few points before I wind up," smiled Cowperwood.

"My brother and I have been especially pleased with the way you have
handled the work here during the past six months. We wanted to make
some acknowledgment, and we thought about five hundred dollars would be
right. Beginning January first we'll give you a regular salary of thirty
dollars a week."

"I'm certainly much obliged to you," said Frank. "I didn't expect that
much. It's a good deal. I've learned considerable here that I'm glad to
know."

"Oh, don't mention it. We know you've earned it. You can stay with us as
long as you like. We're glad to have you with us."

Cowperwood smiled his hearty, genial smile. He was feeling very
comfortable under this evidence of approval. He looked bright and cheery
in his well-made clothes of English tweed.

On the way home that evening he speculated as to the nature of this
business. He knew he wasn't going to stay there long, even in spite of
this gift and promise of salary. They were grateful, of course; but
why shouldn't they be? He was efficient, he knew that; under him things
moved smoothly. It never occurred to him that he belonged in the realm
of clerkdom. Those people were the kind of beings who ought to work for
him, and who would. There was nothing savage in his attitude, no rage
against fate, no dark fear of failure. These two men he worked for
were already nothing more than characters in his eyes--their
business significated itself. He could see their weaknesses and their
short