ng the mouthpiece--"and
if he thinks that he can work off a lot of last year's silk
swatches on--Hello! Yes, Mrs. McChesney talking. Look here, Mr.
Baumgartner--"

And for the time being Emma McChesney, mother, was relegated to
the background, while Emma McChesney, secretary of the T.A. Buck
Featherloom Petticoat Company, held the stage.

Having said that she would be home at five-thirty. Mrs. McChesney
was home at five-thirty, being that kind of a person. Jock came
in at six, breathless, bright-eyed, eager, and late, being that
kind of a person.

He found his mother on the floor before the chiffonier in his
bedroom, surrounded by piles of pajamas, socks, shirts and
collars.

[Illustration: "He found his mother on the floor ... surrounded
by piles of pajamas, socks, shirts and collars"]

He swooped down upon her from the doorway. "What do you think of
your blue-eyed boy! Poor, eh?"

Emma McChesney looked up absently. "Jock, these medium-weights of
yours didn't wear at all, and you paid five dollars for them."

"Medium-weights! What in--"

"You've enough silk socks to last you the rest of your natural
life. Handkerchiefs, too. But you'll need pajamas."

Jock stooped, gathered up an armful of miscellaneous undergarments
and tossed them into an open drawer. Then he shut the drawer with
a bang, reached over, grasped his mother firmly under the arms and
brought her to her feet with a swing.

"We will now consider the question of summer underwear ended.
Would it bore you too much to touch lightly on the subject of your
son's future?"

Emma McChesney, tall, straight, handsome, looked up at her son,
taller, straighter, handsomer. Then she took him by the coat
lapels and hugged him.

"You were so bursting with your own glory that I couldn't resist
teasing you. Besides, I had to do something to keep my mind
off--off--"

"Why, Blonde dear, you're not--!"

"No, I'm not," gulped Emma McChesney. "Don't flatter yourself,
young 'un. Tell me just how it happened. From the beginning." She
perched at the side of the bed. Jock, hands in pockets, hair a
little rumpled, paced excitedly up and down before her as he
talked.

"There wasn't any beginning. That's the stunning part of it. I
just landed right into the middle of it with both feet. I knew
they had been planning to start a big Western branch. But we all
thought they'd pick some big man for it. There are plenty of
medium-class dubs to be had. The kind that a