no time. After that it looked like plain
sailing. We got along wonderfully. When I left I said, 'I expect
to know you both better--'"

"I guess," interrupted the Old Man slowly, "that you'll know them
better all right." He reached out with one broad freckled hand
and turned back the page of a desk memorandum. "The Athena account
was given to the Dowd Advertising Agency yesterday."

It took Jock McChesney one minute--one long, sickening minute--to
grasp the full meaning of it all. He stared at the massive figure
before him, his mouth ludicrously open, his eyes round, his breath
for the moment suspended. Then, in a queer husky voice:

"D'you mean--the Dowd--but--they couldn't--"

"I mean," said Bartholomew Berg, "that you've scored what the
dramatic critics call a personal hit; but that doesn't get the box
office anything."

"But, Mr. Berg, they said--"

"Sit down a minute, boy." He waved one great heavy hand toward a
near-by chair. His eyes were not fixed on Jock. They gazed out of
the window toward the great white tower toward which hundreds of
thousands of eyes were turned daily--the tower, four-faced but
faithful.

"McChesney, do you know why you fell down on that Athena account?"

"Because I'm an idiot," blurted Jock. "Because I'm a
double-barreled, corn-fed, hand-picked chump and--"

"That's one reason," drawled the Old Man grimly. "But it's not the
chief one. The real reason why you didn't land that account was
because you're too darned charming."

"Charming!" Jock stared.

"Just that. Personality's one of the biggest factors in business
to-day. But there are some men who are so likable that it actually
counts against them. The client he's trying to convince is so
taken with him that he actually forgets the business he
represents. We say of a man like that that he is personality plus.
Personality is like electricity, McChesney. It's got to be tamed
to be useful."

"But I thought," said Jock, miserably, "that the idea was not to
talk business all the time."

"You've got it," agreed Berg. "But you must think it all the time.
Every minute. It's got to be working away in the back of your
head. You know it isn't always the biggest noise that gets the
biggest result. The great American hen yields a bigger income than
the Steel Trust. Look at Miss Galt. When we have a job that needs
a woman's eye do we send her? No. Why? Because she's too blame
charming. Too much personality. A man just naturally refuse