findin' him; but
if it hadn't been for your old man's buttin' in, that's all the good it
would have done me."

"Ah!" says he. "That explains the mystery. By the way, son, what do they
call you?"

"Guess," says I, and runs me fingers through it. "Just Torchy, and it
suits me as well as Percival or Montgomery."

"Torchy is certainly descriptive," says he. "How long have you been
doing office work?"

"Ever since I could lift a waste basket," says I.

"Are you ambitious?" says he.

"Sure!" says I. "I'm waitin' for some bank president to adopt me."

"You came in here expecting to be discharged, I presume?" says he.

"What, me?" says I. "Nah! I thought you was goin' to ask me over to the
Caffy Martang for lunch."

For a minute or so after that he looks me straight in the eye, and I
gives him the same. And say, for the kind, he ain't so worse. Course, I
wouldn't swap him for Mr. Belmont Pepper, who's the only boss I ever had
that I calls the real thing; but Mr. Robert would get a ratin'
anywhere.

"Torchy," says he after a bit, "I'm inclined to think that you'll do.
Have a chair."

"Don't I get the blue ticket, then?" says I.

"No," says he, "not until you do something worse than obey orders.
Besides you're the cheekiest youth that has ever graced the offices of
the Corrugated Trust, and once in awhile we have use for just such a
quality. For instance, I am tempted to send you on a very important
errand of my own. Wait a moment while I think it over."

"Time out!" says I.

Well say, I didn't know what was comin', he took so long makin' up his
mind. But Mr. Robert ain't one of the kind to go off half cocked. He's
got somethin' on his shoulders besides tailor's paddin', and when he
sets the wheels to movin' you can gamble that he's gettin' somewhere.
After awhile he slaps his knee and says:

"No, there isn't another person around the place who would know how to
go about it. Torchy, I'm going to try you out!"

It wasn't anything like I'd ever been up against before. He hands me an
express receipt and says he wants me to go over to Jersey City and get
what that calls for without landin' in jail.

"You'll see a bundle done up in burlap somewhere around the express
office," says he, "a big bundle. It looks like a side of veal; but it
isn't. It's a deer, one that I shot four days ago up north. Torchy, did
you know that it was illegal to shoot deer during certain months of the
year?"

"You can be pinched for