said McLaughlin, who had never quite lost his
California vernacular.

"That hair of yours did n't scare him?"

McLaughlin grinned. "I guess it's lost its power." He got up and looked
in the mirror over the mantel. "It _is_ fierce, ain't it? I think I'll
let it grow."

"Don't, Mac. It's your best asset as a bluffer." He shrugged his
shoulders languidly. "You'd look like a philanthropist. They'd _all_ be
asking for a raise!"

"Wonder why he asked just _now_? He does n't know about that new
contract with the Hudson & Erie people, does he?"

"Even if he did, he would n't dare to hold you up on it."

"He _ain't_ that kind, is he?"

"No, Mac, it just occurred to him, that's all--it just occurred to him."
Perkins paused, looked out of the window, then turned. "What do you
think, Mac?"

"We can't start in raising salaries just now, Perk. If one gets it, the
others 'll want it, too. They 'll all be dissatisfied."

"Don't do it--that's all."

McLaughlin reflected a moment. "Did you ever hear of such a thing as a
worm turning?"

"Yes, but a worm does n't turn very fast. There'd be plenty of time to
see the indications and head it off."

McLaughlin drummed with his paper-cutter. "Somehow, I 've always been
afraid of worms. They 're so damned humble," he said presently.

Perkins laughed. "I believe you're afraid you 'll lose Skinner."

"Somebody might have got after him--Billings or Humphreys."

"Nobody's after a man that dresses like that!"

"But he might get after them."

"He does n't want to change. He has no ambition, no initiative. Take it
from me, Mac, any man that wears such clothes has resigned himself to
permanent, innocuous, uninteresting mediocrity."

"But--" McLaughlin protested.

Perkins cut him short. "Any man that wears clothes like a doormat will
let you make a doormat of him!"

"That's just what puzzles me. A good-looking man--fine eyes and a
figure. The only thing that stands between him and one of your Harvard
dudes is a first-class tailor. Perk, why _does_ he dress like that?"

"He began by skimping for that little house out in Meadeville. Then he
got used to going without good clothes and he did n't care."

"It's notorious," McLaughlin commented.

"Nobody cares much whether a cashier in his cage is well dressed," said
Perkins. "You can't see him below the waist-line. He might not have on
either trousers or shoes for all the public knows or cares."

"What