place for me. He told me he is now carrying a dozen ex-service men
merely because he hasn't the heart to let them go. I believe him."

"Well, my dear boy--my dear young friend! Why do you come to me?"

"Because," Mr. Peck replied smilingly, "I want you to go over their
heads and give me a job. I don't care a hoot what it is, provided I can
do it. If I can do it, I'll do it better than it was ever done before,
and if I can't do that I'll quit to save you the embarrassment of firing
me. I'm not an object of charity, but I'm scarcely the man I used to be
and I'm four years behind the procession and have to catch up. I have
the best of references--"

"I see you have," Cappy cut in blandly, and pressed the push-button on
his desk. Mr. Skinner entered. He glanced disapprovingly at William E.
Peck and then turned inquiring eyes toward Cappy Ricks.

"Skinner, dear boy," Cappy purred amiably, "I've been thinking over the
proposition to send Andrews out to the Shanghai office, and I've come to
this conclusion. We'll have to take a chance. At the present time that
office is in charge of a stenographer, and we've got to get a manager on
the job without further loss of time. So I'll tell you what we'll do.
We'll send Andrews out on the next boat, but inform him that his
position is temporary. Then if he doesn't make good out there we can
take him back into this office, where he is a most valuable man.
Meanwhile--ahem! hum-m-m! Harumph!--meanwhile, you'd oblige me greatly,
Skinner, my dear boy, if you would consent to take this young man into
your office and give him a good work-out to see the stuff he's made of.
As a favor to me, Skinner, my dear boy, as a favor to me."