"Hear what I said? D'yuh think I'm talking to give my throat exercise?"

Mr. Wrenn was stubborn. "I couldn't help it."

"Couldn't help--! And you call that an explanation! I know
just exactly what you're thinking, Wrenn; you're thinking that
because I've let you have a lot of chances to really work into
the business lately you're necessary to us, and not simply an
expense--"

"Oh no, Mr. Guilfogle; honest, I didn't think--"

"Well, hang it, man, you _want_ to think. What do you suppose we
pay you a salary for? And just let me tell you, Wrenn, right
here and now, that if you can't condescend to spare us some of
your valuable time, now and then, we can good and plenty get
along without you."

An old tale, oft told and never believed; but it interested Mr.
Wrenn just now.

"I'm real glad you can get along without me. I've just
inherited a big wad of money! I think I'll resign! Right now!"

Whether he or Mr. Mortimer R. Guilfogle was the more aghast at
hearing him bawl this no one knows. The manager was so worried
at the thought of breaking in a new man that his eye-glasses
slipped off his poor perspiring nose. He begged, in sudden
tones of old friendship: