business! Thanks," he nodded to Doctor Knox, and stormed out.

Darrow rose languidly.

"I'll see you again," he told Knox. "At present I'm going to follow the
human cyclone. It takes more than mere telephones to wake McCarthy up like
that."

He found the boss in the hall, his finger against the "down" button.

"That's three cars has passed me," he snarled, trying to peer through the
ground glass that, in the Atlas Building, surrounded the shaft. "I'll tan
somebody's hide. Down!" he bellowed at a shadow on the glass.

"Have a cigarette," proffered Percy Darrow. "Calm down. To the scientific
eye you're out of condition for such emotions. You thicknecks are subject
to apoplexy."

"Oh, shut up!" growled McCarthy. "There isn't a phone in order in this
building two floors either way. I've tried 'em--and there hasn't been for
twenty minutes. And I can't get a messenger to answer a call; and that
ring-tailed, star-spangled ornament of a janitor won't answer his private
bell. I'll get him bounced so high the blackbirds will build nests in his
ear before he comes down again."

After trying vainly to stop a car on its way up or down, McCarthy stumped
down a flight of stairs, followed more leisurely by the calmly unhurried
Darrow. Here the same performance was repeated. A half dozen men by now
had joined them. So they progressed from story to story until an elevator
boy, attracted by their frantic shouts, stopped to see what was the