Nothing doing but work. I don't mind work, but this
indulging a lawless passion for it--not for mine. I've had three months
of that, and I think I'm due for a change. And don't you think that's
enough autobiography to qualify me for pump-man on an oil-tanker?"
The head clerk yawned prodigiously, and hummed, and whistled, looked out
of the window, and by and by found time to say, "you can leave your
name. And sometime possibly"--and just then the buzzer clicked, and the
applicant saw him disappear into the private office.
* * * * *
It was only the new superintendent's second day, and to the head clerk
he still seemed an unaggressive sort, not much to look at, and, so far,
not much to say. A clever man ought to be able to handle him. And yet,
as the head clerk was crossing the floor of the private office, the eye
of the new superintendent never looked away. Yes, he did have a puzzling
eye.
"Close the door, Mr. Grump. Why not ship that man for that berth? He
seems competent."
"The captain of the _Rapidan_ said he had a man in mind for the place,
sir."
"M-h-h. And something of a martinet, isn't he, this _Rapidan_ captain?"
"Something, sir."
"M-h-h. But even so, he probably won't object to my naming one man of
his crew. And I would like it if you would sign this man."
"The captain of the _Rapidan_ has always selected all his own crew,
sir.
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