me back at me, Alex takes
things in hand.

"Jared," he says, "you are certainly a educated citizen. With all them
interestin' facts and figures in your head you must be very valuable to
the firm you work for, hey?"

Jared throws out what chest he had with him.

"Well," he says, "I saved the Hamilton Construction Company just
$6,547.98 last year by cutting down the excessive use of lead pencils
and blotters alone!"

"That's fine!" says Alex. "No doubt they give you a handsome bonus for
that, hey?"

"Of course," says Jared. "They raised my salary to thirty-five dollars
a week. I was only getting thirty-two and a half."

"You saved them six thousand last year and they raised you about a
hundred and thirty, eh?" says Alex. "Now, listen! Why couldn't you
have made that six thousand for _yourself_ just as easy?"

"Why--I--why--" stammers Jared. "I have no chance to make anything but
my salary. I'm simply working there, and--"

"And you always will be, if you don't get wise to yourself!" butts in
Alex. "Your boss--"

"My boss, eh?" sneers Jared. "Say, he hasn't got the brains of a gnat!
He'd be absolutely up in the air if I wasn't at his elbow with data and
estimates on everything. He doesn't know anything, and--"

"No, I guess not!" butts in Alex, with a odd grin. "He don't know
anything--only how to make money! Say, listen! If this boss of yours
is such a boob, what must _you_ be? You're _workin'_ for him, ain't
you? Why should he have any brains, when he can rent yours for
thirty-five dollars a week? Now, listen to me, son. You know a little
about everything on earth, with the slight exception of yourself! The
figures that should interest you more than anything else is these: For
every dollar _you_ make, your boob boss is makin' a thousand. Ever
figure them statistics along with the other stuff?"

Jared registers embarrassment. "Look here!" he says. "I really don't
see the reason of all this. I consider myself quite successful. I may
not be making a million a week, but I'm always sure of my job, and
that's quite a lot!"

"You're always sure of your job, hey?" bawls Alex. "That's the slogan
of the quitter! 'I'm gettin' my little old salary fifty-two weeks a
year, and that's good enough for me.' That's the motto of the loser."
With that he jumps up and sticks his face so close to Jared I thought
he was gonna bite him or the like. "What about the future?" he
hollers. "You must have