or the nervous clasping and unclasping of his hands one would have
thought him sound asleep.

For a month no gleam of light filtered through the deep gloom of the old
gentleman's predicament. A dozen times had he reached forth to press the
push-button on his desk, summon Skinner and force the latter to do one
of two things; recede from his position or resign as general manager.
Ten times he had paused with his finger on the push-button. He simply
could NOT afford to dispense with Skinner! The eleventh time, however,
grown desperate from much brooding over his unhappy lot, Cappy pressed
the button.

"Send Mr. Skinner in," he commanded bravely to the boy who answered his
summons.

Mr. Skinner entered and stood awaiting Cappy's pleasure. On the instant
the old fellow was overcome by panic. Frantically he sought an "out."

"Skinner, my dear boy," he purred, "has it occurred to you that young
Tommy, the office boy, has been here long enough, and behaved himself
well enough, to merit a raise of about ten dollars a month?"

Mr. Skinner was a natural conservative and considerable of a pessimist.

"Well, I daresay he has, although I hadn't given the matter any thought,
sir. However, the way lumber has been selling the past few months, we
ought to be cutting salaries instead of raising them."

"I know, Skinner, I know. But a boy needs some encouragement; he has
to have some concrete evidence of appreciation, er--er--attend to it,
Skinner, my boy, attend to it."

Mr. Skinner nodded and retired, leaving Cappy to grit his teeth and
curse himself for a poltroon. "It's certainly hell when a man of my
age and financial rating stands between his love and duty," he mourned.
"Darn that fellow Skinner. If my bluff should fail to work and he got on
his high horse and quit, I'd have to climb off my high horse and beg him
to return to work. And he knows it. He knows I've been taking it easy so
long I never could bring myself to take up the burden of active business
again. Money! What does money mean if it can't buy happiness? Drat that
devilish Skinner. I wish to jiminy he had the burden of my dollars--"

He paused, overcome by a sudden brilliant thought. "Bully for you,
Alden P., you old, three-ply, copper-riveted, reinforced, star-spangled
jack-ass!" he murmured. "Why didn't you think of it before and save
yourself all this grief?"

His hand shot out once more to the push-button. "Send in Mr. Hankins,
sonny," he ordered the offic