of an art director over in your place?"

"Occasionally," replied Summerfield guardedly, for his impression was
that Mr. Baker Bates knew very little of art directors or anything else
in connection with the art side of advertising life. He might have heard
of his present need and be trying to palm off some friend of his, an
incompetent, of course, on him. "What makes you ask?"

"Why, Hudson Dula, the manager of the Triple Lithographic Company, was
telling me of a man who is connected with the _World_ who might make a
good one for you. I know something of him. He painted some rather
remarkable views of New York and Paris here a few years ago. Dula tells
me they were very good."

"Is he young?" interrupted Summerfield, calculating.

"Yes, comparatively. Thirty-one or two, I should say."

"And he wants to be an art director, does he. Where is he?"

"He's down on the _World_, and I understand he wants to get out of
there. I heard you say last year that you were looking for a man, and I
thought this might interest you."

"What's he doing down on the _World_?"

"He's been sick, I understand, and is just getting on his feet again."

The explanation sounded sincere enough to Summerfield.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"Witla, Eugene Witla. He had an exhibition at one of the galleries here
a few years ago."

"I'm afraid of these regular high-brow artists," observed Summerfield
suspiciously. "They're usually so set up about their art that there's no
living with them. I have to have someone with hard, practical sense in
my work. Someone that isn't a plain damn fool. He has to be a good
manager--a good administrator, mere talent for drawing won't do--though
he has to have that, or know it when he sees it. You might send this
fellow around sometime if you know him. I wouldn't mind looking at him.
I may need a man pretty soon. I'm thinking of making certain changes."

"If I see him I will," said Baker indifferently and dropped the matter.
Summerfield, however, for some psychological reason was impressed with
the name. Where had he heard it? Somewhere apparently. Perhaps he had
better find out something about him.

"If you send him you'd better give him a letter of introduction," he
added thoughtfully, before Bates should have forgotten the matter. "So
many people try to get in to see me, and I may forget."

Baker knew at once that Summerfield wished to look at Witla. He dictated
a letter of introduction that afternoo