ds would show all, the slips and
errors of the office as well as its speed and capacity. Eugene perceived
that he must see to it that his men did not make many mistakes.

After this order book had been carefully inspected by him, he rose and
strolled about among the men to see how they were getting on. He wanted
to familiarize himself at once with the styles and methods of his men.
Some were working on clothing ads, some on designs illustrative of the
beef industry, some on a railroad travel series for the street cars, and
so forth. Eugene bent over each one graciously, for he wanted to make
friends with these people and win their confidence. He knew from
experience how sensitive artists were--how they could be bound by
feelings of good fellowship. He had a soft, easy, smiling manner which
he hoped would smooth his way for him. He leaned over this man's
shoulder and that asking what the point was, how long a piece of work of
that character ought to take, suggesting where a man appeared to be in
doubt what he thought would be advisable. He was not at all certain of
himself--this line of work being so new--but he was hopeful and eager.
It was a fine sensation, this being a boss, if one could only triumph at
it. He hoped to help these men to help themselves; to make them make
good in ways which would bring them and him more money. He wanted more
money--that five thousand, no less.

"I think you have the right idea there," he said to one pale, anaemic
worker who looked as though he might have a lot of talent.

The man, whose name was Dillon, responded to the soothing, caressing
tone of his voice. He liked Eugene's appearance, though he was not at
all disposed to pass favorable judgment as yet. It was already rumored
that he had had an exceptional career as an artist. Summerfield had
attended to that. He looked up and smiled and said, "Do you think so?"

"I certainly do," said Eugene cheerfully. "Try a touch of yellow next to
that blue. See if you don't like that."

The artist did as requested and squinted at it narrowly. "It helps it a
lot, don't it," he observed, as though it were his own.

"It certainly does," said Eugene, "that's a good idea," and somehow
Dillon felt as though he had thought of it. Inside of twenty minutes the
whole staff was agreeing with itself that he was a nice man to all
outward appearances and that he might make good. He appeared to be so
sure. They little knew how perturbed he was inwardly, h