well, you have one. Check out with the captain." Sextus couldn't
tolerate discourteous familiarity. Friendly familiarity was bad enough,
but the "chum" did it.

The boy banged the door behind him.

Sextus opened his bag. From it he extracted a fifth of whiskey which he
took to the tiled bathroom. He stripped the cellophane from a drinking
glass, poured it half-full of the amber liquor and drained it.

He was in the shower when the phone rang. He dripped to the night stand
with the patience of one who has soaked many a rug and discovered that
they don't stain. "Forsyte here!" he answered.

"The new manager? Well, this is Jackson, bell-captain. Whadda you mean
canning Jerry? I'm down to twelve skippers and you start out by firing
one of my fastest boys!"

"The boy was sarcastic and insolent. Take it up with the service
manager. Anyway, how many bellmen do you need to run this cracker-box?
Twelve is about eight too many."

There was a brief silence, then: "In the first place _I am_ your service
manager, or all you got at the present. In the second damned place, you
tell me where I can lay my hands on ten more boys before you go canning
any more. I'm rehiring Jerry as of now!" He banged the receiver in
Sextus' ear.

Unperturbed, Sextus finished his shower, dressed in a lighter weight
suit and picked up the phone. The house switchboard apparently was
jammed. It took a full minute to get an operator. "Forsyte here. Your
new manager, that is. Instruct all department heads to be in my office
in seven minutes. General conference."

* * * * *

Another short nip at the bottle served nicely to quiet a small hunger
pang. He went in search of his office. He found it on the mezzanine,
suitably lavish, clean and well-furnished.

He adjusted the fragrant carnation on his lapel in the large wall
mirror, not entirely displeased with what it reflected. Except for the
suitcase wrinkles in his morning coat, he should pass inspection. His
thinning hair, square jaw and wide-set eyes radiated a quiet dignity.
The slight pink of his cheeks and nose was a bit more prominent than he
liked. He should have had some breakfast.

The phone rang and he let it. He was not yet ready to assume his duties.
But as time passed and none of his staff appeared, the ring became more
significant. He gave in.

"Forsyte here!"

"Sorry, Mr. Forsyte," it was the operator, "but none of your staff can
join you just now. T