goes on Old Hickory, "are the Corrugated Crabs?"

"Why," says I, "I expect they're some of the young sports on the general
office staff."

"Huh!" he grunts. "Why Crabs?"

I hunches my shoulders and lets it go at that.

"I notice," says Old Hickory, taking back the sheet, "that one feature
of the entertainment was an impersonation by Mr. Brinkerhoff Hollis, of
'the Old He-Crab Himself unloading a morning grouch'. Now, just what
does that mean?"

"Couldn't say exactly," says I. "I wasn't there."

"Oh, you were not, eh?" says he. "Didn't suppose you were. But you
understand, Torchy, I am asking this information of you as my private
secretary. I--er--it will be treated as confidential."

"Sorry, Mr. Ellins," says I, "but you know about as much of it as I do."

"Which is quite enough," says he, "for me to decide that the Corrugated
can dispense with the services of this Hollis person at once. You will
notify Mr. Piddie to that effect."

"Ye-e-es, sir," says I, sort of draggy.

He glances up at me quick. "You're not enthusiastic about it, eh?" says
he.

"No," says I.

"Then for your satisfaction, and somewhat for my own," he goes on, "we
will review the case against this young man. He was one of three who won
a D minus rating in the report made by that efficiency expert called in
by Mr. Piddie last fall."

"Yes, I know," says I. "That squint-eyed bird who sprung his brain tests
on the force and let on he could card index the way your gray matter
worked by askin' a lot of nutty questions. I remember. Brink Hollis was
guyin' him all the while and he never caught on. Had the whole bunch
chucklin'over it. One of Piddie's fads, he was."

Old Hickory waves one hand impatient. "Perhaps," says he. "I don't mean
to say I value that book psychology rigamarole very highly myself. Cost
us five hundred, too. But I've had an eye on that young man's work ever
since, and it hasn't been brilliant. This bond summary is a sample. It's
a mess."

"I don't doubt it!" says I. "But if I'd been Piddie I think I'd have
hung the assignment for that on some other hook than Hollis's. He didn't
know what a bond looked like until a year ago and that piece of work
called for an old hand."

"Possibly, possibly," agrees Old Hickory. "It seems he is clever enough
at this sort of thing, however," and he waves the program.

I couldn't help smotherin' a chuckle.

"Am I to infer," says Mr. Ellins, "that this He-Crab act of his was
humorous?