ss of saving time
that he made not the slightest pause in his writing, while the redoubled
vigor and caution of the pantomime seemed to indicate the approach of a
crisis. At length Mr. Bates raised his head. Jimmy and the lanky clerk
became at once engrossed in their duties.

"You have had no experience of this kind of work, Mr. Cameron?" inquired
Mr. Bates kindly.

"No, Sir. But if you will just explain one or two matters, I think I
can--"

"Exactly! This is not, however, a business college! But we shall do our
best!"

A rapturous smile pervaded the office. Mr. Bates was in excellent form.

"By the way, Mr. Cameron--pardon my neglect--but may I inquire just what
department of this work you are familiar with?"

"Oh, general--"

"Ah! The position of general manager, however, is filled at present!"
replied Mr. Bates kindly.

Cameron's flush grew deeper, while Jimmy and his friend resigned
themselves to an ecstasy of delight.

"I was going to say," said Cameron in a tone loud and deliberate, "that
I had been employed with the general copying work in a writer's office."

"Writing? Fancy! Writing, eh? No use here!" said Mr. Bates shortly, for
time was passing.

"A writer with us means a lawyer!" replied Cameron.

"Why the deuce don't they say so?" answered Mr. Bates impatiently.
"Well! Well!" getting hold of himself again. "Here we allow our
solicitors to look after our legal work. Typewrite?" he inquired
suddenly.

"I beg your pardon!" replied Cameron. "Typewrite? Do you mean, can I use
a typewriting machine?"

"Yes! Yes! For heaven's sake, yes!"

"No, I cannot!"

"Bookkeep?"

"No."

"Good Lord! What have I got?" inquired Mr. Bates of himself, in a tone,
however, perfectly audible to those in the immediate neighbourhood.

"Try him licking stamps!" suggested the lanky youth in a voice that,
while it reached the ears of Jimmy and others near by, including
Cameron, was inaudible to the manager. Mr. Bates caught the sound,
however, and glared about him through his spectacles. Time was being
wasted--the supreme offense in that office--and Mr. Bates was fast
losing his self-command.

"Here!" he cried suddenly, seizing a sheaf of letters. "File these
letters. You will be able to do that, I guess! File's in the vault over
there!"

Cameron took the letters and stood looking helplessly from them to Mr.
Bates' bald head, that gentleman's face being already in close proximity
to the papers on his desk.