“It don’t trouble you much,” said Mr. Chester Young indulgently. “If it did you’d call in that collar you’re wearing.” “What’s the matter with my collar?” “Nothing, only they don’t wear ’em like that now.” Young put a hand to his throat and pulled his terra-cotta silk scarf into place. “More like this.” “Oh, I see,” said Jack. “Sort of low and rakish, eh? All right. Live and learn. Say, Joe, that thing you’re wearing is worse than mine. I should think you’d be ashamed of yourself!” “I’d be ashamed to be seen in one like his,” answered Joe. “Get Meyers and Fink and tell them to send us a hundred Adams Building conchas and two boxes of Vistas panatellas, will you? Don’t forget to give these returns to the news company, Young, when they come today. I’ve been falling over them for two or three days.” “We’re out of City Hall post-cards,” said Young. “And we’re getting short on some of the others.” “They’re on order, thanks. That reminds me, Jack. Those chocolates aren’t as good as they sent us first. Guess we’d better switch back to the Cleveland folks. Their packages aren’t quite as dressy, but the chocolates are a lot better.” “There was a fellow in here just before you came,” observed Young, “trying to sell us candy. I told him to come back later. He had some new stuff, all right; glazed boxes with crimson ribbons across ’em. Pretty good-looking line, I thought.” “Tell him we don’t want anything when he comes again. How are you off for magazines there, Young?” “Pretty fair. We’ve sold about twenty of those Murray’s. Ought to order more, I guess.” “All right. How many are there there?” “Four――no, five. They’ll sell today, I guess. And we’re short of Mid-Wests. Only two of those here.” “I’ll order twenty more Murray’s and ten Mid-Wests.” Joe reached for the telephone with one hand and searched for a nickel with the other. “The telephone company is after Mr. Adams to put in a couple of booths here, Jack. If he lets them do it it’ll make this ’phone cost us money. Hello! Amesville 430! As it is we’re making about seven dollars a month on this thing. Hello? News company? This is Adams Building. Send around twenty Murray’s Monthlies and ten Mid-Wests this noon, will you? I beg your pardon? No, that’s all. Murray’s and――Yes, I think you’d better. Make it fifty Murray’s and twenty-five Mid-Wests after this. Good-bye.” Joe hung up the receiver and put the instrument back in place, and when Mr. Chester Young had served a customer, remarked: “By the way, Young, you don’t seem to be keeping that gang of yours out of here much better. Yesterday there were six or seven hanging around. We’ve spoken two or three times about it, you know. We don’t want this to become a loafing place. Mr. Adams doesn’t like it, and we don’t, either.” “Well, you can’t turn away custom, can you? Those guys spend their money with you, don’t they?”