“Sit down! don’t take any notice,” said Mr. Blades, who was trying not to laugh and failing; but I felt that perhaps he didn’t quite understand a thing like this, having passed the stage for it and being married and so on; whereas no doubt the purple-chinned young man, if he could chuck an orange, could also get it back without taking it in the wrong spirit. A good many chaps watched me and some thought I was going to take the orange into Mr. Westonshaugh; but I just went casually up the room, and when I got to the purple-chinned young man, who was writing away like mad, I stopped and turned suddenly. “A ripping shot,” I said. “I funked flinging it back for fear of hitting the wrong man.” Then I squashed down the orange hard on the purple-chinned young man’s head and hooked back to my desk. “You long-legged young devil!” he shouted, but he wasn’t angry, only surprised. There was rather a row then, because a good many chaps laughed out loud and Mr. Westonshaugh came to his door. “Not so much noise, gentlemen, please,” he said, and then went in again. Half an hour afterwards the purple-chinned young man, whose name was Dicky Travers, came up to my desk. “It’s all right,” he began. “It was a fair score; but how the devil did you know that I threw it? I’ll swear you didn’t see me.” “I didn’t,” I admitted; “but when I came in from lunch you were sucking it with your head in your desk, so I guessed.” That man turned out one of my very best and dearest friends in the Apollo Fire Office! He proved to be an athlete of world-wide fame and a member of the London Athletic Club. He had won countless trophies and cups and clocks and cellarettes and salad bowls, and was simply tired of seeing his name in print. He was a champion walker and had on several occasions walked seven miles inside an hour; and two miles in fifteen minutes was mere fun to him! So ended my first day of work. At four o’clock a good number of the clerks prepared to leave and Mr. Blades told me that I could go. Of course I thanked him very much for all his kindness during the day. “That’s all right,” he said; “and to-morrow bring an office coat with you and keep that swagger one for out of doors. Let it be a dark colour—in fact, black for choice. It’s better form. And to-morrow I will show you how you can keep your cuffs clean by putting paper over them. Now you put your work into your desk and lock it up and go home. You have made a very decent start.” I thanked him again and cleared out.