An hour later, still full of confidence, he took the bull by the horns and entered the offices of Stoughton and Bird. Young Stoughton was of his social crowd, and the father had been particularly agreeable to him on the several occasions on which he had dined at their home. The house was known for its conservatism, dealing in solid investments. "Hello, Skeeter," said Bojo, giving young Stoughton his college nickname. "Is the Governor busy--could he see me ten minutes?" They were in a vast outer chamber with junior members installed at distant desks, the telephone ringing at every moment. "I think you've caught him right," said Stoughton, shaking his hand cordially. "Wait a moment-- I'll 'phone in." He nodded presently. "Sure enough--go right in." Stoughton, senior, a short, well-groomed man, club-man and whip, pumped his hand affably with the smiling relaxation of one who throws off momentarily the professional manner. "Glad to see you, Tom. I was asking Jo yesterday what had become of you. Well, what have you got up your sleeve? You look mighty important. Want to sell me a railroad in Mexico or half of a Western State?" "Nothing like that," said Tom, laughing and at his ease at once. "What I'm looking for is a job." "You don't mean it," said Stoughton in surprise. "I want to get experience along solid lines," said Bojo confidentially. "In conservative financing and investments. I don't know whether you've got anything open, but if you have I'd like to apply." "I see." Stoughton nodded, plainly perplexed. "Does that mean you've left--" "Hauk and Flaspoller--yes." Stoughton frowned. "That's poor Charlie Forshay's firm, isn't it?" "Yes." "They were caught pretty hard in Pittsburgh & New Orleans," said Stoughton meditatively. "Yes, I remember. Were you caught too?" "I was." "What were you getting there?" "Of course I don't expect to get what I was making there--not just at present," said Bojo magnanimously. "I was getting as much as one hundred and twenty-five a week at the end." "No," said Stoughton, without the flicker of a smile, "you can't expect that." The social affability had faded. Gradually he had withdrawn into a quiet defensive attitude, tinged with curiosity. "By the way, you don't mind my asking a discreet question? Why don't you try Drake?" Bojo could not give an answer which would reveal too much, but he contented himself with saying frankly: "Why, Mr. Stoughton, I'd rather not ask favors. I'd like to work this out for myself." "Right," said Stoughton, brightening. Still beaming, he added: "Wish we had a place for you here. Unfortunately, our system is rather complex and we start a man at the bottom. Of course we wouldn't offer you anything like that. You're out of the ten-dollar-a-week class. Besides, you've got friends--good connections. Lots of firms would be glad to get you." "I want to get into something sound. I want to keep away from just brokers," said Bojo, much cheered.