I says to myself that if we couldn’t get to see one it was mighty funny if we could get to see the biggest man of all; but Mark was bound to try, so we found out where the president’s office was and went up there. It was half past nine and he wasn’t to work yet. “When’ll he be here?” says Mark. “Maybe ten o’clock,” says a man that was working outside the president’s door. “Ten,” says Mark, “um!... And how long does he stay?” “Oh, he’ll be around maybe till one, and then he gets lunch and you can’t tell how long he’ll be out. Then he goes home mostly about three or half past.” “Goodness!” says Mark to me. “I hain’t goin’ to be any f-f-freight man. I’m goin’ to be a p-p-president. Looks like he only works three hours, and maybe he gets p-paid three or four thousand dollars for it. Why, any feller could have three jobs like that, workin’ one right on the end of the other, and doin’ nine hours’ work a day! I could git rich doin’ that.” So we waited some more, and after a while in come a slender man with white hair and a cane, all dressed up like he was going to a party instead of coming to work. Everybody acted like they was afraid of him when he came in, and pertended to be mighty busy. He didn’t speak to anybody, but just marched through into his own room and scowled like anything. He looked like he was a regular man-eater. “Was that him?” says Mark. “Yes.” “Well, will you tell him that I want to t-t-talk to him?” “Who are you and what do you want?” Mark told him. “I dassen’t bother him with that,” says the man. “He looks savage to-day. He might discharge me right off.” “But I’ve got to see him. It’s important. It’s awful important.” “I’ll try it,” says the man, “but there isn’t a chance.” So he went to the door and rapped and put in his head. We heard a man roar. “Get out of here!” he bellowed. “Shut that door! Get out! I won’t see anybody this morning! Understand? Get out and stay out!” The man came back and says, “There, you see.” We did see, all right, and I was discouraged. Maybe Mark was, too, but he didn’t show it. He just looked madder than ever. “I’m goin’ to s-s-see that man,” says he, and we went out of that room into the long corridor. There we stopped and stood looking out of the window. In about two minutes Mark says, “Dast you t-t-try it, Plunk?” “Yes,” says I. “What?” “Look at that fire-escape. See how it goes along right past that room we were in. The p-president’s office is next and it goes p-p-past his window. We kin git in that way.” “He’d throw you off into the street,” says I. “He couldn’t l-lift me,” says he, and grinned. “Well,” says I, “I’m willin’ to go second if you’ll go first.” “Come on,” says he.