“Gogie—square? Yuh, he’s square just like a hoop. You know it, too, Wrenn. Now that you’ve got enough money so’s you don’t need to be scared about the job you’ll realize it, and you’ll want to soak him, same’s I do. _Say!_” The impulse of a great idea made him gleefully shake his fist sidewise. “Say! Why _don’t_ you soak him? They bank on you at the Souvenir Company. Darn’ sight more than you realize, lemme tell you. Why, you do about half the stock-keeper’s work, sides your own. Tell you what you do. You go to old Goglefogle and tell him you want a raise to twenty-five, and want it right now. Yes, by golly, _thirty!_ You’re worth that, or pretty darn’ near it, but ’course old Goglefogle’ll never give it to you. He’ll threaten to fire you if you say a thing more about it. You can tell him to go ahead, and then where’ll he be? Guess that’ll call his bluff some!” “Yes, but, Charley, then if Guilfogle feels he can’t pay me that much—you know he’s responsible to the directors; he can’t do everything he wants to—why, he’ll just have to fire me, after I’ve talked to him like that, whether he wants to or not. And that’d leave us—that’d leave them—without a sales clerk, right in the busy season.” “Why, sure, Wrenn; that’s what we want to do. If you go it ’d leave ’em without just about _two_ men. Bother ’em like the deuce. It ’d bother Mr. Mortimer X. Y. Guglefugle most of all, thank the Lord. He wouldn’t know where he was at—trying to break in a man right in the busy season. Here’s your chance. Come on, kid; don’t pass it up.” “Oh gee, Charley, I can’t do that. You wouldn’t want me to try to _hurt_ the Souvenir Company after being there for—lemme see, it must be seven years.” “Well, maybe you _like_ to get your cute little nose rubbed on the grindstone! I suppose you’d like to stay on at nineteen per for the rest of your life.” “Aw, Charley, don’t get sore; please don’t! I’d like to get off, all right—like to go traveling, and stuff like that. Gee! I’d like to wander round. But I can’t cut out right in the bus—” “But can’t you see, you poor nut, you won’t be _leaving_ ’em—they’ll either pay you what they ought to or lose you.” “Oh, I don’t know about that, Charley. “Charley was making up for some uncertainty as to his own logic by beaming persuasiveness, and Mr. Wrenn was afraid of being hypnotized. “No, no!” he throbbed, rising. “Well, all right!” snarled Charley, “if you like to be Gogie’s goat…. Oh, you’re all right, Wrennski. I suppose you had ought to stay, if you feel you got to…. Well, so long. I’ve got to beat it over and buy a pair of socks before I go back.”