This was John's ordeal. Two emotions were visibly struggling in him. He knew perfectly, poor fellow, his incompetence, and the consequent slight estimate in which we (being only plodding accountants, with no very exalted criterion to judge men by) held him. Nevertheless, this morning it must have been plain to him a new factor had entered into his position among us—one, moreover, which, quite irrespective of his ability or inefficiency as a commercial automaton, entitled him to a positive measure of respect from us. Diffident, however, and totally lacking in self-confidence as he was, how was he to break through the old barriers of contempt and derision which we held out against him, and demand of us, and enforce from us the payment of this new obligation? It was a task, truly, which seemed to require more courage and power over others than the little man possessed, and very much depended on an initial success. One could see that he felt this himself; for as he walked toward us (his knees perceptibly shaking, in spite of the unusual length of his strides) he shifted his eyes from side to side; and when they did rest on one of us for a moment, there was in their weak, watery blue an appeal rather than a command. Ted was the first to meet him. He gripped his hand hard and cordially, and looked straight into his face. "Mighty glad to hear it, John," he said. John flushed, and his eyes brightened and he held on fast. "Thanks, Ted, thanks!" he stammered, much moved. But, as their hands parted, Ted smiled. It was not meant unkindly; but Ted, who was a cocky, self-assured chap, and something of a sport, too, never seemed able to look seriously at the affair for more than a second at a time. John's courage, which had begun to rise, left him instantly; and he quite lost his self-control. He was white as he took the limp hand Bill stretched out to him. "Congratulate you, John," the latter said, frigidly, and the "Thanks, Bill, thanks," of the reply was all of a tremble. Suddenly, however, a new feeling seemed to come over John, and this was indignation—indignation at himself, and anger at the man before him. He reddened, and stood erect again, and dropped Bill's hand; and, without a word, turned to me. I don't recollect what I said to John. Perhaps I said nothing. I remember only I was thinking, "You'd have lost that bet, Bill, if you'd taken it." II Shortly after, Al Williams, who was John's next in rank, came in; but I did not notice his greeting as I was busy over by the window filing checks. Then, at nine, we opened up, and the regular routine of work began. Nine-thirty was my time for starting off with the morning's collections, drafts on tradespeople, post-office orders, protested checks and the like. I was very anxious that the president should arrive before I left, for I was particularly curious to see how John would take his congratulations, and in what spirit they would be offered.