"Mr. Ransome'll see _you_ just as soon as he's finished with this gentleman," indicating the pompous one. But the new business clothes had knocked all the acquiescence out of Skinner. In their spic-and-spanness they fairly shrieked for respect. "See here, boy," Skinner exclaimed angrily, "you tell Mr. Ransome that I was here before this gentleman and that I want him to see me now or not at all!" "But--" "Go!" said Skinner. "My firm is important if I'm not," he muttered as the boy disappeared. And as Ransome was seller to, instead of a buyer from, McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc., he came out immediately, rubbing his hands. "Why, Mr. Skinner, I did n't know you were in a hurry." "Personally, I'm not," replied Skinner, "but my firm's time is valuable." "Of course--of course--come right in." When he got back to his cage, Skinner jotted down in his little book:-- _Dress-Suit Account_ _Debit_ _Credit_ One victory over detested office boy! Good moral effect. Shan't waste any more time hereafter just to accommodate pompous individuals! "Say, Mac," said Perkins at luncheon, "did you notice our Skinner's brand-new attire?" "Yes, Perk," said the senior partner, "and I 'm mighty glad of it. I was always ashamed of him--the way he dressed." CHAPTER VII SKINNER AND THE "GOLD BUGS" A new and unforseen, but perfectly logical, development from the purchase of the new business suit awaited Skinner a few days later. It came about in this way. He was making his customary heel-and-toe sprint for the depot when Stephen Colby came bowling along in his 60 H.P. That gentleman nodded to Skinner, pulled up, and took him in. "You're late," he said genially. "I am, by Jove, and thank you for the lift," said Skinner. "I've been wanting to tell you a story," said Colby. "I had it on my list the other night, but somehow I did n't get to it. You know, you can't always follow the list you make out. Stories have got to be apropos of something somebody else says, so my list always gets mixed up and I miss telling some of the best ones." It was one of the multi-millionaire's pleasures to regale his friends with anecdotal matter of his own experience. But before he had finished this particular story, they had reached the depot. The train had already pulled in and Colby, still talking, led the way into the Pullman. Skinner hesitated on the threshold of that unaccustomed domain, but he felt that the magnate expected him to go in with him, and he followed.