"Well," said McLaughlin, "it's come at last!" With true Irish dramatic instinct, he paused, then plumped out, "Skinner's asked for a raise!" [Illustration: "It's come at last! Skinner's asked for a raise"] He turned to note the effect of his words. "What?" said the junior, taken by surprise, then hastening to suppress any suggestion of emotion. "That great, big, long-eared, over-grown rabbit? Did he dare come in here and beard the hound in his kennel?" "He did that same," said McLaughlin, who had never quite lost his California vernacular. "That hair of yours did n't scare him?" McLaughlin grinned. "I guess it's lost its power." He got up and looked in the mirror over the mantel. "It _is_ fierce, ain't it? I think I'll let it grow." "Don't, Mac. It's your best asset as a bluffer." He shrugged his shoulders languidly. "You'd look like a philanthropist. They'd _all_ be asking for a raise!" "Wonder why he asked just _now_? He does n't know about that new contract with the Hudson & Erie people, does he?" "Even if he did, he would n't dare to hold you up on it." "He _ain't_ that kind, is he?" "No, Mac, it just occurred to him, that's all--it just occurred to him." Perkins paused, looked out of the window, then turned. "What do you think, Mac?" "We can't start in raising salaries just now, Perk. If one gets it, the others 'll want it, too. They 'll all be dissatisfied." "Don't do it--that's all." McLaughlin reflected a moment. "Did you ever hear of such a thing as a worm turning?" "Yes, but a worm does n't turn very fast. There'd be plenty of time to see the indications and head it off." McLaughlin drummed with his paper-cutter. "Somehow, I 've always been afraid of worms. They 're so damned humble," he said presently. Perkins laughed. "I believe you're afraid you 'll lose Skinner." "Somebody might have got after him--Billings or Humphreys." "Nobody's after a man that dresses like that!" "But he might get after them." "He does n't want to change. He has no ambition, no initiative. Take it from me, Mac, any man that wears such clothes has resigned himself to permanent, innocuous, uninteresting mediocrity." "But--" McLaughlin protested. Perkins cut him short. "Any man that wears clothes like a doormat will let you make a doormat of him!" "That's just what puzzles me. A good-looking man--fine eyes and a figure. The only thing that stands between him and one of your Harvard dudes is a first-class tailor. Perk, why _does_ he dress like that?" "He began by skimping for that little house out in Meadeville. Then he got used to going without good clothes and he did n't care." "It's notorious," McLaughlin commented. "Nobody cares much whether a cashier in his cage is well dressed," said Perkins. "You can't see him below the waist-line. He might not have on either trousers or shoes for all the public knows or cares." "What kind of a wife has he got?"