Both shook hands cordially and McLaughlin said, "Skinner, we're not only convinced that you're a thoroughly honest and methodical man"--he glanced knowingly at Perking--"but that you're a very able man as well. We--" Skinner cut him short. "Mr. McLaughlin, do I get the ostrich feather?" "You do, indeed,--and I'm only sorry that the great auk is dead!" Skinner blushed. "You don't know how good you 've made me feel, really you don't--giving me this chance to show what I could do." "You had your chance and you showed what you could do, all right," McLaughlin broke in. He paused, then, "Now, tell us, Skinner, how did you do it?" Skinner hesitated. "I'd rather not." "Why?" said McLaughlin. "Ain't you got it patented?" "Secret process," said Skinner. "It's more than that, it's an _effective_ process. But what's important to us, Skinner, is--could you work it on other folks besides Jackson?" "Yes--that is, most other men--middle-aged men." "Why middle-aged men?" "Because they're married--most middle-aged men are." McLaughlin turned to Perkins. "I'm darned if he ain't gone and mashed the climber. That's what I think!" Skinner thrust his hands into his pockets, walked over to the window, then turned and slowly came back to within a few feet of where McLaughlin was sitting. "On my way back from St. Paul, Mr. McLaughlin," he said--and Perkins, recognizing the premonitory symptoms, crossed to the window and stood with his back to his partner and "the cage man"--"Mr. McLaughlin," Skinner repeated after a pause, "I've been thinking that the most valuable man to any concern is the one that gets the business for it." "Right-o!" said McLaughlin. "And the hardest man to get," Skinner went on, "is the customer you get back. You not only have to pry him loose from some other concern with better figures, but you have his personal pride to overcome. To come back is a surrender." "All of which means that you expect a raise, eh, Skinner?" "I was only going to suggest--" "You don't have to suggest. We've already decided to raise you twenty-five dollars a week. How does that strike you? Just as a mark of appreciation." "I can't see any appreciation in it unless you take me out of the cage--for this reason," said Skinner. "As a 'cage man' I'm not worth much more than I 've been getting. In order to earn that extra twenty-five dollars a week I 've got to have a chance to show what I can do further. Take me out of the cage." "Skinner," said McLaughlin, "you didn't for a minute think that we were going to keep a man that could pull off such a trick as that in a cage, did you? We're going to make you a salesman." The idea of going on the road did n't appeal to Skinner. "To be frank, Mr. McLaughlin, I want something better than that." "Better?"