“He's coming to the door, he's turning the handle,” said Little Ann. Tembarom came in. He was fresh with recent face-washing, and his hair was damp, so that a short lock curled and stood up. He had been uptown making frantic efforts for hours, but he had been making them in a spirit of victorious relief, and he did not look tired at all. “I've got it!” he cried out the moment he entered. “I've got it, by jingo! The job's mine for keeps.” “Galton's give it to you out and out?” Hutchinson was slightly excited himself. “He's in the bulliest humor you ever saw. He says I've done first-rate, and if I go on, he'll run me up to thirty.” “Well, I'm danged glad of it, lad, that I am!” Hutchinson gave in handsomely. “You put backbone into it.” Little Ann stood near, smiling. Her smile met Tembarom's. “I know you're glad, Little Ann,” he said. “I'd never have got there but for you. It was up to me, after the way you started me.” “You know I'm glad without me telling you,” she answered. “I'm RIGHTDOWN glad.” And it was at this moment that Mrs. Bowse came into the room. “It's too bad it's happened just now,” she said, much flustered. “That's the way with things. The stew'll spoil, but he says it's real important.” Tembarom caught at both her hands and shook them. “I've got it, Mrs. Bowse. Here's your society reporter! The best-looking boarder you've got is going to be able to pay his board steady.” “I'm as glad as can be, and so will everybody be. I knew you'd get it. But this gentleman's been here twice to-day. He says he really must see you.” “Let him wait,” Hutchinson ordered. “What's the chap want? The stew won't be fit to eat.” “No, it won't,” answered Mrs. Bowse; “but he seems to think he's not the kind to be put off. He says it's more Mr. Tembarom's business than his. He looked real mad when I showed him into the parlor, where they were playing the pianola. He asked wasn't there a private room where you could talk.” A certain flurried interest in the manner of Mrs. Bowse, a something not usually awakened by inopportune callers, an actual suggestion of the possible fact that she was not as indifferent as she was nervous, somewhat awakened Mr. Hutchinson's curiosity. “Look here,” he volunteered, “if he's got any real business, he can't talk over to the tune of the pianola you can bring him up here, Tembarom. I'll see he don't stay long if his business isn't worth talkin' about. He'll see the table set for supper, and that'll hurry him.” “Oh, gee I wish he hadn't come!” said Tembarom. “I'll just go down and see what he wants. No one's got any swell private business with me.” “You bring him up if he has,” said Hutchinson. “We'd like to hear about it.” Tembarom ran down the stairs quickly.