"You will not put me out, and I propose to remain here until I get a chance to see your employer," announced Steve in a low, firm tone. He calmly seated himself on a bench just outside the door of the office reception room. The office boy's eyes narrowed angrily. He took a step toward Rush, then, apparently thinking better of it, strode back to his little square desk and threw himself into a chair, where he sat glowering at the calm-eyed boy out in the corridor. Steve sat gazing steadily at the door of a room on which was written the word "President." Now and then he caught sight of a shadow within, through the ground-glass partition, and now and again the sound of voices reached him. "Are you going to move?" demanded a voice at his side. Steve glanced up, finding the office boy standing close to him, a threatening scowl on his face. "I told you I was waiting to see the president." "You are, eh?" "Yes." "How are you going to see him?" "I am going to wait here until he comes out." "If you don't get put out before that." "Then I shall wait out in the lobby by the elevator. You can't put me out, for I am not in your office." With a grunt the office boy returned to his desk. At about that time Rush caught sight of the figure of a man behind the glass of the door leading into the president's room. The lad was all attention at once. After a moment the door swung open and a man stepped out into the corridor and started for the elevator. "I beg pardon, sir, are you Mr. Carrhart?" questioned Steve. "Mr. Carrhart?" "Yes, sir." "Why, no, my lad; what made you think I was?" "I beg your pardon, sir. I saw you come out of the president's office and I wanted to see him very much," stammered the lad. "Then why don't you go to see him?" "I'm going to," answered Steve in a resolute tone. "Thank you, sir." With that the lad turned, walking rapidly back. He did not stop when he had reached the bench just outside the reception room. Instead, he stepped firmly up to the door of the president's office. His hand was upon the door knob. "Here, you, where you going?" cried the office boy, bounding after him. Steve made no reply, whereupon the office boy started for him again. But the latter was not quick enough. Rush opened the door to the private office and stepped within. The office boy prevented his closing the door, and a second later had bolted in after the visitor. Then things began to happen with surprising quickness. Rush went down in a heap, the office boy landing on his back. Over and over the two lads rolled, clasped in a tight embrace. "Here, here! What does this mean?" demanded the president, gazing with amazement at the rough-and-tumble battle going on at his very feet.