Skinner was a natural conservative and considerable of a
pessimist.
"Well, I daresay he has, although I hadn't given the matter any
thought, sir. However, the way lumber has been selling the past few
months, we ought to be cutting salaries instead of raising them."
"I know, Skinner, I know. But a boy needs some encouragement; he has
to have some concrete evidence of appreciation, er--er--attend to it,
Skinner, my boy, attend to it."
Mr. Skinner nodded and retired, leaving Cappy to grit his teeth and
curse himself for a poltroon. "It's certainly hell when a man of my
age and financial rating stands between his love and duty," he
mourned. "Darn that fellow Skinner. If my bluff should fail to work
and he got on his high horse and quit, I'd have to climb off my high
horse and beg him to return to work. And he knows it. He knows I've
been taking it easy so long I never could bring myself to take up the
burden of active business again. Money! What does money mean if it
can't buy happiness? Drat that devilish Skinner. I wish to jiminy he
had the burden of my dollars--"
He paused, overcome by a sudden brilliant thought. "Bully for you,
Alden P., you old, three-ply, copper-riveted, reinforced,
star-spangled jack-ass!" he murmured. "Why didn't you think of it
before and save yourself all this grief?"
His hand shot out once more to the push-button.
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