“Well, Wrenn, I suppose there’s no use of rubbing it in. Course you know what I think about the whole thing. It strikes me you’re a fool to leave a good job. But, after all, that’s your business, not ours. We like you, and when you get tired of being just a bum, why, come back; we’ll always try to have a job open for you. Meanwhile I hope you’ll have a mighty good time, old man. Where you going? When d’yuh start out?”
“Why, first I’m going to just kind of wander round generally. Lots of things I’d like to do. I think I’ll get away real soon now…. Thank you awfully, Mr. Guilfogle, for keeping a place open for me. Course I prob’ly won’t need it, but gee! I sure do appreciate it.”
“Say, I don’t believe you’re so plumb crazy about leaving us, after all, now that the cards are all dole out. Straight now, are you?”
“Yes, sir, it does make me feel a little blue—been here so long. But it’ll be awful good to get out at sea.”
“Yuh, I know, Wrenn. I’d like to go traveling myself—I suppose you fellows think I wouldn’t care to go bumming around like you do and never have to worry about how the firm’s going to break even. But—Well, good-by, old man, and don’t forget us. Drop me a line now and then and let me know how you’re getting along. Oh say, if you happen to see any novelties that look good let us hear about them. But drop me a line, anyway. We’ll always be glad to hear from you. Well, good-by and good luck. Sure and drop me a line.”
In the corner which had been his home for eight years Mr. Wrenn could not devise any new and yet more improved arrangement of the wire baskets and clips and desk reminders, so he cleaned a pen, blew some gray eraser-dust from under his iron ink-well standard, and decided that his desk was in order; reflecting:
He’d been there a long time. Now he could never come back to it, no matter how much he wanted to…. How good the manager had been to him. Gee! he hadn’t appreciated how considerut Guilfogle was!
He started down the corridor on a round of farewells to the boys. “Too bad he hadn’t never got better acquainted with them, but it was too late now. Anyway, they were such fine jolly sports; they’d never miss a stupid guy like him.”
Just then he met them in the corridor, all of them except Guilfogle, headed by Rabin, the traveling salesman, and Charley Carpenter, who was bearing a box of handkerchiefs with a large green-and-crimson-paper label.