Everybody
but Mrs. Wimple and Mr. Tickler is out of Copy for the moment and the
former greets him with coy wit.
"Been taking your vacation at Newport, Crowie? Or didja sneak the Frisco
account away from Brugger's Service when you were out West?"
"Oh, no, got jugged--that was all," says Oliver quite truthfully if
tiredly and Mrs. Wimple crows at the jest with high laughter. Oliver
marvels at the fact that everybody should seem to think it so humorous to
be jailed.
"Why, Crowie, you naughty little boy! Oh mischief, mischief!" and she
scrapes one index finger over the other at him in a try for errant
childishness. Then she and her perfume come closer and this time she looks
around before she speaks and there is some little real concern in her
voice.
"Listen, Crowie--you better watch your step, boy--I'm telling you
straight. Old Man Alley was real sore when you didn't blow in yesterday--
it was one of Vanamee's bad days when his eye gets twitchy and he was
rearing around cursing everybody out and giving an oration on office
discipline that'd a made a goat go laugh itself ill.
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