Part 10 (1/2)

Doodles walked into the great office of the Fair Harbor Paper Company and asked to see Mr. Randolph.

”We hired a boy last week. We don't want any more.” The clerk was turning away.

”Oh, I'm not applying for a place!” cried Doodles, his voice full of laughter. ”I wish to see the president on business.”

The young man scowled, irritated by his blunder, and surveyed the boy with a disagreeable sneer.

”Well, he's too busy to attend to kids. What do you want anyhow?”

Doodles hesitated. He did not wish to tell his errand to this pompous young person.

”Please say to Mr. Randolph that I would like to see him on important business about the June Holiday Home.”

”Who sent you?”

”No one; but I have a letter of introduction.”

”Oh, you have! Hand it out!”

Doodles made no move toward his pocket.

”I wish to give it to Mr. Randolph himself,” he said gently.

”Well, you can't see him. He's busy now.”

”I will wait,” replied the boy, and took a chair.

The clerk went behind the railing and sat down at a desk.

Doodles looked out on the street and watched the pa.s.sers.

Occasionally his eyes would wander back to the office and over the array of men and women bent to their work, then they would return to the wide doorway. He felt that he had small chance to speak with Mr. Randolph until he should go to luncheon, and that, he argued to himself, would not be a very good time to present his business. He wished that the unpleasant young clerk would go first--he would like to try some other.

Men and women came and went, some of them disappearing in the rear, where, undoubtedly, was the man he sought. If only he dared follow! Finally the offensive youth came out through the gate and over to where he sat.

”Here, you kid,” he began in an insolent tone, ”you've hung round here long enough! Now beat it!”

Into the soft brown eyes of Doodles shot an angry light.

The other saw it and smiled sneeringly. He did not count on the lad's strength.

In a moment the indignation had pa.s.sed. There was none of it in the quiet voice. ”Good-day, sir!”

Doodles was gone.

A plan had instantly formed in his mind. He would get himself a lunch, and then wait outside the office until Mr. Randolph appeared. That was the only way. It never occurred to him to give the matter up.

One restaurant was pa.s.sed; it did not look inviting. The next was better, but flies were crawling over the bottles and jars in the window. He went on.

”It will cost more, I suppose,” he muttered regretfully to himself, as he entered a neat cafe where the door was opened to him by a boy in livery.