"
Mr. Bangs's fish eyes regarded him with glittering disfavor.
"Perhaps you would prefer an office job?" he suggested with cold
insolence. "I need some one to brush out in the morning and to wash
windows when necessary."
The erstwhile hero of the Sixth Field Artillery felt his heart thumping
madly under his distinguished-conduct medal; but he had declared that he
would accept any kind of work, and he was determined not to have his
bluff called.
"All right, sir," he said gamely; "I'll start at that if it will lead to
something better."
"That rests entirely with you," said Mr. Bangs. "Report for work in the
morning."
Quin got out of the office with a hot head, cold hands, and a terrible
sinking of the heart. He had forged the first link in his chain--he was
an employee of the great Bartlett & Bangs Company; but the gap between
himself and Eleanor seemed suddenly to have widened to infinity.
CHAPTER 10
If the window-washing did not become an actuality, it was due to the
weather rather than to any clemency on the part of Mr. Bangs. He seemed
bent upon testing Quin's mettle, and required tasks of him that only a
man used to the discipline of the army would have performed.
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