Well, Deacon, he cried, extending his great hand heartily, so you decided to join the Elks. You ain't going to be sorry. It's the wisest move you ever made.
I hope you won't regret it, said Ambrose. You know I told you I didn't know what I could do.
Griesheimer waved Ambrose to a chair and passed the box of cigars. Again Ambrose accepted one and stuck it in his waistcoat pocket.
There, there, said the great man, patting his new employee on the back as he stood over him, I like your modesty. . . . He returned to the chair in front of his desk. . . . I like your modesty. To speak the truth that's one of the reasons I believe in you. We get too many cocksure, I'll-tell-the-world fellows out here, many too many. They come out to reform the indus— the art. . . . He chuckled. . . . They go back pretty sore. You're beginning right. Go ahead on these lines and you should come out fine. Now . . . he leaned forward eagerly, even greedily . . . what's your idea for a feature for Auburn Six?
I told you . . . Ambrose began.
I know, I know. . . . Griesheimer frowned impatiently. . . . There ain't no use going over that. Well, she ain't the only star on this lot, although she's our grandest bet just now. We got Dick Ruby, just about the best juvenile in the business, and Polly
