TORCHY MAKES THE SIR CLASS Say, it's all right, gettin' the quick boost up the ladder, providin' you don't let it make you dizzy in the head. And, believe me, I was near it! You see, bein' jumped from office boy to private sec, all in one afternoon, was some breath-takin' yank. I expect the full force of what had happened didn't hit me until here the other mornin' when I strolls into the Corrugated gen'ral offices on the new nine o'clock schedule and finds this raw recruit holdin' down my old chair behind the rail. Nice, smooth-haired, bright-eyed youngster, with his ears all scoured out pink and his knickerbocker suit brushed neat. He hops up and opens the gate real respectful for me. "Well, Son," says I, "what does Mother call you?" "Vincent, Sir," says he. "Some class to that, too," says I. "But how do you know, Vincent, that I'm one of the reg'lar staff and not canvassin' for something?" "I don't, Sir," says he, "until I see if you know where to hang your hat."20 20 "Good domework, Vincent," says I. "On that I'm backin' you to hold the job." "Thank you, Sir," says he. "I told Mother I'd do my best." And with that he springs a bashful smile. It was the "Sir" every time that caught me, though. For more'n four years I'd been just Torchy or Boy to all hands in the shop, from Old Hickory down; and now all of a sudden I finds there's one party at least that rates me in the Sir class. Kind of braced me for swingin' past all that row of giggly lady typists and on into Mr. Robert's private office. Thrill No. 2 arrived half an hour later. In postin' myself as to what this Mutual Fundin' Company really is that I'm supposed to be workin' for, I needed some papers from the document safe. And for the first time I pushes the buzzer button. Prompt and eager in comes Vincent, the fair haired. "Know which is Mr. Piddie, do you?" says I. "Oh, yes, Sir," says he. "Well," says I, "tell him I need those—no, better ask him to step in here a minute." Honest, I wa'n't plannin' to rub it in, either. Course, I'd
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