CHAPTER I CHAPTER I SHARP PRACTICE SHARP PRACTICE The young man in the swivel chair drummed with his toes against the desk, while he studied the gaudy fire insurance calendar on the wall before him. His pipe hung bowl downward from his lips, and the long fingers of one hand toyed with a legal document in his lap. The young man in the swivel chair drummed with his toes against the desk, while he studied the gaudy fire insurance calendar on the wall before him. His pipe hung bowl downward from his lips, and the long fingers of one hand toyed with a legal document in his lap. "Something new is hatching in this incubator," he muttered at last, dipping his pen in the ink bottle again. "And I think—I think it's an ugly duckling. Of course, it's no business of mine, but——" He looked up suddenly as a bulky figure darkened the doorway. "Hello, Jeff!" "Something new is hatching in this incubator," he muttered at last, dipping his pen in the ink bottle again. "And I think—I it's an ugly duckling. Of course, it's no business of mine, but——" He looked up suddenly as a bulky figure darkened the doorway. "Hello, Jeff!" Jeff Wray nodded and walked to the water cooler. Jeff Wray nodded and walked to the water cooler. "Mulrennan's been here to see you three times," said the man in the swivel chair. "Each time he's been getting madder. I wish you'd keep your appointments or get another office-boy. That man's vocabulary is a work of genius. Even you, in your happiest humors—why, what's the matter with your face?" "Mulrennan's been here to see you three times," said the man in the swivel chair. "Each time he's been getting madder. I wish you'd keep your appointments or get another office-boy. That man's vocabulary is a work of genius. Even you, in your happiest humors—why, what's the matter with your face?" Wray put his fingers up. Four red streaks ran parallel across his cheek bone. He touched the marks with his hand, then looked at his finger tips.
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