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By Root 1440 0

might just walk in and get a job. But if he did, could he do the work well enough? He didn’t want it long, just to carry him over and bring in regular dough until he could get started on that course in traffic managing and find a place in something that had a real future in it. Still, from the looks of it here, wasn’t he wasting his time? But no, he ought to stick it out and see, since he’d waited this long. He slouched on the bench and noticed a roughly dressed Polack or Hunky whose face was deep with wrinkles, a coarse-skinned man of about forty-five or so with a dirty, tobacco-stained mustache. Reminded Studs of old Boushwah, the crabby old janitor he and the other guys had hated when he was a kid. And he’d be willing to bet that this Boushwah was as bad, and could hardly speak English. Such a guy had nerve looking for a job here. It perked up his own confidence. If such a guy thought he could get a job here, why shouldn’t Studs Lonigan have more right to think the same thing? What could he say? Should he talk big? Walk in like he owned the office and this whole building and say, I’m the nuts, give me a job? He could just see himself getting a job that way. He imagined himself really getting a job, and he saw himself wearing overalls, working his ears off in a gas station on a hot Sunday. Anyway, he would just walk into the office inside and talk naturally to the Personnel Manager. Of course, though, he couldn’t say that he only wanted a job for a short time. If business picked up for the old man, he could work with him, not painting, but just helping out. He knew enough about the business. But he was tired of it. What he really wanted to do was to be a high-class, well-paid traffic manager, and if he got this job, he would use it as a stepping stone to that.

But these other fellows? Were they as nervous and afraid as he was? And did they need a job as much as he did? Another exit. Another entrance. His turn very soon now. And what the hell would he say?

III

Behind a glass-topped desk, set diagonally on a dull, green carpet, Studs saw a thick-browed, full-faced, coldly efficient-looking man whose broad shoulders were covered by the jacket of a black business suit. He seemed to have the appearance of being fraternity and ex-collegiate, and Studs felt ready to give up.

“Mr. Lonigan, how do you do? I’m Mr. Parker,” the man said, arising and extending a large, hairy-backed hand.

“How do you do,” Studs mumbled, trying to act like an equal.

“Won’t you have a seat?” Mr. Parker said, pointing to the chair at the near side of his desk.

They sat down, and from the corner of his eye Studs glimpsed the wet, dreary panorama of Grant Park, the blackened driveways, the gray lake, half-smothered in thick mist.

“Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Lonigan?”

“Well, I thought I would come down to see you about a job,” Studs said, and the man’s disconcerting smile made Studs wish that he was anywhere else but sitting opposite this fellow.

“I don’t know if you are aware of it or not, but hundreds come here for that purpose every week.”

Studs smiled weakly, feeling that he was giving himself away and showing by his smile that he had no guts, but still he was unable to check it. The man quietly studied him, his penetrating glance making Studs feel even more hopeless.

“How old are you, Mr. Lonigan?”

“I’ll be thirty this coming fall,” Studs answered, glad for the question because it would lead to talk and break that sitting in silence while that fellow looked through him.

“And how is it that you happen to come to Nation Oil Company? Did somebody send you, or do you know someone already employed here?”

“Well, I just thought that it would be a good company to work for,” Studs said, hoping that his answer was satisfactory.

Studs felt as if he were a mouse in the hands of a cat while Mr. Parker looked down at his desk, toyed with his pencil. Then with a pointed glance he forced Studs to meet his gaze.

“When did you work last?”

“I’ve been working right along,” Studs said, heeding a warning thought not to show his hand or reveal that