“You don’t understand, sir. It’s those new tenants. The ones you rented the thirteenth floor to.”

Gladstone Jimm ground to a full stop and considered the matter. Ah. He understood. He began to beat swords into ploughshares.

“You mean—those fellows—um, Toombs and Boole?”

“That’s right, sir. There are desks and chairs and filing cabinets going upstairs. There are men from the telephone and electric companies. They’re all going up to the thirteenth floor. Only, Mr. Jimm, there isn’t any thirteenth floor!”

A pause. Then: “Any of the other tenants in the building been complaining, Blake?”

“No, Mr. Jimm, but—”

“Have Toot and Boob committed any sort of nuisance?”

“No, not at all. It’s just that I—”

“It’s just that you have been paying precious little attention to business! Blake, I like you, but I feel it is my duty to warn you that you are getting off on the wrong foot. You’ve been resident agent at the McGowan for almost a week now and the only bit of important business involving the property had to be transacted by the home office. That’s not going to look good on your record, Blake, it’s not going to look good at all. Do you still have those big vacancies on the third, sixteenth, and nineteenth floors?”

“Yes, Mr. Jimm. I’ve been planning to—”

“Planning isn’t enough, Blake. Planning is only the first step. After that, there must be action! Action, Blake; A-C-T-I-O-N. Why don’t you try this little stunt: Letter the word action on a sign, letter it in bright red, and hang it opposite your desk where you’ll see it every time you look up. Then on the reverse side, list all the vacancies in your building. Every time you find yourself staring at that sign, ask yourself how many vacancies are still listed on the back. And then, Blake, take action!”