Benny stood by the desk and waited.

“Did you get your receipt?” The voice was noncommittal. It was always noncommittal.

“Yes, sir. Right here.”

Pendleton looked at it, moving only his eyes.

“Why is it more than usual?”

“I collected it that way.”

“Why, may I ask?”

“Well, you see, Mr. Pendleton, when you gave me the territory I made a study of the place. I studied the way Paddy used to run it and how everything went Then I figured the territory could make more.”

“You figured?”

“Yes, sir. I figured it out.”

“Why?”

Benny hesitated for a moment because he didn’t understand. “To improve it,” he said finally. “I figured-”

“Tapkow,” said the voice, “I didn’t tell you to improve it.”

“You didn’t have to, Mr. Pendleton. I could tell-”

“How long have you been with us, Tapkow?”

“Seven years. You see, when I took over-”

“You took over?”

In the silence that followed, Pendleton never moved. Benny could see the space between Pendleton’s back and the chair and there was no movement one way or the other.

“What was your first job, Tapkow? Seven years ago?”

“Uh-messenger. Sort of a messenger.”

“And then?”

“Chauffeur.”

“And when you were my chauffeur you quickly adopted a number of additional duties. After that I sent you to Imports, and you were barely able to contain yourself there. Correct?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“And now you have Paddy’s job, correct?”

“Sure.”

Pendleton got up from his chair and looked down at Benny. “What, Tapkow, do you consider the real difference between being a chauffeur and running a territory?… Well, answer me!”

“There’s a hell of a difference. Look Mr. Pendleton, let me tell you what that district-”