"Why, that's strange." "Why is it strange ?" "Why," Tom Reade rejoined amiably, "everyone connected with the A.G.
& N.M.who knows anything at all about you credits you with being a member of the Colthwaite Company's gloom department." "Gloom department ?" gasped Ransom, with a wholly innocent-looking face.
"Oh, all right.

I'll bite.

What is a gloom department, anyway ?" "It's a comparatively recent piece of business apparatus," smiled Tom.
"It is employed by big corporations as a club with which to hit smaller crowds that want some of the business of life.

The gloom department might be called the bureau of knocking, or the hit-in-the-neck shift." "Is that what you accuse me of doing for the Colthwaite Company ?" asked Fred Ransom, his scowl deepening.
"Oh, the accusation isn't all mine," Tom assured him unconcernedly.
"Some of it belongs elsewhere." "Your suspicions are utterly unwarranted," retorted Ransom, choking slightly.
"It's a lot of comfort to hear you say so," Tom rejoined, as smilingly as ever.
"You're on the wrong track this time, anyway," Ransom asserted boldly.
"Still, I don't suppose you want me out here." "On the contrary, I greatly enjoy seeing you here," Tom declared.

"I'm very grateful for the praise you offered me a moment ago." "You're welcome," returned the Colthwaite agent, trying hard to smile.
"However, I won't take up your time.