Wood, an ordinary name that if you shout out on a busy street, at least four or five men would look your way.
The young man undercover around Lynch bore this sort of slightly old-fashioned name, simple, straightforward, with a trace of the past's flavor.
Of course, the name might seem a bit outdated, but it's much better than names like "Dick" or "Puxi," much better indeed!
After lunch, Lynch and those newspaper boys left early. Before leaving, he wrote a check for Richard, instructing him to help them find their footing a little.
Wood immediately got into character, "Richard, it seems like the Boss has something going on, do we need to help?" His face was bright, with a hint of sycophantic expression that made people comfortable, and he even flaunted his muscles a bit.
Richard just glanced at the check in his hand. He didn't like these musclemen. Speaking of muscles, every worker in the factory working shirtless had plenty.
