THE LITTLE THINGS DON'T COUNT
They's many a guy clutterin' up a pay roll for about thirty bucks a
week, which has got more brains than his boss has income tax. When he
went to school they wasn't a day that some other kid didn't wanna
murder him because he got 100 in arithmetic and the like. He passed on
to high school and even invaded college, where he dumfounded all in
hearing with his knowledge of--everything! When he was fin'ly turned
loose on a helpless world, he was so far ahead of his class that they
held special services for him and had the regular one the next day.
Now the dope oughta be that this marvel of intelligence should be down
in Wall Street now, tellin' J. P. Morgan and etc. that the next time
they come in late for work he'd fire 'em. Well, about once in ten
thousand times this is true. Usually, however, this guy is the bird
that takes your card at the office door and says, "Sit down, Mr.
Morgan's fifth assistant secretary will see you in a moment." And then
the head bookkeeper rings a bell and this guy says, "Yes, sir," and
jumps!
They is a reason for this, the same as for everything else outside of
the Kaiser. The swell-dressed assassin with the ladies, which writes
such beautiful figures and knows offhand how much is thirty-three times
eighty, is fast joinin' the list of non-essential industrials. They
got a machine now which can count better than him, and don't try to
make no date with the stenographer, either! He thinks his boss is a
boob, because said boss is a little bit in doubt as to what day of the
week Napoleon joined the army, and he wonders how in heaven's name a
guy as stupid as that ever got as far as he did. The answer to that
one is easy. While _he_ was memorizin' the fact that A plus C equals
X, his _boss_ was figurin' how to hire a brainy guy like him to count
his dough!
The wife and I are about to set sail for the movies one night, when our
French maid from the Bronx admits a interruption by the name of Alex.
"Well," he says, kidnappin' my goat by treatin' himself to one of my
pet cigars, "I have run across another feller which I am on the verge
of makin' a success. I've studied his case carefully and all he needs
is to be set on the right track to bust all speed records."
"Where did you meet this second-story man?" I says.
"He ain't no burglar," says Alex; "he's some kind of a bookkeeper, and
he's got one of the sweetest little girls in love with him you ever
seen!"
"I thought you was married," I says.
"Now," says Alex, snubbin' me as usual, "I want to bring him up here to
dinner to-morrow night and have you meet him as he is at present. In a
short time later I'll bring him back again, and if he hasn't made
himself a success, I'll buy you all the best dinner you ever eat!"
"Listen!" I says. "As Hoover says, 'Food will win the war--don't eat
it!' Don't be invitin' no more guys up here to dinner. It's tough
enough to have to feed _you_ three or four times a week, without you
ringin' in these guys which acts like I win them steaks and chops in a
raffle. Now I'm goin' to the movies. They's a five-reeler down at the
corner called 'She Give Her Soul!' and they ain't no man gonna keep me
from seein' that to-night."
"Come along with us, Alex," chimes in the wife. "A couple of my girl
friends which used to be in the Winter Garden with me is in this
picture and I'm crazy to see them!"
"Hmph!" snorts Alex. "Anybody is crazy which pays money to look at
them fool movin' pictures. If I had my way, they'd all be stopped
and--"
"Lillian Dish is in this one," butts in the wife. "Have you seen her
lately?"
"No!" says Alex, jumpin' up. "By mackerel, I haven't! Hurry up, we'll
be late--you people is never in time for anything! Lillian Dish, hey?
Say! Did you see her in 'What's a Wife?' She was great! Why I--"
I dragged the both of them out.
Promptly at seven the next night Alex comes up with his new-found
friend. I let forth a groan and told the maid to lay a couple more
plates, but to slice everything as thin as possible without cuttin' her
hands. The stranger was a tall, slim bird which wouldn't have been
bad-looking if he hadn't been so serious. He acted like it was a
felony to smile, and got my name wrong the first four times he repeated
it.
Well, after the sound of clashin' knives and forks had died away, the
wife dolls all up and goes over to visit the hero which wed Alex; and
us strong men repairs to the parlor, where the cigars clink merrily and
the like.
The stranger's name turned out to be S. Jared Rushton, and after a
while I figured the "S" stood for "Silly." This guy knowed more about
figures than the stage manager at the Follies. He was a hound for
numbers, dates and etc. He had a better memory than a loan shark, and
a encyclopedia would look stupid alongside of him. No matter what the
subject was, this guy knowed more about it than the bird which wrote it
and would butt in with the figures to prove it. Fin'ly, when I struck
a match and he tells me they is 9,765,543 of them used in New York
every fiscal year, I went out into the kitchen for air!
[Illustration: I struck a match and he tells me they is 9,765,543 of
them used in New York every fiscal year.]
At first it was kinda interestin' and entertainin' to get the inside
dope on _everything_ at practically no cost, but they is such a thing
as bein' _too_ clever; and when it become impossible to speak of
anything on earth from bankin' to beer, without this bird buttin' in
with all the figures on it, I got enough! I tried to yawn him into
goin' home, and he notices I got two bum teeth. That furnished him
with a scenario for tellin' me that every year 490,517 people is
treated by dentists in New York alone, and I says I can't help it and
he mustn't of got a wink or sleep the night he counted 'em.
"Oh," he says, "it's very simple. I carry all those figures in my
head."
"Why not?" I says. "They's plenty of room there!"
He looked kinda peeved; but before he could come back at me, Alex takes
things in hand.
"Jared," he says, "you are certainly a educated citizen. With all them
interestin' facts and figures in your head you must be very valuable to
the firm you work for, hey?"
Jared throws out what chest he had with him.
"Well," he says, "I saved the Hamilton Construction Company just
$6,547.98 last year by cutting down the excessive use of lead pencils
and blotters alone!"
"That's fine!" says Alex. "No doubt they give you a handsome bonus for
that, hey?"
"Of course," says Jared. "They raised my salary to thirty-five dollars
a week. I was only getting thirty-two and a half."
"You saved them six thousand last year and they raised you about a
hundred and thirty, eh?" says Alex. "Now, listen! Why couldn't you
have made that six thousand for _yourself_ just as easy?"
"Why--I--why--" stammers Jared. "I have no chance to make anything but
my salary. I'm simply working there, and--"
"And you always will be, if you don't get wise to yourself!" butts in
Alex. "Your boss--"
"My boss, eh?" sneers Jared. "Say, he hasn't got the brains of a gnat!
He'd be absolutely up in the air if I wasn't at his elbow with data and
estimates on everything. He doesn't know anything, and--"
"No, I guess not!" butts in Alex, with a odd grin. "He don't know
anything--only how to make money! Say, listen! If this boss of yours
is such a boob, what must _you_ be? You're _workin'_ for him, ain't
you? Why should he have any brains, when he can rent yours for
thirty-five dollars a week? Now, listen to me, son. You know a little
about everything on earth, with the slight exception of yourself! The
figures that should interest you more than anything else is these: For
every dollar _you_ make, your boob boss is makin' a thousand. Ever
figure them statistics along with the other stuff?"
Jared registers embarrassment. "Look here!" he says. "I really don't
see the reason of all this. I consider myself quite successful. I may
not be making a million a week, but I'm always sure of my job, and
that's quite a lot!"
"You're always sure of your job, hey?" bawls Alex. "That's the slogan
of the quitter! 'I'm gettin' my little old salary fifty-two weeks a
year, and that's good enough for me.' That's the motto of the loser."
With that he jumps up and sticks his face so close to Jared I thought
he was gonna bite him or the like. "What about the future?" he
hollers. "You must have brains, or you couldn't of collected that mass
of junk in your dome. You got a million dollars' worth of salable
stuff from the top of your collar to the crown of your derby and you're
peddlin' it away for thirty-five a week. I'll bet right now you could
produce a scheme for gettin' a quarter that would be unbeatable,
legitimate, and successful. But if you was asked to dope out a scheme
for gettin' twenty-five thousand dollars, the size of the figures alone
would knock that thinker of yours cold! You can't think that big.
Your mind's all cluttered up with little things. It's a junk pile.
The same concentration and perseverance on some one _big_ thing would
put you over--and if you don't believe it, ask your boob boss, which
undoubtedly did just that and is now keepin' you!"
"That's all rot!" remarks Jared. "There's about one chance in a
million of getting over in New York. You've got to get in right, and
even then it's largely a matter of luck! If I was ever asked, I'd tell
every young man to keep away from New York. The town's too big! It
swallows you up and you're buried there till--"
Zam!!! Alex bounces outa his chair and shakes his finger under Jared's
nose.
"That's not true!" he hollers. "Listen to me, young feller! I came
here a short time ago with one-tenth of the ability that you got. New
York looked as cold and hard to me as it does to any rube that slinks
in from the outlands, crazy with the desire to capture it. But instead
of drivin' me back to the dear old farm, the tough conditions here
_attracted_ me. That is, takin' for granted your statement that they
are tough, which I don't believe. I know that a man with the genuine
goods can deliver them here at top price quicker than any other place
on earth."
"But wait!" interrupts Jared, seemin' to catch some of Alex's pep.
"Your case was exceptional. You must admit--"
"I don't admit nothin'!" roars Alex. "Suppose your argument is true.
Let's say the chances for success here _are_ slim. All right, fine!
That's what made _me_ stick! Your own argument makes New York _the_
place to make good in. If there's satisfaction in winnin' over one man
or a thousand, think of a hard-won square victory over six millions!
Why, boy, the very quality of the competition here keeps a man on his
toes and, if he makes good _here_, he's _done_ somethin'!"
Well, believe me, when Alex wound up that speech they was so much pep
in the room I felt like goin' out and tellin' Rockefeller I'd forgot
more about the oil game than he ever knew! Jared looks kinda dazed and
Alex never gives him a chance to get set.
"How about--ah--Miss Evans?" he says; "have you thought about her?"
"See here!" busts out Jared. "We won't discuss Mab--er--Miss Evans."
Alex grins.
"That's fine!" he says. "I'm glad you got some spirit left; they's
hope for you yet! Let's see," he goes on, like they had been no
interruption at all, "how long have you known Miss Evans?"
"Over a year," says Jared. "But I don't see what--"
Alex points a finger at him.
"You love her, don't you?" he barks out.
"Of course I do!" mumbles Jared, like he's answering without knowin' it.
"Then why don't you marry her?"
Jared stares at him like he's in a trance.
"_Marry_ her?" he gasps. "Marry her? Why if I ever asked her _that_,
she wouldn't even let me call on her any more!"
"You're crazy!" remarks Alex pleasantly. "Now listen, son! You been
goin' around with that girl over a year, and if she didn't reciprocate
your feelin' for her, you wouldn't of lasted that long. Jared, old
boy, a year is too long to monopolize a girl without declarin'
yourself! You're spoilin' her chances, and it's dead wrong! They is
plenty of other young men which would give their left eye to take her
to the movies and the like, but they're layin' off because, havin'
always seen her with you, they take it for granted they is no chance.
That's fine right now for both of you; but if anything should arise
that would make you two part, it won't be as easy for her to replace
you. Now you need a incentive, and a strong one, to put you across.
They is no bigger incentive on earth than matrimony. Go to her and
ask--"
"One minute!" butts in Jared. "I never was talked to like this in my
life before, and why I'm permitting you to discuss my personal affairs,
I don't know. As long as I am, I'll go through with it. What you say
may be true, but this girl is different, and--"
"Jared," says Alex, "I don't doubt that she's different, but,
nevertheless, she's a member of the well-known female sex, and I'm
basin' my dope on that! I'll tell you what I'll do with you. You ask
Miss Evans to marry you, and, if she refuses, I'll give you a job
myself for fifty dollars a week; fifteen more than you get now. If she
accepts, you gotta raise yourself by your own efforts to fifty dollars
a week within six months, or go to work for me for twenty. Now if you
got some red blood in you, let's see it!"
Well, Jared gets up and walks around the room for a minute and fin'ly
he comes over and holds out his hand to Alex.
"You're on!" he says. "Only, I'll say this: If Mabel--er--Miss Evans,
accepts me, I'll be so happy that I won't be good for _any_thing for a
month. If she refuses me, I'll _never_ be any good any more! However,
I'll try it. Perhaps I've been asleep. I don't know. But if this
girl ever marries me--" He stops and bangs his fists on the table.
"Oh, boy!!!!" he winds up.
Just then they is a ring at the telephone. The maid makes a entrance
and claims Mr. Jared Rushton is wanted. In about five minutes, Jared
comes back and apologizes.
"My boss, Mr. Hamilton," he says. "I've always got to let him know
where he can get in touch with me after office hours. I gave him your
phone number before I came here to-night." He turns to Alex. "That's
what it is to be a valuable man," he says. "The boss wants me to get
all the data together for an estimate on one of the biggest contracts
we've ever had a whack at. That means I'll be up all night, so I'll
have to leave now. Our four big contract experts are scattered 'round
the country and the boss will have to go after this one himself
to-morrow. There will be a conference at the Hotel Dubois, and--"
Alex jumps up, his eyes flashin'.
"Why can't _you_ go after that contract?" he shoots out.
Jared looks like he's been hit on the chin.
"_Me_?" he stammers. "Why--why--"
"Why, why, nothin'!" butts in Alex. "Here's a chance for you to show
Miss Evans, your boss, and the rest of the world what's in you. If
your boss calls on you for the figures in this thing, then you must
know more about it than he does, or anybody else in the office. Can
you get him on the phone?"
"But--but I have never sold anything in my life!" says Jared. "You
don't understand this thing at all. It requires experience and--oh,
it's silly to even think of it! Why--"
"Yeh?" butts in Alex. "What's his number?" He rushes to the phone.
"Say, listen--please!" pleads Jared; "it's not a bit regular and--why,
he'd fire me out of hand if I ever did anything like this!"
"The number!" bawls Alex, with the receiver off the hook.
"Riverside 33,312," stammers Jared, wringin' his hands. "But look
here, you mustn't--"
Alex gets the number and Jared falls back in a chair, and mutters
somethin' about bein' ruined for life. In another minute, Alex is
announcin' to somebody that Mr. Jared Rushton wishes to speak to Mr.
Hamilton on a matter of the greatest importance. Jared lets forth a
wail like a dyin' fish or the like, and then Alex grabs him by the arms.
"Now, go to it!" he says. "Tell him you want a chance at this contract
yourself. Say you know more about it than anyone else and have been
plannin' the thing for weeks. You don't _think_ you can land this
contract--you _know_ it!"
"But," wails Jared, "I _don't_ know--"
Alex shoves him over to the phone.
Well, the funniest conversation you, I, or anybody else ever heard
begins right then and there. Jared starts off kinda weak and tremblin'
and I felt sorry for him, because from his answers it looked like a
cinch that he was fired. Pretty soon he gets a little stronger, and in
a few minutes he was talkin' like the boss was workin' for _him_! The
only way I can figure it is that Alex had hopped him up so much that he
got to where he believed himself that he was the only man on earth that
could land this contract. When Jared says if he don't get this chance
he's gonna quit his job right then and there and the boss can look
elsewhere for the estimate figures, I almost fell off the couch, and
Alex does a war dance.
Bang! Jared slams down the receiver and swings around on Alex.
"Well," he snaps out, "you've done it! I am to be at the Hotel Dubois
at eleven to-morrow to meet the representatives of one of the biggest
steel concerns in the country. I'm to take from them a contract
running into millions. If I don't get it, I'm fired. If I do get
it--well, there's no use talking about that part of it, because I
won't!"
With that he sinks into a chair and buries his head in his hands. Alex
keeps right on top of him.
"Fine!" he says, rubbin' his hands together. "Now call up Miss Evans
and ask her to marry you!"
"What?" shrieks Jared, bouncin' up from his chair. "What is this? A
nightmare? You've already probably cost me my job, and now you want to
wreck my happiness! I was a fool to listen to you. I--"
"Sure!" says Alex. "Let's get her on the phone right away."
Jared looks wildly around the room and grabs for his hat. Alex pushes
him back in a chair.
"Now, you listen to me!" he snarls, all the grin gone from him. "You
are at this minute facin' the biggest thing that's ever come into your
thirty-five-dollar-a-week life. You got a chance now to rise above the
mob. You also got a chance to marry what is the greatest girl in the
world, accordin' to your own admission. If you ask her to marry you
_before_ you go after this contract and she accepts you, think of the
confidence you'll have! Why, boy, if this girl says she'll marry you,
they ain't nothin' in New York can stop you from goin' over the top!
Go on! You're all worked up now--go to it before you get cold!"
Jared grabs up the phone receiver, pale as a ghost.
"By heavens!" he says. "I--you--if--Gimme Morningside 77,638, quick!"
Alex closes the door and pulls me into the other room.
"That there's gonna be private," he says.
"Where did you meet this Miss Evans?" I says.
"H'mph!" grunts Alex. "I never seen the girl in my life! Jared simply
told me about her, that's all!"
"Well," I says, "you certainly have balled things up. They ain't a
doubt in my mind but that you've made that poor boy lose his job; and
as far as I can see you're gonna make him lose his girl, too! I'd hate
to be you when he staggers away from that phone!"
"Yeh?" grins Alex. "Well, I'll tell you somethin': As long as I'm
goin' to all this trouble, I might as well get somethin' outta it.
I'll bet you ten thousand to five the girl marries him and he lands the
contract. If he loses either one, or both, you win!"
"Write it!" I says.
He hain't no more than handed the thing over to me, when in comes
Jared. His face is all flushed and he acts like a guy walkin' in his
sleep.
"I know neither of you will believe it," he says, in a far-away voice.
"In fact, I think I'm dreaming, myself!"
"What did she say?" demands Alex, shakin' him.
"She said yes!" hollers Jared, in a voice that must of woke up sleepers
in Kansas City. "Let me have my hat, I want to go over to her right
away!"
"Well, what do you think of my dope now, hey?" says Alex.
"I'll never be able to thank you for what you've done for me!" says
Jared, holdin' out his hand. "Why, just imagine! This wonderful girl
is going to be my wife and I had no more idea--Why, this girl is as
different from any other as--But you wouldn't understand--"
"I understand perfect!" says Alex, shakin' his hand. "And now the next
thing is that contract, which should be a cinch for you after what you
just done. Go over and see her now, but don't forget them figures on
the--"
"Contract?" butts in Jared, jammin' on his hat. "What's a contract to
me now? I'm going to marry the greatest girl in the world, man! Can
you imagine her accepting me! Oh, boy!!!!!"
With that he does a few little fancy steps around the room, throwing a
twenty-dollar pillow at Alex and a book at me.
This here's a new angle, and Alex grabs him.
"Look here!" he says. "I know you're in a hurry, so I don't want to
hold you up now; but you wanna recover from this here till you land
that contract! You'll lose your job if you don't, and you ain't gonna
start off married life outta work, are you?"
"I should worry!" sings Jared, still one-steppin' about the room. "I
can get another job--forty of 'em! I can get anything at all, now.
She's going to marry me, she's going to marry me!"
[Illustration: "She's going to marry me, she's going to marry me!"]
He dashes for the door, and Alex runs after him.
"What time is the appointment with the big steel men?" he shrieks in
his ear.
"What's a big steel man to me?" asks Jared, struggling to get away.
"What's anything? I'll bet she would have accepted me long ago if--"
"What time is that conference?" howls Alex.
"I care not!" sings Jared, throwing the phone book up in the air, and a
idiotic grin at me. "I'm going to have a quiet wedding and--"
I thought Alex was gonna choke him!
Personally, I developed a bad case of the hystericals.
"The time?" screams Alex.
"Eleven o'clock," says Jared.
"Will you promise me on your word of honor to meet me at that hotel at
ten to-morrow, in view of what I done for you?" says Alex.
"Sure!" hollers Jared. "I'll promise anything! Look what's been
promised to me!"
With that he breaks away from Alex and dives out the door.
Alex comes back and sinks down into a chair, wipin' off his fevered
brow with a handkerchief.
"That baby is a plain nut!" I remarks.
"Whew!" pants Alex. "I started somethin' now, that's sure! Still, I
don't blame the boy. I felt the same way when Eve claimed she'd wed
me, and I guess you did too when Alice went temporarily insane and
brung you into the family. If I can keep him keyed up to that pitch
to-morrow, he'll land that contract, and I'll land your five thousand!"
"He won't land nothin'!" I says. "He's gone nutty now, and you'll be
lucky if he shows up at all. This here's _one_ bet I win!"
"Yeh?" snaps Alex, gettin' up and reachin' for his hat. "D'ye wanna
take five thousand more of it?"
"No!" I says. "Good night!"
At nine forty-five the next mornin', which is practically the middle of
the night for me, Alex comes around and drags me outta bed. He says
he's goin' down and watch Jared put the contract over and he wants me
along to witness the losin' of my bet.
We are in the lobby of the hotel gettin' ready to have Jared paged,
when along he comes with some dame he must have kidnapped from the
Follies when Ziegfield was busy countin' up the receipts or somethin'.
I'll tell the world fair she was _some_ girl.
She's lookin' at Jared like he was the eleventh wonder of the world,
and he's gazin' back at her like she was the other ten.
"Hello!" hollers Alex, grabbin' Jared's hand and makin' believe it's a
pump handle. "Congratulations! I wish I felt as happy as both you
folks look!"
"You couldn't!" says Jared, still with that dazed look on his face.
"This is my future wife, gentlemen. We're on our way down for the
license now. Come on along as witnesses. We're going to be married
right--"
"What about that steel contract?" Alex butts in. "Did you get the
figures all together last night?"
"I did not!" says Jared. "What do I care about a steel contract? I
landed a bigger contract than that, and--"
"Pardon me," interrupts the girl, with her million-dollar smile. "What
is this contract regarding the steel?"
Alex tells her the whole dope from start to finish, and when he gets
through the girl turns to Jared and says the followin':
"Well, dear, I suppose this horrid old business could wait, but just
run up and land that contract for a--a--wedding gift for me! It
shouldn't take you very long. I'll wait here for you."
Oh, boy!!! Talkin' about "just runnin' up and landin'" a
million-dollar contract like she was sendin' him for stamps or the like!
"All right, honey," says Jared; "I'll be down in five minutes!"
They was _fifteen_ minutes partin'.
Alex and Jared and I got in the elevator, and on the way up Jared
talked about nothin' else but his comin' marriage. When Alex tried to
butt in and ask regardin' the estimate for this steel job, Jared gets
peevish and says that will be a cinch and is practically over with; but
what's worryin' him is the best place to go for a honeymoon!
We are met at the door of the room by a little bald-headed guy, and
Jared introduces himself. The little guy looks at us and says he
presumes we are Jared's associates--whatever that is. Before Jared can
deny the charge, Alex presents him with a kick on the shins and says we
are all of that.
Inside, they is a long table and four more guys sittin' at it. They
all look like Wall Street and large money, and the table is covered
with papers. Jared sits down and begins hummin' "Here Comes the
Bride," and we sit down beside him. One guy gets up and says they have
talked with five big contractors already, and they ain't made up their
mind which bid to accept. If Jared can show them somethin' better than
they've seen, the order is all his. Jared pulls out his watch and gets
up.
"Gentlemen," he says, "I have an appointment with my future wife in
five minutes. I will be on time! I don't know what these other
fellows have offered to do for you, but I'll say this: We can erect
your plant for exactly $1,789,451.92. That's our lowest price, and if
we talked all day I couldn't take off a cent! My concern is known all
over the country for the sterling quality of workmanship and materials
it employs on every job, whether it's the erection of a lamp post or a
city--and we've done both! We will be pleased to list you among the
thousands of our satisfied patrons."
With that he reaches for his hat and would of been out of the door, if
Alex hadn't held him back with a look.
"But," says one guy, "your figures are more than ten thousand dollars
over your nearest competitor's. How about that?"
Jared is starin' out the window.
"I figure we can get a nice flat in the Bronx for about eighty a
month," he says, half to himself. "What do you pay?" he finishes,
turnin' to Alex.
Alex says nothin', and the five guys look at each other kinda funny.
"When could your firm begin work?" asks one of them.
"Immediately!" says Jared. "I'm going to use your phone here for a
minute and telephone my future wife. She's downstairs waiting and will
be worried sick--I said I'd be right back!" He walks across the room,
while them guys all stare after him like they're in a trance
themselves. "Still," mutters Jared, "she mightn't like to live in the
Bronx at that!"
While he's on the phone, the five guys puts their heads together and
has a whispered conference. By the time he's finished, so are they.
"Mr. Rushton," says the little guy, gettin' up and clearin' his throat,
"we have decided to give you the contract. Your methods of
salesmanship are somewhat unusual--but they may be due to your extreme
confidence, which anybody can see is the right kind of stuff in that
line and--"
The little guy goes on with a lot of talk about figures, to which Alex
and me listens respectfully and Jared don't listen at all. And fin'ly
the little guy says again that they're gonna give Jared the contract,
and mebbe, if his future wife is waiting--
"Thanks!" says Jared. "She _is_ waiting and--"
"Shall we draw up the contract now?" butts in Alex. "They's a notary
on this floor."
In half a hour we are down in the lobby again, havin' had to hold Jared
by main force long enough to sign this thing. The first guy we bump
into is his boss!
"Where have _you_ been?" he hollers at Jared. "I suppose you've
botched everything all up. I'll be the laughing stock of New York!
Where are those figures for that steel contract?"
Jared looks at him for a minute like, Who is this person? Then he
reaches into his pocket and pulls out the contract.
"Here's your old contract!" he says. "I'm going to take a month off.
I'm going to get married. When I come back I want seventy-five dollars
a week to start and a job as head of the contract department. And,
also--don't never yell at me like that again."
I thought his boss would die of apoplexy then and there. He stares at
Jared, snatches the contract, reads a few lines--and then I got the
idea he was gonna kiss all of us!
"My boy, you're a wonder!" he says. "I always knew you had the stuff
in you! I'll discuss--the--er--the matter of your salary when you come
back."
"We'll finish it right now!" butts in Jared. "I don't want nothing
worrying me while I'm on my honeymoon. Do I get that or don't I?"
"But," stammers the boss, "your commission on that contract alone will
run--"
"Yes or no!" says Jared very cold.
"Yes!" says the boss, with a sigh that could be heard in Harlem. "No
wonder you landed that contract if you went after them that way! I've
been asleep!"
"No," says Jared, "I've been doing the dreaming."