I
I HAD not seen Perkins for six months or so, and things were dull. I was
beginning to tire of sitting indolently in my office, with nothing to do
but clip coupons from my bonds. Money is good enough in its way, but it
is not interesting unless it is doing something lively--doubling itself
or getting lost. What I wanted was excitement,--an adventure,--and I
knew that if I could find Perkins, I could have both. A scheme is a
business adventure, and Perkins was the greatest schemer in or out of
Chicago.
Just then Perkins walked into my office.
“Perkins,” I said, as soon as he had arranged his feet comfortably on my
desk, “I'm tired. I'm restless. I have been wishing for you for a month.
I want to go into a big scheme, and make a lot of new, up-to-date cash.
I'm sick of this tame, old cash that I have. It isn't interesting. No
cash is interesting except the coming cash.”
“I'm with you,” said Perkins; “what is your scheme?”
“I have none,” I said sadly. “That is just my trouble. I have sat here
for days trying to think of a good, practical scheme, but I can't.
I don't believe there is an unworked scheme in the whole wide, wide
world.” Perkins waved his hand.
“My boy,” he exclaimed, “there are millions! You've thousands of 'em
right here in your office! You're falling over them, sitting on them,
walking on them! Schemes? Everything is a scheme. Everything has money
in it!”