He rode in Cabooses, fought the Roller-Towels, endured the Taunts of
Ess, Bess, and Tess who shot the Sody Biscuit, and reclined in the
Chamber of Horrors, entirely surrounded by Wall-Paper, but what cared
he?
He was salting the Spon.
He was closing in on the Needful.
For a term of years he lived on Time-Tables and slept sitting up.
Day after day he dog-trotted through a feverish Routine of unpacking
and packing, and then climbing back to the superheated Day Coach among
the curdled Smells.
Every January 1st he did a Gaspard Chuckle when he checked up the total
Get, for now he owned two Brick Buildings and had tasted a little Blood
in the way of Chattel Mortgages.
One of the partners in the Jobbing Concern happened to die. Before
Rigor Mortis could set in or the Undertaker had time to flash a Tape
Measure, Aleck was up at the grief-stricken Home to cop out an Option
on the Interest.
Now he could give the Cackle to all the Knights of the Road who had
blown their Substance along the gay White Ways of Crawfordsville,
Bucyrus, and Sedalia.
He was the real Gazook with a Glass Cage, a sliding Desk and a whole
Battery of Rubber Stamps.
In order to learn every Kink of the Game, freeze out the other Holders
of Stock and gradually possess himself of all the Money in the World,
Aleck now found it necessary to organize himself into both a Day and a
Night Shift and have his Lunches brought in.
The various Smoothenheimers who were out on the Road had a proud chance
to get by with the padded Expense Account. Aleck could smell a Phoney
before he opened the Envelope, because that is how he got His.
With a three-ton Burden on his aching Shoulders, he staggered up the
flinty Incline.
Away back yonder, while sleeping above the Store, a vision had come to
him. He saw himself sitting as a Director at a Bank Meeting--an
enlarged and glorified Fishberry.
Now he was playing Fox and pulling for the Dream to work out.
The cold-eyed Custodians up at the main Fortress of Credit began to
take notice of the Rustler.
He was a Glutton for Punishment, a Discounter from away back, and a
Demon for applying the Acid Test to every Account.
He was a Sure-Thinger, air-tight and playing naught but Cinches. No
wonder they all took a slant at him and spotted him as a Comer.
The Business Associates of Alexander liked to see Europe from the
inside every summer and investigate the Cocktail Crop of Florida every
winter, so they allowed him to be the Works.
He began building the Skids which finally carried them to the Fresh Air
and left only one name on the Gold Sign.
Up to his Chin in Debt and with a Panic looming on the Horizon, it
behooved Alexander to be on the job at 7:30 A. M. and hang around to
scan the Pay-Roll until 9:30 P. M.
Ofttimes while galloping from his Apartment to the Galleys or chasing
homeward to grab off a few wasteful hours of Slumber, he would see
People of the Lower Classes going out to the Parks with Picnic Baskets,
or lined up at the Vaudeville Palaces, or watching a hard-faced
Soubrette demonstrate something in a Show Window.
It got him to think Dubs could frivol around and waste the golden
Moments when they might be hopping on to a Ten-Cent Piece.
His usual Gait was that of a man going for the Doctor, and he talked
Numbers to himself as he sped along and mumbled over the important
Letters he was about to dictate.
Those who were pushed out of his way would overhear a scrap or two of
the Raving and think he was Balmy.
The answer is that every hard-working Business Guy acts as if he had
Screech-Owls in the Tower.
Aleck had his whole Staff so buffaloed that the Hirelings tried to keep
up with him, so that Life in the Beehive was just one thing after
another, with no Intermission.
The Whip cracked every five minutes, and the Help would dig in their
toes and take a fresh lean-up against the Collars, for the Main Squeeze
was trying to be a Bank Director, and Rockefeller had stolen a long
start on him.
With a thousand important Details claiming his attention, Aleck had no
time to monkey with side issues such as the general State of his Health
or the multifarious plans for uplifting the Flat-Heads that he could
see from his Window.
Those who recommended Golf to him seemed to forget that no one ever
laid by anything while on the Links.
As for the Plain People, his only Conviction when he surveyed them in
the Mass was that every Man-Jack was holding back Money that rightfully
belonged to him (Alexander).
Needless to say, the battling Financier was made welcome at the
Director's Table and handed a piece of a Trust Company and became an
honored Guest when any Melon was to be sliced.
All that he dreamt while sleeping in the cold room over the Store had
eventuated for fair.
The more Irons in the Fire, the more flip-flops he turned.
He never paused, except to weep over the fact that some of the rival
Procurers were getting more than he could show. It was an unjust World.
Brushing away the salty Tears, he would leap seven feet into the Air
and spear a passing Dollar.
By the time he had the Million necessary for the support of a suitable
and well-recommended Lady, he was too busy to go chasing and too foxy
to split his Pile with a rank Outsider.
His Motor-Car squawked at the Sparrow Cops when they waved their Arms.
The engineer who pulled the Private Car always had his Orders to hit it
up.
Sometimes the Private Secretary would drop out from Exhaustion, but the
Human Dynamo never slowed up. He would shout his General Orders into
the Cylinder of a Talking Machine.
He reposed at Night with a Ticker on his Bosom and a Receiver at his
Ear.
When he finally flew the Track and blew out the Carburetor, they had
to use a Net to get him under Control so that he could be carted away
to the Hospital.
Then the Trained Nurse had to practice all the Trick Holds known to
Frank Gotch to keep him from arising to resume the grim Battle against
his Enemies on the Board.
He fluttered long before calming down, but finally they got him all
spread out and as nice a Patient as one could wish to see.
When he was too weak to start anything, Doc sat down and cheered him
along by telling what Precautions should have been taken, along about
1880.
"And now, I have some News for you," said the Practitioner, holding in
his Grief so well that no one could notice it. "You are going away
from here. Owing to the total absence of many Organs commonly regarded
as essential, it will be impossible for you to go back to the Desk and
duplicate any of your notable Stunts. No doubt we shall be able to
engage Six Men of Presentable Appearance to act as Pall-Bearers. It
is our purpose to proceed to the Cemetery by Automobile so as not to
impede Traffic on any of the Surface Lines in which you are so heavily
interested. I congratulate you on getting so far along before being
tripped up, and I am wondering if you have a Final Request to make."
"Just one," replied the Great Man, "I'd like to have you or somebody
else tell me what it's all been about."
The only remaining Fact to be chronicled is that the original Dollar,
picked up on the Circus Lot, was found among the Effects.
A Nephew, whom Alexander Campbell Purvis never had seen, took the
Dollar and with it purchased two Packs of Egyptian Cigaroots, Regal
size, with Gold Tips.
MORAL: A pinch of Change, carefully put by, always comes in handy.