On Ephraim admitting he was and agreeing with the judge the ladies of
the D.A.R. had the right to stop someone named Marion Anderson from
singing in Constitution Hall if they wanted to, the judge, running for
re-election, had told him to go and drink no more, or if he had to
drink not to beef about his bill.
"Ya got ya state bonus and ya N.S.L.I. refund didncha?"
Physically and mentally buffeted by his night in a cell and Silovitz's
revelation concerning the state of the nation, Ephraim stood frightened
by the present and aghast at the prospect of the future.
Only two features of his resurrection pleased him. Both were connected
with Gertie. Women, thank God, hadn't changed. Gertie was very lovely.
With Gertie sharing his board and bed he might manage to acclimate
himself and be about the business of every good citizen, begetting
future toilers to pay off the national debt. It wasn't an unpleasing
prospect. He had, after all, been celibate one hundred and sixty-one
years. Still, with rum at five dollars a fifth, eggs eighty cents a
dozen, and lamb chops ninety-five cents a pound, marriage would run
into money. He had none. Then he thought of Sam Osgood's letter....
* * * * *
Mr. Le Duc Neimors was so excited he could hardly balance his pince-nez
on the aquiline bridge of his well-bred nose. It was the first time in
the multi-millionaire's experience as a collector of Early Americana
he had ever heard of, let alone been offered, a letter purported to
have been written by the First Postmaster General, franked by the First
Congress, and containing a crabbed foot-note by the distinguished
patriot from Pennsylvania who was credited with being the founding
father of the postal system. He read the foot-note aloud:
_Friend Hale:_
_May I add my gratitude to Sam's for your help in this matter. I
have tried to convince him it is almost certain to degenerate into
a purely political office as a party whip and will bring him as
many headaches as it will dollars or honors. However, as 'Poor
Richard' says, 'Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will
learn in no other'._
_Cordially, Ben_
The multi-millionaire was frank. "If this letter and cover are genuine,
they have, from the collector's viewpoint, almost incalculable
historic and philatelic value." He showed the sound business sense
that, along with marrying a wealthy widow and two world wars, he
had been able to pyramid a few loaves of bread and seven pounds of
hamburger into a restaurant and chain-grocery empire. "But I won't pay
a penny more than, say, two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.
And that only after an expert of my choice has authenticated both the
letter and the cover."
Weinfield, the dealer to whom Ephraim had gone, swallowed hard. "That
will be satisfactory."
"E-yah," Ephraim agreed.
He went directly to 82nd Street to press his suit with Gertie. It
wasn't a difficult courtship. Gertie was tired of reading the Kinsey
Report and eager to learn more about life at first hand. The bastard
of Bastogne was less enthusiastic. If another male was to be added to
the family he would have preferred one from the Eagle or 10th Armored
Division or the 705th Tank Destroyer Battalion. However on learning
his prospective brother-in-law was about to come into a quarter of a
million dollars, minus Weinfield's commission, he thawed to the extent
of loaning Ephraim a thousand dollars, three hundred and seventy-five
of which Gertie insisted Ephraim pay down on a second-hand car.
* * * * *
It was a busy but happy week. There was the matter of learning to
drive. There were blood tests to take. There was an apartment to
find. Ephraim bought a marriage license, a car license, a driver's
license, and a dog license for the blond cocker spaniel that Gertie
saw and admired. The principle of easy credit explained to him, he
paid twenty-five dollars down and agreed to pay five dollars a week
for four years, plus a nominal carrying charge, for a one thousand
five hundred dollar diamond engagement ring. He paid ten dollars more
on a three-piece living room suite and fifteen dollars down on a four
hundred and fifty dollar genuine waterfall seven-piece bedroom outfit.
Also, at Gertie's insistence, he pressed a one hundred dollar bill into
a rental agent's perspiring palm to secure a two room apartment because
it was still under something Gertie called rent control.
His feet solidly on the ground of the brave new America in which he
had awakened, Ephraim, for the life of him, couldn't see what Silovitz
had been beefing about. E-yah. Neither a man nor a nation could stay
stationary. Both had to move with the times. They'd had Silovitz's
at Valley Forge, always yearning for the good old days. Remembering
their conversation, however, and having reserved the bridal suite at
a swank Catskill resort, Ephraim, purely as a precautionary measure,
along with his other permits and licenses, purchased a fishing license
to make certain nothing would deter or delay the inception of the new
family he intended to found.
The sale of Sam Osgood's letter was consummated the following Monday
at ten o'clock in Mr. Le Duc Neimors' office. Ephraim and Gertie were
married at nine in the City Hall and after a quick breakfast of dry
martinis she waited in the car with Mr. Gorgeous while Ephraim went up
to get the money. The multi-millionaire had it waiting, in cash.
"And there you are. Two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars."
Ephraim reached for the stacked sheaves of bills, wishing he'd brought
a sack, and a thin-faced man with a jaundice eye introduced himself.
"Jim Carlyle is the name." He showed his credentials. "Of the Internal
Revenue Bureau. And to save any possible complication, I'll take Uncle
Sam's share right now." He sorted the sheaves of bills into piles. "We
want $156,820 plus $25,000, or a total of $179,570, leaving a balance
of $45,430."
Ephraim looked at the residue sourly and a jovial man slapped his back
and handed him a card. "New York State Income Tax, Mr. Hale. But we
won't be hogs. We'll let you off easy. All we want is 2% up to the
first $1,000, 3% on the next $2,000, 4% on the next $2,000, 5% on the
next $2,000, 6% on the next $2,000, and 7% on everything over $9,000.
If my figures are correct, and they are, I'll take $2,930.10." He
took it. Then, slapping Ephraim's back again, he laughed. "Leaving,
$42,499.90."
"Ha ha," Ephraim laughed weakly.
* * * * *
Mr. Weinfield dry-washed his hands. "Now we agreed on a 15% commission.
That is, 15% of the whole. And 15% of $225,000 is $32,750 you owe me."
"Take it," Ephraim said. Mr. Weinfield did and Ephraim wished he hadn't
eaten the olive in his second martini. It felt like it had gone to seed
and was putting out branches in his stomach. In less than five minutes
his quarter of a million dollars had shrunk to $9,749.90. By the time
he paid for the things he had purchased and returned Benny's $1,000 he
would be back where he'd started.
Closing his case, Mr. Carlyle asked, "By the way, Mr. Hale. Just for
the record. Where did you file your report last year?"
"I didn't," Ephraim admitted. "This is the first time I ever paid
income tax."
Mr. Le Duc Neimors looked shocked. The New York State man looked
shocked. Mr. Weinfield looked shocked.
"Oh," Carlyle said. "I see. Well in that case I'd better take charge of
this too." He added the sheaves remaining on the desk to those already
in his case and fixed Ephraim with his jaundiced eye. "We'll expect
you down at the bureau as soon as it's convenient, Mr. Hale. If there
was no deliberate intent on your part to defraud, it may be that your
lawyers still can straighten this out without us having to resort to
criminal prosecution."
Gertie was stroking the honey-colored Mr. Gorgeous when Ephraim got
back to the car. "Ya got it, honey?"
"Yeah," Ephraim said shortly. "I got it."
He jerked the car away from the curb so fast he almost tore out the
aged rear end. Her feelings hurt, Gertie sniveled audibly until
they'd crossed the George Washington Bridge. Then, having suffered in
comparative silence as long as she could, she said, "Ya didn't need to
bite my head off, Ephraim. And on our honeymoon, too. All I done was
ast ya a question."
"Did," Ephraim corrected her.
"Did what?" Gertie asked.
Ephraim turned his head to explain the difference between the past
tense and the participle "have done" and Gertie screamed as he almost
collided head on with a car going the other way. Mr. Gorgeous yelped
and bit Ephraim on the arm. Then, both cars and excitement being new to
the twelve week old puppy, he was most inconveniently sick.
On their way again, Ephraim apologized. "I'm sorry I was cross." He
was. None of this was Gertie's fault. She couldn't help it if he'd been
a fool. There was no need of spoiling her honeymoon. The few hundred in
his pockets would cover their immediate needs. And he'd work this out
somehow. Things had looked black at Valley Forge, too.