YOU CAN SEARCH ME
BY HUGH McHUGH
AUTHOR OF
"JOHN HENRY," "DOWN THE LINE WITH JOHN HENRY,"
"IT'S UP TO YOU," "BACK TO THE WOODS,"
"OUT FOR THE COIN," "I NEED THE MONEY,"
"I'M FROM MISSOURI," ETC.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY GORDON H. GRANT
1905
CONTENTS
JOHN HENRY GETS A PARTNER
JOHN HENRY GETS A SUFFICIENCY
JOHN HENRY GETS BUSY
JOHN HENRY GETS A SHOCK
JOHN HENRY GETS EXCITED
JOHN HENRY GETS A SETBACK
JOHN HENRY GETS A SURPRISE
ILLUSTRATIONS
"BRING US A PLAIN OMELETTE AND ONE DISH OF PRUNES."
TWO AND A HALF POUNDS OF IRON LANDED ON MY INSTEP
"YOU BETCHER SWEET"
THE ANSWER WAS A CREAM-COLORED HORSE WHICH LOOKED AT ME SADLY
A PRETTY HOT LINE OF GOODS, EH?
I WAS SO SURPRISED I DROPPED THE EGG
CHAPTER I.
JOHN HENRY GETS A PARTNER.
"Seven weeks and then the wedding bells will get busy for you, eh,
Bunch?" I chuckled.
"Surest thing you know," my old pal Jefferson replied, somewhat
dolefully.
"I must dig up a few old shoes and have a plate of cold rice
pudding on the doorstep," I went on. "It's going to afford me a
bunch of keen delight to soak you in the midriff with a rusty
patent leather and then push a few rice fritters in under your coat
collar, believe me!"
Bunch tried to pull a smile, but his face didn't feel like working,
and the finish was a mournful sigh.
"John," he said, after the waiter had crowded the sizz-water into
the wood alcohol, "I'm a plain case of shrimp!"
"Oh, sush!" I said; "you'll get over that, Bunch. Isn't it a hit
how we young fellows begin to warm wise to ourselves the moment we
get a flash of the orange blossoms. We think of the beautiful
little lady we are leading to the altar and then we think of the
many beautiful souses we have led by the hand, and we begin to ask
ourselves if we are worthy. Before we can get the right answer the
preacher has dropped the flag, the ceremonies are over, and after
that the struggle to supply three squares a day puts the boots to
every other worry; am I right, Gonsalvo?"
"I s'pose so, John," Bunch replied, "but it isn't a case of rattles
with me. I'm shy with the mazume, and it looks now as if that
little trip to the minister's will have to be postponed
indefinitely."
"Skidoo, skidoo, and quit me, Mr. Josheimer!" I suggested.
"I mean it, John," Bunch came back. "I can't lead a girl like
Alice Grey into the roped arena of matrimony when I haven't the
price of an omelette for the wedding breakfast, now can I?"
"Great Scott, Bunch, have you been Chadwicked for your roll ?" I
asked. "Are you the man from Ohio that was so polite he gave his
bank to the lady? If you are, it serves you right."
"No, John," Bunch answered mournfully, "but I had to go to
Washington on a business trip, and while there----"
"Wait, Bunch," I chipped in; "I've got you sized. While in
Washington you met a couple of wise voices who talked nothing but
sure-things, so you for the Bennings race track to spill your coin,
eh, Beau?"
"Well, John, I'll tell you how it was," Bunch tried to square
himself. "My roll was just five thousand strong, and I began to
wish for about two thousand more, so that I could take the little
wife over the wild waves and point out Paris and the Riviera to
her. In Washington I met a quick talker named Ike Gibson and he
played me for a good, steady listener. Ike showered me with
cinches and in short order I was down with Bennings fever. And
then----"
"I know the answer, Bunch," I sighed, "You followed Ike's clues and
finished fainting. I'm wise. But, say! Bunch, didn't you pipe me
with the neck bruises often enough in the old days to profit by my
experience? Didn't I go up against that horse game so hard that I
shook the whole community, and aren't you on to the fact that the
only sure thing about a race track is a seat on a trolley car going
in the opposite direction?"
"I know, John," Bunch replied, "but this looked awfully good to me,
and I went after it."
"Did they sting you for the whole bundle?" I asked.
"Not quite," Bunch answered sadly; "but they certainly put a crimp
in my wallet. I'm only $1,500 strong now, and that's not enough to
tip the porter on the honeymoon journey. You know, John, I'm only
drawing $100 a week from the brokerage business, and I'll get
nervous if I can't make up a purse quicker than that. I'll simply
have to go to Alice and Uncle William Grey and get a set-back,
and--say, John! I'm a polish, for fair! Alice is making all her
preparations, and has her mind fastened to the date, and all that
sort of thing, and like a chump I go up against that----"
"Oh, get back from the funeral, get back, Bunch!" I advised. "How
often have I told you not to cut a beef about the has-happened?
You went to Bennings, got dizzy, did a couple of Arabs and lose the
price of a wedding trip--that's all. Now we must get that money
back before the minister steps up to start the fight."
"How can I win out $3,500 in seven weeks, I'd like to know!" Bunch
moaned.
"A cincherine," I came back. "I've got a scheme cooking that will
put you and me all to the splendid in short order."
"Yes, but these schemes of yours sometimes get nervous
prostration," Bunch began to fret.
"Sush, now!" I said; "this is the real goods. It can't go wrong.
It's just like getting money from Carnegie. I've discovered a
genius."
"A genius!" Bunch repeated; "what kind of a genius?"
"His name is Signor Beppo Petroskinski, an Illusionist," I
answered. "And he's aces."
"What does he do?" asked Bunch; "spar eight rounds with the piano
or sell Persian rugs?"
"Nix on the hurry talk, Bunch," I said. "Petroskinski is a
discovery of mine, and he's all to the mustard. He's an
Illusionist, and he can pull off some of the best tricks I ever
blinked at. Say, he has Hermann and Keller and all those guys
backed up in a corner yelling for help. Skinski is our mint, and
we're going to take him out over the one-night stands and drag a
fortune away from Mr. and Mrs. Reub."
"You mean you're going to finance a tour for this unknown magician
and expect to win out? Say, John, don't let my troubles affect
your brain; I'll be good and stop crying!"
"I mean, Bunch, that Skinski is the wonder of the age, and all we
have to do is to show him to the public and they'll be handing us
their jewelry. You know, Bunch, I'm a few chips shy myself on
account of a side play which my wife knows nothing about. I
promised her to make a first payment of $5,000 on that new home
we're going to buy on the first of the year, and I fell down and
broke my promise. I thought I could drag the homestead money away
from the Street, so I took a few slices of Amalgamated Copper and
burned my thumb. Old Colonel Frenzied Finance didn't do a thing to
me. When I yelled for help my pocketbook looked like a last
season's autumn leaf in the family Bible. Peaches isn't wise that
I've lost my roll, so it's up to me to make good before she screams
for a receiver."
"But this Skinski proposition," Bunch groaned; "isn't that taking a
long chance? Clara J. was always bitterly opposed to you having
anything to do with a theatrical venture--what will she say?"
"Peaches needn't be in on this at all," I said. "We'll simply put
up a thousand each for the expense money, start Petroskinski, and
after the opening night began to gather in the mazooboes. When we
get all the money we need, we'll sell our interest and bow out.
It's a pipe, Bunch. I tell you, this Skinski has them all faded to
a whisper. He has a bunch of new illusions that will simply make
the jay audiences sit up and throw money at us. And as for
sleight-of-hand and card tricks, well, say! Skinski can throw a
new pack of cards up in the air and bite his initials on the queen
of diamonds before it hits the floor. He's a marvel."
"Where did you find him?" Bunch inquired.
"At a club smoker," I answered. "He was the hit of the evening.
He pulled a few snake tricks down there and in five minutes he had
all the members of the Highball Association climbing the water
wagon. That was the same evening I took Clara J. to the St. Regis
to dinner. Did I ever tell you about it, Bunch? Well, say, it may
help you to forget your troubles. It's a swell joint, all right,
O.K., is the St. Regis, but hereafter me for the beanery thing with
the high stool and the low prices.
"In the St. Regis the faces of the clerks and the clocks gave token
that much money changed hands while it was building.
"In the lobby the furniture was covered with men about town, who
sat around with a checkbook in each hand and made faces at the cash
registers.
"There are more bellboys than bedrooms in the hotel. They use them
for change. Every time you give the cashier $15 he hands you back
$1.50 and six bellboys.
"We took a peep at the diamond-backed dining-room and when I saw
the waiters refusing everything but certified checks in the way of
a tip, I said to Peaches, 'This is no place for us!' But she
wouldn't let go, and we filed in to the appetite killery.
"A very polite lieutenant-waiter, with a sergeant-waiter and two
corporal-waiters, greeted us and we gave the countersign, 'Abandon
wealth, all ye who enter here.'
"Then the lieutenant-waiter and his army corps deployed by columns
of four and escorted us to the most expensive looking trough I ever
saw in a dining-room.
"'Peaches,' I said to my wife, 'I'm doing this to please you, but
after I pay the check, it's me to file a petition in bankruptcy.'
"But she only grinned, picked up the point-lace napkin and began to
admire the onyx furniture.
"'_Que souhaitez vous_?' said the waiter, bowing so low that I
could feel a chill running through my little bank account.
"'I guess he means you,' I whispered to Peaches, but she looked
very solemnly at the menu card and began to bite her lips.
"'_Je suis tout a votre service_,' the waiter cross-countered
before I could recover, and he had me gasping. It never struck me
that I had to take a course in French before entering the St. Regis
hunger foundry, and there I sat making funny faces at the
tablecloth, while my wife blushed crimson and the waiter kept on
bowing like an animated jack-knife.
"'Say, Mike!' I ventured after a bit; 'tip us off to a quiet bunch
of eating that will fit a couple of appetites just out seeing the
sights. Nothing that will put a kink in a year's income, you know,
Beau; just suggest some little thing that looks better than it
tastes, but is not too expensive to keep down.'
"'_Oui, oui_!' His Marseillaise came back at me, '_un diner
confortable doit se composer de potage, de volaille bouillie ou
rotie, chaude ou froide, de gibier, de plats rares et distingues,
de poissons, de sucreries, de patisseries et de fruits_!'
"I looked at my wife, she looked at me, then we both looked out the
window and wished we had never been born.
"'Say, Garsong,' I said, after we came to, 'my wife is a daughter
of the American Revolution and she's so patriotic she eats only in
United States, so cut out the Moulin Rouge lyrics and let's get
down to cases. How much will it set me back if I order a plain
steak--just enough to flirt with two very polite appetites?'
"'Nine dollars and seventy cents,' said Joan of Arc's brother Bill;
'the seventy cents is for the steak and the nine dollars will help
some to pay for the Looey the Fifteenth furniture in the bridal
chamber.'
"'Save the money, John,' whispered Peaches; 'and we'll buy a cow
with it.'
"'How about a sliver of roast beef with some slapped potatoes,' I
said to the waiter. 'Is it a bull market for an order like that?'
"'Three dollars and forty-two cents,' answered Henri of Navarre;
'forty-two cents for the order and three dollars to help pay for
the French velvet curtains in the golden suite on the second floor.'
"'Keep on guessing, John; you'll wear him out,' Peaches whispered.
"'Possibly a little cold lamb with a suggestion of potato salad on
the side might satisfy us,' I said; 'make me an estimate.'
"'Four dollars and eighteen cents,' replied Patsey Boulanger;
'eighteen cents for the lamb and salad and the four dollars for the
Looey the Fifteenth graperies in the drawing-room.'
"'Ask him if there's a bargain counter anywhere in the
dining-room,' whispered Peaches.
"'My dear,' I said to Clara J., 'we have already displaced about
sixty dollars' worth of space in this dyspepsia emporium, and we
must, therefore, behave like gentlemen and order something, no
matter what the cost. What are the savings of a life-time compared
with our honor!'
"The waiter bowed so low that his shoulder blades cracked like a
whip.
"'Bring us,' I said, 'a plain omelet and one dish of prunes.'
[Illustration: "Bring us a plain omelet and one dish of prunes."]
"I waited till Peter Girofla translated this into French and then I
added, 'And on the side, please, two glasses of water and three
toothpicks. Have the prunes fricasseed, wash the water on both
corners, and bring the toothpicks rare.'
"The waiter rushed away and all around us we could hear money
talking to itself.
"Fair women sat at the tables picking dishes out of the bill of
fare which brought the blush of sorrow to the faces of their
escorts. It was a wonderful sight, especially for those who have a
nervous chill every time the gas bill comes in.
"When we ate our modest little dinner the waiter presented a check
which called for three dollars and thirty-three cents.
"'The thirty-three cents is for what you ordered,' Alexander J.
Dumas explained, 'and the three dollars is for the French hangings
in the parlor.'
"'Holy Smoke!' I cried; 'that fellow Looey the Fifteenth has been
doing a lot of work around here hasn't he?' but the waiter was so
busy watching the finish of the change he handed me that he didn't
crack a smile.
"Then I got reckless and handed him a fifty-cent tip.
"The waiter looked at the fifty cents and turned pale.
"Then he looked at me and turned paler.
"Then he tried to thank me, but he caught another flash of that
plebeian fifty and it choked him.
"Then he took a long look at the half-dollar and with a low moan he
passed away.
"In the excitement I grabbed Peaches and we flew for home.
"Say! Bunch! the only time I'll ever go in the St. Regis again
will be just after a hearty dinner."
"I guess you're right, John, but what about this scheme to win out
my wedding money?" Bunch queried. "I'm dreadfully nervous about
it."
"I know. Bunch, I know just how you feel. I'm quite a bit to the
St. Vitus myself, because if Clara J. ever gets wise that I've been
speculating again after faithfully promising her to cut out all the
guessing contests, she's liable to say something unkind. I simply
must get that money back, Bunch, before she knows I lost it, and
Signor Petroskinski is the name of our paying teller. I tell you,
Bunch, we can't lose if we handle this cinch right, and I've got it
all framed up. It's good for a thousand plunks apiece every week,
so cut out the yesterday gag and think of a fat to-morrow."
"I'd like to see this Petroskinski," said Bunch.
"I'll have him take luncheon with us to-morrow at the Hotel
Astor--twelve thirty. Are you for me to the finish, Bunch?"
"If you think it's all right I'll trail," said Bunch, and we shook
hands.
"But not a word to the home folks," I cautioned him.