SHOWING HOW FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS MAY DO THE WORK OF FIVE THOUSAND
At a total cost of twenty-five dollars, Mr. Wallingford made himself a
Prince of the Blood at the church raffle that night, throwing down bills
and refusing all change, winning prizes and turning them back to be
raffled over again, treating all the youngsters to endless grabs in the
"fish pond"; and Jens Jensen proudly introduced him to everybody,
beginning with the minister and Emil Kessler--the latter a thin,
white-faced man with a high brow, who looked like a university professor
and was a shoe-maker--and ending with Doctor Feldmeyer, who came late.
Wallingford's eyes brightened when he saw this gentleman. He was more or
less of a dandy, was the doctor, and had great polish and suavity of
manner. He had not been with Mr. Wallingford five minutes until he was
talking of Europe. Mr. Wallingford had also been to Europe. The doctor
was very keen on books, on music, on art, on all the refinements of
life, also he was very much of a ladies' man, he delicately insinuated,
and not one expression of his face was lost upon the Eastern capitalist.
It transpired that the doctor was living at Mr. Wallingford's hotel, and
they went home together that night, leaving behind them the ineffaceable
impression that the rich Mr. Wallingford was an invaluable acquisition
to Mr. Klug and his friends, to the community, to the city, to any
portion of the globe which he might grace with his presence. But when
the invaluable acquisition was left alone in his rooms he penned a long
letter to his wife.
"My dear Fanny," he wrote, "come right away. I have in sight the biggest
stake I have made yet, in a clean, legitimate deal; and I need your
smiling countenance in my business."
He meant more by that than he would have dared to tell her, but he
laughed and mused on Doctor Feldmeyer as he sealed the letter; then he
sent it out to be mailed and turned his earnest attention to the inside
of his sales recorder. This time he found the one little point for which
he had been looking: the thing that he knew must be there, and the next
morning, bright and early, he drove out to Mr. Klug's shop.
"Mr. Klug, you are in bad," he said with portentous gravity. "Look
here." And he pointed out the long, spring-actuated bar which kept all
the tickets from dropping back when they sprang up, and released them as
others were shot into place. "This is an infringement of the United
Sales Recording Machine Company's machine," he declared.
"Nothing like it!" indignantly denied the inventor, bristling and
reddening and puffing his cheeks.
"The identical device is in every machine they manufacture," insisted
Wallingford; "and I would bet you all you expect to make that before
you're on the market two days they will have an injunction out against
you on that very point. Now let me show you how we can get around it."
Mr. Klug reluctantly and protestingly followed his mechanical idea, a
logical application of the pneumatic principle, as he made it plain by
sketches and demonstration on the machine.
"Another thing," went on Mr. Wallingford. "It occurs to me that all
these little pistons multiply the chances of throwing your machine out
of order. Why don't you make one compressible air chamber to actuate all
the ticket pistons and to be actuated by all the keys, the keys also
opening valves in the ticket pistons? It would save at least five
dollars on each machine, make it simpler and much more practical. Of
course, I'll have to patent this improvement, but I'll turn it over to
you at practically no cost to the company."
Mr. Klug merely blinked. Six long years he had worked on this invention,
following the one idea doggedly and persistently, and he had thought
that he had it perfect. He had all the United Company's patents marked
in his copies of the patent record, and now he went through the more
basic ones one after the other.
"It is not there," he said in triumph, after an hour's search, during
which Wallingford patiently waited. One book he had held aside, and now
he put his finger quietly upon a drawing in it.
"No," he admitted, "not in the form that you have used it; but here is
the trick that covers the principle, and this patent still has four
years to run."
Carl examined it silently. In form the device was radically different
from his own, but when he came to analyze it he saw that Wallingford was
probably right; the principle had been covered, at least nearly enough
to leave a loophole for litigation, and it worried him beyond measure.
"Don't look at it that way," comforted Wallingford. "Only be glad that
we found it out in time. I'll apply for this patent right away and
assign it to you. All I'll want for it will be a slight credit on the
books of the company; say fifteen hundred."
Again Carl Klug blinked.
"I'll let you know this afternoon."
He needed time to figure out this tangled proposition; also he wanted,
in simple honor, to talk it over with his friends.
"All right," said Wallingford cheerfully. "By the way, we don't want to
form such a big partnership in a lawyer's office, where people are
running in and out all the time. I'll provide a room at my hotel. That
will be better, don't you think?"
"Sure," slowly agreed Mr. Klug. He was glad to decide upon something
about which a decision was easy.
"Can you get word to the others?" asked the promoter. "If not I'll go
around and notify them."
"Oh, they're going to meet here. They all live up this way except Doctor
Feldmeyer. You see him. I'll bring the lawyer along."
"All right," said Wallingford, quite convinced that a lawyer other than
Maylie would be secured, and after he had driven from sight he took out
his pocketbook and counted again his available cash.
He had a trifle over six hundred dollars, and in the afternoon he would
be expected to pay over the difference between five thousand dollars and
the fifteen hundred he was certain would be allowed for his patent.
Thirty-five hundred dollars! At the present moment there was no place on
earth that he could raise that amount, but nevertheless he smiled
complacently as he put up his pocketbook. So long as other people had
money, the intricacies of finance were only a pleasant recreation to
him, and it was with entire ease of mind that he set the stage for his
little drama at the hotel. He had Doctor Feldmeyer to await Carl Klug
and his friends in the lobby and conduct them up to a private dining
room, where the man of specious ideas, at the head of a long table and
strictly in his element, received them with broad hospitality. In his
bigness and richness of apparel and his general air of belonging to
splendid things, he was particularly at home in this high,
beam-ceilinged apartment, with its dark woodwork, its rich tapestry, its
stained-glass windows, its thick carpet, its glittering buffet. Around
the snowy clothed table were chairs for eight, and at each plate stood a
generous goblet. As the first of the visitors filed in, Wallingford
touched a button, and almost by the time they were seated a waiter
appeared with huge glass pitchers of beer. The coming of this beverage
necessarily put them all in a good humor, and there was much refilling
and laughing and talking of a purely informal character until Doctor
Feldmeyer arose to his feet and tapped with his knuckles upon the table,
when deep gravity sat instantly upon the assemblage.
"Since our host is already seated at the head of the table," said the
doctor with easy pleasantry, "I move that he be made temporary
chairman."
The doctor had lunched with Mr. Wallingford at noon, and now knew him to
be a thoroughbred in every respect; a _bon vivant_ who knew good food
and good wine and good fellowship; a gentleman of vast financial
resources, who did not care how he spent his money just so he got what
he wanted when he wanted it; and he was quite willing to vouch for Mr.
Wallingford, in every way, upon a gentleman's basis! The election of
Mr. Wallingford as temporary chairman and of Doctor Feldmeyer as
temporary secretary were most cordial and pleasant things to behold. The
lawyer, a dry little gentleman who never ventured an opinion unless
asked for it, and always put the answer in his bill, thereupon read the
articles of agreement which were to bind these friends in a common
partnership, whereby it was understood that Mr. Klug, in virtue of his
patents, was to have one half interest in the company, no matter to what
size it might be increased, and that the other gentlemen were to put in
such money as was needed to carry on the business, each one to share in
the profits in exact proportion to the amount of his investment. It
appeared to be the unsmiling consensus of the meeting that this
agreement was precisely what they wanted, and after it had been read
again, very slowly and distinctly, the simply honorable gentlemen
interested solemnly signed it. While this little formality was being
looked after, with much individual spelling out of the document, word by
word, under broad forefingers, the waiter filled the glasses again and
Wallingford turned to Mr. Klug.
"By the way," he asked, in a voice low enough to be taken as
confidential but loud enough to be heard by those nearest, "have you
told the gentlemen about the new patent?"
Jens Jensen, seated next to Mr. Klug, took it upon himself to answer.
"That is all right," he said, nodding his head emphatically. "We know
all about that," and a glance at the nodding heads about the table
disposed of that question. It was quite understood that Mr. Wallingford
was to have a fifteen-hundred-dollar credit for the invaluable addition
and correction he had made to their principal asset, the wonderful sales
recorder patent.
"Very well, then," said Mr. Wallingford, with a secret relief which he
carefully kept out of his voice, "as temporary chairman I would instruct
the secretary now to take the list of subscriptions."
A sigh went around the table. This was serious business, the letting go
of toil-won money, but nevertheless they would go sturdily through with
it. It appeared upon a canvass that Mr. Schmitt and Mr. Jensen and
Doctor Feldmeyer and Mr. Wallingford were each prepared immediately to
invest five thousand dollars, while Mr. Vogel and Mr. Kessler were each
ready to invest two thousand.
"Twenty-four thousand dollars," announced the doctor roundly, whereupon
Mr. Wallingford arose.
"Gentlemen," said he, "there is no use to have idle capital. This is
more money than we shall need for some time to come, and that is not
good business. I therefore propose that the total assessment from any
one member at this time be restricted to two thousand dollars. That will
allow Mr. Schmitt and Mr. Jensen, Doctor Feldmeyer and myself each to
keep three thousand dollars of our money in our savings banks, building
associations and other places where it is earning good interest, until
the company needs it, which may perhaps be a matter of six months. I
would like to have a vote upon this proposition."
There could be but one answer to this. Interest! The savings of all
these men throughout their lives had been increased at three, four and
scarcely to exceed five per cent. rates, and they had grown to reverence
interest almost more than capital. He was a smart man, this Wallingford,
to think of the interest!
Money was already appearing from deep pockets when the crabby little
lawyer, as if it gave him pain to volunteer information, wrenched from
himself the fact that before any money could be paid in some one must
be appointed to receive it. Thereupon, though not a corporate
association, they held an election, and, naturally, Mr. Klug was made
president. Mr. Wallingford firmly declined the vice presidency and also
the secretaryship. He might even have had the post of treasurer, but he
was too modest, also too busy, to hold office. No, he kindly stated, he
would be a mere investor, ready to aid them with what little advice and
experience he could give them, and ready to back them to any extent if
the time should ever arise when their own finances would prove
insufficient to carry the Pneumatic Sales Recorder Company on to the
undoubted success which awaited it! Thereupon the treasurership was
voted to Jens Jensen, and Emil Kessler proposed that they pay in their
respective assessments and adjourn. He had two thousand dollars of Carl
Klug's money in his pocket, and it made him a trifle uncomfortable.
"I forbid anybody to leave this room," laughingly announced Mr.
Wallingford, and gave a nod to the waiter, who disappeared. "We'll pay
in our money, but we have some other very important business."
Doctor Feldmeyer also became jolly, to show that he was in the secret.
He drew a fountain pen and a check book from his pocket.
"Mr. Wallingford wants us to eat, drink and make merry on the United
Sales Recording Machine Company of New Jersey," he told them as he
wrote.
The joke was thoroughly appreciated. It was a commendable and a holy
thing to conspire to get the money of a monopoly away from it, as every
newspaper proved to them. In pleasant pursuance of this idea, the United
Company, by methods that should proceed in comfort and ease and entire
absence of worry, such as was foreshadowed by this luxurious dining room
and by the personal grandeur of Mr. Wallingford, was to be brought
suppliantly to its knees; so, with the utmost cheerfulness, each of
these men paid over his subscription. Doctor Feldmeyer was the only man
among them who paid by check. The rest was in cash, but the host, busy
with his hospitable duties, held back his payment until the waiters
brought in a luncheon which was a revelation in the way of "cold
snacks." It was during this appetite-whetting, gayety-promoting
confusion that Wallingford quietly paid over his five hundred
dollars--this, with the fifteen hundred dollars' credit on the coming
patent, making his contribution total to two thousand, the same amount
as that put in by every other member of the company except Carl Klug.
This done, the clever gentleman surreptitiously wiped his brow and
sighed a little sigh all to himself. It had taken him three days to
figure how to fasten upon Mr. Klug's patent and prospects with as little
money as five hundred dollars!
It was a happy crowd that dispersed an hour later--a crowd upon which
Fortune already beamed; but the last of them had scarcely left the room
when their princely entertainer telephoned for his own lawyer.
"I want you," said Wallingford to Mr. Maylie, when he arrived, "to find
out all you can for me about the United Sales Recording Machine Company
of New Jersey. I want to know the outcome of every suit they have
brought against infringers of their patents, and the present addresses
of the people with whom they fought; also all about the companies they
have been forced to buy out. Got that?"
"I'll get it," replied Mr. Maylie confidently, and helped himself to a
glass of champagne. He looked longingly at the bottle as he finished his
first glass, but as Mr. Wallingford did not invite him to have a second
he went out.