"The United States Government," said Grimper tautly, "will assume all
expenses necessary for the expansion of your facilities. When the war
is over the plant, with all its improvements, will be turned back to
you. Meanwhile, a reasonable profit will be allowed you on all defense
materials produced."
"Gosh," gulped Hank enthusiastically, "that's swell! We won't let
you down, Mr. Grimper. If you'll give me a sort of idea what kind
of additional facilities you need, I'll git right to work on it. We
mustn't waste no time--"
* * * * *
Grimper coughed peremptorily.
"Er--that's just the point I was about to bring up, Mr. Cleaver. We
must waste neither time nor money. This war effort is far too important
to be disturbed by--ahem--other factors. That is why I asked Mr.
MacDonald to call you. You see, our organization has its _own_ Estimate
staff, composed of men trained to do precisely the type of work that
will be required here. Consequently, under the new set-up, you will be
an unnecessary cog in an already perfect machine. I--er--I trust you
understand, Mr. Cleaver?"
Hank stared at him, stricken.
"You--you mean you won't _want_ me here any more?"
"To be more accurate," replied the government agent, "we won't _need_
you. That is, in your present capacity. However, I have no doubt that a
man like yourself, familiar with all angles of the steel industry, will
find a niche--"
"But--but I ain't!" moaned Hank. "I wasn't in this business till a
couple of weeks ago!"
"What?" Grimper stared at him, then at the owner of the company. "I
don't understand, Mr. MacDonald. Isn't this man your Chief Estimator?
He must have had _some_ experience."
"Hank," confessed the Old Man, "was a puffessor."
"A--a what?"
"Teacher," said Hank miserably. "I taught stuff and things at Midland
U. Algebra, a little, an' general science, an' a smatterin' o' this an'
that."
"You mean that with such a background--"
"I know whut y'r thinkin'," interposed old MacDonald hastily, "and
'tisna so. Mr. Cleaver airned his job the hard way. The fairst day he
set foot in here I ordered him oot--but he's made me swallow my wairds.
Now I consider his sairvices invaleeable."
"Still," frowned Grimper, "Mr. Cleaver's talents are not sufficiently
remarkable to justify his presence on such a project as that which we
are about to embark on. We have our own engineers and mathematicians in
Washington. Why, _I_ am an efficiency expert, myself, trained to handle
emergencies--"
At that moment the office door inched open. The Old Man glanced up
worriedly. "Aye, Miss Cole? What is it?"
"Three of the shop foremen, sir. They say they must see you
immediately."
"Ye'll excuse me, Mr. Grimper? Verra well. Let 'em in, Miss Cole."
Then, as three grim and grimy men shouldered angrily into the room:
"Well, what's the motter? Don't stond there glarin' at each ither! Time
is money; speak oop!"
Gorman, foreman of the Maintenance Department, spoke for the trio.
"Well, it's the new tools we ordered, Mr. MacDonald. The shipment just
arrived--"
"Then what're ye blatherin' aboot? Ye've been howlin' blue murrder f'r
weeks because they were delayed. Divide 'em oop and get to wairk!"
"That's just it," fumed Hendricks of Testing. "They couldn't send us
our complete order, Mr. Mac. They sent only seventeen sets. And we
can't divide 'em up. They don't come out even."
"Even?" repeated Grimper superciliously.
* * * * *
Mulvaney, the Construction foreman, complained, "I'm supposed to get
one half of all materials ordered, sir, but I can't take a half of
seventeen. Gorman's supposed to get one third, and Henny's supposed to
get one ninth. Our problem is how are we going to divide them?"
Grimper said, "Er--aren't you gentlemen making much ado about nothing?
The answer seems to be very simple. Just open the crates and distribute
the tools in their proper proportions."
And he beamed at Old Mac triumphantly. But his grin was short-lived.
Gorman's sniff was one of pure disdain.
"Didn't you hear Henny say them tools come in _sets_?" he snorted. "I'd
look pretty, wouldn't I, Mister, screwin' a loose nut with one third of
a screwdriver? And Henny'd go to town measurin' rivet-precision with
one ninth of a caliper!"
Old MacDonald guffawed loudly.
"I'm afeared he's gawt ye there, Grimper. Hank, ha' ye any idee whut to
do?"
Cleaver had been scratching his cranium; now he said thoughtfully,
"We-e-ell, mebbe I have, Mr. Mac. Joe, c'n you borry another set o'
them tools from Supplies?"
Gorman said swiftly, "I can, but I won't. I want my full share of the
order, Hank. I don't want no debit against my department in Supplies--"
"There won't be. But let's suppose, f'r the moment, you _have_ borryed
a set. Now how many sets would you have?"
"Why--why, eighteen, of course."
"Sure. Now, Mike, you git half o' them sets. Nine, right? An' Joe, you
git one third, or six; satisfied? Bill, your department gits one ninth
o' the order--or two complete sets. Okay? Well, boys, there you are.
Evabuddy happy?"
"Everybody but _me_!" stormed Joe Gorman. "I've got a set of tools
charged against me in Supplies! That idea's all right for these lugs,
maybe, but I got my rights! I--"
"Now, take it easy," soothed Hank. "Two an' six an' nine is oney
_seventeen_, Joe. They's still one set left over. So now you can return
that one to Supplies!"
"Well, I'll be damned!" said Mulvaney.
* * * * *
And on that note of sincere (if profane) admiration, the department
heads disappeared to divvy up the disputatious shipment. With an air of
"I told you so!" Old Mac turned to a rather acid-looking Grimper.
"Y' see, Mr. Grimper? Indeespenseeable, that's whut he is! Ye maun do
weel f'r to reconsider this motter--"
But there was a streak of mule six feet tall and two feet wide in the
Federal man. He sniffed down his long, thin nostrils and studied Hank
through his _pince-nez_ with detached interest.
"Hrrumph!" he hrrumphed. "Very interesting, but not at all new, you
know. Hardly mathematics at all, in fact. A numerical paradox based on
an old Arabian legend, if I am not mistaken--"
I did what Flatbushers would call a "slow berl." In other words, I was
boined up. But while I was still striving for words, young Johnny Day,
who had entered from his office, came charging to Hank's defense.
"Maybe it's not mathematics," he raged, "in the pure sense. But it's
something more valuable--common sense! Any man who can pop up with a
quick answer to a problem like that is a handy guy to have around.
_You_ are an efficiency expert, Mr. Grimper, but _you_ had no solution
to offer--"
Grimper's lean jaw tightened. His eyes grew as cold as a ditchdigger's
ears in Siberia. Whatever slow beginnings of humanity might have been
wakening in his bosom died now.
"I am sorry, gentleman," he said in a tone of finality which meant he
wasn't at all, "but I am not convinced. I presume, Mr. MacDonald, you
_do_ want this Government order?"
"Notcherally," grudged Old Mac.
"Then--" Primly--"you must accept my decisions on questions of policy.
Mr. Cleaver, you are hereby granted two weeks in which to clear up
your affairs around this plant, at the end of which time your services
will no longer be needed. I trust you will find suitable employment
elsewhere...."
And he smiled, a mean, oily little smile. The heel!
So that, lads and lassies, was that. Hank was o-u-t on called strikes,
but if you think he just quit trying to do his share because a
fortnight's deadline was hanging over his head, you don't know old
turnip-torturer Cleaver.
* * * * *
The Northern Bridge, Steel and Etcetera still needed estimating, so
Hank labored straight on through till the last day, lending his
individual--if unwanted--talents. Thus it was that on the Saturday
afternoon he drew his final paycheck he had still not cleared out his
desk drawers and lockers for the next incumbent.
He told me so at dinner. I asked, "Well, what's the program, Hankus?
After we feed we grab a choo-choo?"