"This," growled the Judge, glaring at Jimmy, "is an outrage!"
"Agreed!" retorted Jimmy, at first sufficiently annoyed to have wished
that he and the Judge were in some situation where they might punch each
other's heads, and then, reverting to his habitual good humor, smiling
and finally emitting a chuckle. "You do seem to get in my way a lot.
Honestly, you've no idea what an annoyance you are to me."
"Annoyance to you? That's good!" growled the Judge. "I annoy you!"
"You do! You do!" retorted Jimmy. "I suppose you've caused me more
trouble one time and another than any other man I ever met. Isn't it
about time we buried the hatchet and forgot all about that joke of mine
up at Yimville? I've apologized in every way I could think of."
As if the reference to Yimville had proved unfortunate, the Judge's
face flushed with anger and he bent forward and shook a threatening
finger at Jimmy and declared, "I never make terms with a malefactor. If
you had an idea that I am the type of man to use as the butt for a
silly, asinine jest, I'll teach you to think differently. Mark that and
remember it!"
"Oh, come now!" Jimmy protested. "That's no way to look at things. It's
unbecoming of a man of your importance to cherish animosity for an
insignificant chap like I am. If we can't be friends, you might at least
be big enough to leave me alone."
The Judge snorted with contempt.
"How far are you going?" he finally growled, after a prolonged
inspection of the imperturbable Jimmy.
"Baltimore. Why? Like to get off where I do so you can keep with better
company than yourself? You can get off there if you wish. I don't own
the town."
This seemed the final straw to the camel's burden; for the Judge
suddenly popped up in his seat, called to the Pullman conductor who
happened to be standing at a little distance down the aisle, and when
the latter approached asked, "Isn't there any possible way of
exchanging my berth for another?"
"Yes, do help him out, Conductor," implored Jimmy with marked
solicitude. "He doesn't like me a bit."
The Pullman potentate stared at the two men incredulously, now that he
noted their physical similarity, and, accepting it as a banter,
remarked, "Can't see why twin brothers should disagree."
"I'll not brook any of your impudence," thundered the Judge in such
unmistakable anger that the conductor speedily became apologetic, and
consulted his book.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said; "a stateroom reservation ordered for
Harmonsville has been canceled. You are going through to Washington,
aren't you? Well, you can have that on payment of the extra fare."
"Let him have it. I'll pay the difference if he's at all short," Jimmy
urged, hopefully. "It's very kind of you, Conductor, because he's not
feeling at all well. What he needs is a long rest."
"What you need is a jail," growled the Judge, and ordered his luggage
removed to the vacant stateroom.
"See that the windows are closed, Conductor," said Jimmy. "He catches
cold so easily. Frightfully delicate and sensitive. Been that way since
he was but a dear little child. Do take care of him, won't you?"
But the Judge, purple with anger, stalked majestically away from his
tormentor without arriving at any adequate reply, and Jimmy was left
alone. In the gray, cold dawn of four o'clock the next morning, as Jim
followed the porter out, he paused behind just long enough to rap loudly
on the Judge's stateroom door and to explain, "Baltimore. I'm leaving
you now. Pleasant journey!"
But presumably from the Judge's remarks, this little parting courtesy
was not appreciated, although it afforded the cheerful Jimmy some
amusement as he made his way out of the station. Indeed, considering
that inhospitable hour of the morning, he was made fairly happy by what
the Judge said. Furthermore, to palliate the dreariness of the winter
morning, was the thought that now he could break the news of his
discharge to his mother because he could couple it with a hopeful
prospect.
For two whole days, and considerable portions of the nights, Jimmy
plunged headlong into his proposed organization of a sales and publicity
department for the Sayers Company, and his lively imagination stimulated
itself as his enthusiasm grew. Expert salesman that he was, and
untrammeled by traditions of the motor car trade, his originality found
full vent, and, all unaware of it, he proposed plans that would have
been seized upon by any progressive and daring firm in the automobile
industry. In fact "he builded better than he knew"; but, after his
manuscript had been duly typed and mailed, he suffered anxious hours
thinking of how this or that part of his scheme might have been
improved, and went through all that mental agony with which every
composer reviews his completed work when too late for alteration. At the
end of the second day's wait he became fearful, and at the end of the
third day was beginning to lose hope. On the fourth day he said,
somberly, "Well, Maw, I reckon it was a flivver! I've got to get back to
New York to-morrow and look for a job in my own line."
His optimism was being sorely tried; but his courage was still
unweakened. It was while he was packing his suit case on the following
morning that a telegram came.
"Meet me at Engineers' Club at noon to-morrow, Martin."
Even the message offered small consolation or encouragement; but it was
his way to hope for the best, so he whistled bravely as he left his
home. He put in all his spare time, after arrival in New York, in
visiting automobile agencies and studying as far as possible their
selling methods, and he absorbed information as a dry sponge thrown into
a whirlpool absorbs water. He made notes in his memorandum book after
each visit and soliloquized, "If nothing comes of the Sayers thing, I'll
have learned a whole lot more than I ever knew about this car business,
and some day it might prove worth while. I can at least walk up to a
motor car now and look it in the face and shake its hand as if we were
old acquaintances; I used to take off my hat to a taxicab, but now I
regard 'em as errand boys running here and there through the streets.
This car line is a mighty big game, after all."
And it was with this feeling that he entered the Engineers' Club and was
met in the hallway by Martin, who had just arrived.
"On time, I see--I like that," was the elder man's greeting. "Now, first
of all, we shall have lunch, because I'm hungry. I never talk business
during meals. I believe in relaxation."
"But--but--what's the use in eating when there's anything more important
to do?" asked Jimmy, eager to hear Martin's verdict.
"Nothing is as important as eating when one is hungry," was his host's
remark, and Jimmy had to be content. "Hope you had a nice trip out to
Princetown?" was Martin's next remark, and Jimmy gave him a highly
humorous account of what that nice trip was like, much to Martin's
amusement.
"This--this Granger person does seem to bear you a grudge," he
commented. "Have you made any attempt to calm him down by rubbing his
ears, or stroking his fur the right way?"
And then Jimmy became serious and said, "Yes, I did try to get him to
bury the hatchet when I met him on the train," and detailed that
unhappy conversation. "You see," he added, boyishly, "I didn't care much
what he thought of me; but I thought it was my duty to get the whole
affair wiped off the slate if Mr. Sayers decided to give me a chance. It
wouldn't be fair to Mr. Sayers to have a man of the Judge's influence
angry with one of the company's employees. If I get that place, I've got
to fill it well. I've just naturally got to do it!"
"Um-m-mh! Do you intend to tell Sayers all about it?"
"Of course I do."
"But--but suppose, after he heard the story, he declined to employ you?"
"I can't help that," said Jimmy ruefully. "It wouldn't be fair and
honest to take the place unless he knew all about my reputation out
there."
"Is it your habit to confide all your mistakes to your employer?" his
host asked, as if surprised.
"Of course," asserted Jimmy. "When I work for a man, I'm his and whether
he likes it or not he's more or less responsible for what I do. And,
what's more, I feel responsible for him. If anything fails in the goods
I sell, I'm as hurt over it as if I had made 'em. I worked for one man
I didn't like, and he didn't like me; but we got along for the sole
reason that we both believed in his line of stuff because it was honest.
It was the only thing we ever did agree on. And I suppose I'd have been
with him yet if he hadn't sold out to a company that began to make
inferior stuff to add to the profits."
After luncheon they found a secluded corner and Martin said, "Well,
young man, now we shall get down to brass tacks. I read that report you
made and I can think of a few objections you might have to meet before
you can get the position, and there are some other points that might
come up and require explanation."
And then, with shrewdness, he began his discussion of Jimmy's plan, and
no expert investigator could have made a more exhaustive examination
than he did. Jimmy's wits were sharpened by this catechism, and his
ideas improved and grew apace. He even admitted that he had studied the
sales methods of other firms and apparently gained the elder man's
approval for his activity and judgment.
The afternoon daylight had waned before they realized the passage of
time, and Martin consulted his watch and said, "So far we seemed to
have threshed this matter out pretty thoroughly; but there's one very
important detail you've neglected, and that is to state what you expect
in the way of salary."
"By jingoes!" exclaimed Jimmy, straightening in his seat. "I forgot all
about that. Do you know, I got so interested in working out this project
that I never so much as gave the pay part of it a thought?"
Martin laughed as if delighted by such an absurdity.
"Well," he remarked, "if that's the way you handle your private affairs
it doesn't look promising for whoever employs you. No, I'll retract
that, and on second thought reverse that judgment. I'll say that if you
invariably put your employer's interests before your own your sole
chance to succeed is to become a member of any firm you work for. I
suggest that you put that up to--Sayers."
"Don't quite get you," said Jimmy, as if puzzled. "You aren't having fun
with me, are you?"
"I am not," asserted the shrewd old business man. "I'm in earnest."
"But mightn't Mr. Sayers think I had an awful nerve? Perhaps he'd not
give me a chance at all and--I want that job because I'd like to prove
that there's a little more to me than a comic supplement. I need money,
but about the biggest reward a man can get is the absolute conviction
that he made good."
Martin studied Jim's face with a look of warm approbation, but Jimmy,
entirely unaware of the scrutiny, stared into the fireplace with eyes
that seemed glowing with big dreams.
"If I thought Mr. Sayers wouldn't think me a fool," he said, almost as
if to himself, "I'd like to have him give me a chance with these schemes
of mine on this basis: That I'd go to work for him for my bare living
expenses--I'd work for just half the salary I got from the Columbus
people--and that he would give me a percentage and all the increase of
sales. And--I'd like to take that payment in stock in the business, so
that if I did make a big success of it, I'd feel thereafter, year by
year, that I was hustling for myself as well as the Sayers Company."
"You know that it's not an ordinary corporation, don't you?" Martin
asked. "No? Well it's the closest corporation I know. Sayers owns
seventy-five per cent of it. His daughter is the next largest
stockholder, and his superintendent has practically all the remainder
which, by the way, was given him as a bonus for efficient work."
"Phew!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I didn't know Mr. Holmes was a stockholder, or
I'd have been more circumspect. Good Lord! I criticised the selling
organization and roasted it from top to bottom, and even told him one or
two things I thought might improve his plant. Just my luck! I'll never
get sense enough to keep my mouth shut about things over which I
enthuse."
"There's where you are wrong. The superintendent has given you the
biggest boost I ever knew one man to give another. He says you are the
livest wire he ever met and that the plant must have you at any price;
says that he never met a man in his life whose head was so filled with
new and original ideas and that half the time you had him dazed with
trying to keep up with you. So, you see, it paid you to be frank and
outspoken with him at least, and--Sayers thinks a lot of what that
superintendent says! I can tell you that."
He stopped, relighted his half-burned cigar, appeared to consider for a
time while Jimmy, waiting his friendly advice, watched him eagerly, and
then said, "Well, Gollop, I'll tell you something more. I've been
authorized to go fully into this thing with you, and to decide it. The
job is yours, on the terms you propose, save for this. You shall draw
exactly the same salary that the Columbus Company paid you. You shall
have a full year in which to prove that your management of your
department is good, or a failure. If you succeed, you're made for life.
If you fail you can expect nothing at all in the way of leniency from
old Tom Sayers, because he's as hard hearted an old wretch as ever began
at the very bottom and worked himself to wherever he now is by hard
knocks and worshiping efficiency."
Jimmy suddenly gasped, and then impulsively reached forward and clutched
the elder man's hand in both his own.
"I'm not going to fail," he said, simply, "because that would be a slam
on your judgment and--you've been mighty kind to me, Mr. Martin and--I
can't throw down a friend. If for no other reason on earth I'll make
good or bust myself trying, just because you got me the chance. I mean
it! I do! And----" He hesitated and then added, almost timidly--"I'm so
desperately eager to make a big success of this that--would you mind, if
I get worried, or doubtful--like a chap does sometimes if--if I came to
you for advice? You're so deucedly sane and wise, and the only thing I
seem to lack is plain horse sense!"
He was so ingenuous, so frankly in earnest, so open in his gratitude and
admiration, that Martin, square-jawed, taciturn, and repressed, turned
away to hide the sudden flash of liking that warmed his eyes.
"I'll take it as a favor if you'll ask my advice," he replied. "In fact,
I'll probably give you a darned sight more advice than you'll either
like or follow. Well, what are you going to do now?"
"Send a wire to my mother," said Jimmy, "You see, Maw's worried,
and--it'll make her so happy that I can't put that off for another
minute. Do you mind if I tell her that I got the job through your
kindness?"
"If you wish," said Martin, with a smile. "You can step to the desk over
there and find a form, and I'll have it sent from here."
Jimmy rushed to the desk and returned in a few minutes, with a jubilant
face. Martin took the message outside to have it sent and was compelled
to read it to settle a question of the count of words and read this
eulogium:
"Martin finest man on earth. Never knew any so good and kind. Got
Sayers job for me on better terms than I could dare ask for.
Glorious chance. Martin will help me make good. Marvelous fund
common sense. Can't fail when he so kind and friendly. Writing long
letter. Love. God bless you. Jimmy."
"Lack of gratitude certainly isn't one of his failings," thought Martin;
but somehow his face appeared neither harsh nor cynical, from which it
might be surmised that he was not at all displeased. He sauntered back,
rejoined his guest, and then said. "When do you propose to begin work?"
"I've already begun," said Jimmy, looking up at him. "Been thinking
about it since you left. But--I can't see just how I'm to do it until I
can meet Mr. Sayers and tell him all about Judge Granger. I think I
should go back to Princetown first of all and get full knowledge from
the superintendent of our technical advantages over all other cars. And
if I go back there Granger will have me pinched! Isn't it rotten luck?
What a chump I was! That man hates me because we look alike. It's not my
fault at all. I didn't make his lookings. If I had, I'd have tried to
make a better job of it. It seems to me that either he or I will have to
change his face. He ought to wear whiskers. A Judge without whiskers
isn't any good, anyhow, I reckon. So here I am with the biggest chance
of my life, and it's all mucked up because I can't get that chap to
forget that I helped him out with a single speech I made for him up at
Yimville. Why, if he had sense enough to appreciate it, I gave him more
free advertising than he ever had before in all his life! That apology
of mine should have made more votes for him than he'd ever have grabbed
through his own eloquence. I wouldn't harm him for anything and yet he
hates me. I tried to make it up when I met him. I went the limit. But he
was so sore he wouldn't even think of sleeping in the same section with
me, although I had the upper berth and never snore nor talk in my
sleep! He's a big man and I'm a slob; but all of that doesn't seem to
count with him. He can't forgive me because we look alike. If I were in
his place I'd feel sorry for the other chap. I'd hold conference with
him about our mutual predicament. I'd send him clippings from
interesting folks who make things for noses and tell how to grow
eyebrows and how to flatten ears and make wide grins into sweet,
diminutive smiles. I'd put him next to people who change gray eyes into
brown ones, and purple eyes into greens. What on earth am I to do to get
a passport into his state from J. Woodworth-Granger so I can keep my
job?"
He spoke almost tearfully, as if contemplating an unsurmountable
obstacle, but Martin appeared unimpressed by his woe. Indeed, he
chuckled as if amused.
"It might take time," he said, "to persuade the judge; but--suppose you
leave it to me. I have an idea that I can do it within a week or ten
days, or at least gain an armistice. And you needn't worry about Sayers.
I'll tell him how the matter stands. You can put in your time for a week
or two scouting around car agencies here in New York, and in the
meantime, can consider yourself employed. Meet me here to-morrow at
three o'clock."
Jimmy experienced several paradoxes in his surroundings when he stepped
briskly out of the skyscraper wherein he had been entertained. It was
nearly five o'clock in a dark afternoon, but the universe seemed filled
with sunshine; heavy flakes were falling softly, but they appeared rose
petals; men and women wore overcoats but the air was benignantly soft
and warm; each sputtering arc light had a rainbow or a beautiful halo;
street cars clanged, taxis honk-honked, the wheels of trucks screeched
and ground across paving blocks and metal rails; but the whole blended
into a strange triumphal march as if performed by some immense band of
music. Mr. James Gollop had to fight an impulse to sing, dance, shout
and altogether conduct himself with the improprieties that are
chronicled against one King David, who played on timbrels and recklessly
jazzed himself out of his job. Unlike King David, he came to his senses
in time to commune with himself and to admonish himself.
"Steady, Jimmy! Steady! Whoa there! Back up! Ca'm yourself! Ca'm
yourself. You've got the job, but there's a lot of work to be done
before you become part owner of the finest car on earth, the peerless
wonder of the transportation world, the winged victory of the roads.
Don't let your head swell, James. Better keep it solid bone than have it
turn into a toy balloon; because the latter can be pricked with a bare
bodkin."
But nevertheless his happiness was so great, his hopes so high, his
dreams so insurgent, that he longed, most fervently, to share his glad
news with someone. As he said to himself, "If I can't tell someone
pretty soon, I'll just naturally blow up! That's all there is to that!"
And evidently the "someone" he wished to make his confidant was pretty
well known in the back of his head, for he suddenly hurried out to the
nearest corner and boarded a car that would take him into old New York.
As the car came under the big electric sign reading "Gonfaroni's" it
shone up there in the heavens like a lighthouse to a homecoming mariner,
and he blithely stepped off and hastened down the side street to the
entrance of MacDougall Alley. It was dark, chill and deserted. Lights
shone through the cracks of one window at the far end, but the studio
which was his Mecca was rayless.
Jimmy stood for a long time in front of it, staring up at its darkened
windows, and derided himself for his pangs of disappointment.
"This can't go on any longer," he told himself, savagely. "To-morrow
I've just got to know Mary Allen's real name. I'm a big enough man
now--prospectively at least--to dare to walk into that Martha Putnam
hotel, glare at the ogress who guards the pearly gates, and tell her to
send my card up to Miss So-and-so and to step lively. Here I am, just
bubbling over with glad news like a tin tea kettle on a red hot stove
spouting steam, and I can't go uptown to that hotel and send up my card
because I've never had the courage to ask her real name. I've been a
coward all along, but now it's got to stop."
Nevertheless he did return to the uptown precincts and for a long time
stood guard in front of the distinguished woman's caravanserai, hoping
against all common sense that Mary Allen might appear. He remembered
reading an article in a Sunday newspaper on telepathy, and stood across
the street frowning at the Martha Putnam and concentrating his mind on
the object of his adoration, and beseeching her to come to the
elevator, and thence down into the cold street in response to his great
desire. But somehow the telepathy stuff didn't work at all according to
propaganda. He shut his eyes and tried more earnestly until aroused by a
voice. "Hey! You can't sleep in that doorway. Move on! Wiggle your
stumps!"
A fat policeman stood regarding him. Jimmy was discouraged, for he knew
that any policeman, anywhere, is an unfeeling wretch, who, if he met the
great god Cupid on the street, would promptly arrest that light of the
world for indecent exposure and perhaps carry him to the nearest station
by the tips of his golden wings as if he were but a vagrant chicken
destined for the sergeant's pot.
"Come! Fade away!" the enemy ordered, belligerently.
And Mr. James Gollop, crestfallen, faded.