MACNOODER OPENS VISTAS
TO Skippy's credit be it recorded that the first impulse was
humanitarian. For the second was distinctly mercenary. But then Skippy
lived in a materialistic age and Skippy's father owned a department
store. Yet the practical and profitable possibilities did not proceed
from any inward contamination of the generous impulse of invention, but
from contact and suggestion. At Bill Appleby's, where he wandered in
hungrily, in a desperate hope of meeting some friend whose memory could
be jogged by reference to past favors, he perceived the celebrated Doc
Macnooder in earnest conclave with Appleby, to whom he was offering to
sell the Lawrenceville rights of his latest invention, the Folding
Toothbrush. Given Bill Appleby's natural canniness, and Macnooder's
hypnotic eloquence, the discussion was apt to be long and difficult, so
Skippy hovered at a respectable distance with ears at attention.
At this time, due to a rift in the lute (a little matter of expert
accounting on a joint operation), the firm of Macnooder and the
Tennessee Shad had been dissolved and each financier had assumed an
independent and belligerent attitude. The Shad had a certain adroit and
devious imagination, but the practical mind was Macnooder. His point of
view was purely economic. Hickey might plan the daring manoeuvre which
made the conquest of the clapper possible, and revel in the faculty's
amazement at the sudden silence of the tyrant will. Macnooder would have
proceeded to capitalize this imagination by fabricating clapper watch
charms and selling them at auction prices. The Gutter Pup might organize
the sporting club in memory of the lamented Marquis of Queensberry;
Macnooder sold the tickets and extinguished the surplus. His ambition
was not to be a philosopher, or a benefactor. He announced openly that
he intended to be a millionaire, and among his admiring victims there
was much speculation as to just how far he had gone in the
accomplishment of his heart's ambition.
When Skippy moved into an eavesdropping position, the situation was
this: Bill Appleby, having carefully closed and locked the cash drawer,
was braced with both arms extended against the counter, eyeing Macnooder
with a look of steely negation that expressed a settled conviction to
doubt instantly any statement whenever or however made. Macnooder's
round capuchin body was drawn up in confidence and ease and the smile on
his face was bland as he remarked:
"Bill--get my proposition; let it percolate, sift down and settle. But,
Bill, make no mistake. The Macnooder Folding Toothbrush is a
fact--patented and financed! I'm not asking you to take stock,--no,
Bill, no." He shook his head and said with friendly regret--"I couldn't,
Bill; not in fairness to myself--not in fairness to my family. Why,
Bill, if you were to get in on the ground floor, you'd buy a yacht in
five years, live on Fifth Avenue and marry Lillian Russell."
"Go slow," said Appleby huskily, for Appleby was a bachelor.
"Well, watch _me_," said Macnooder with a wave of his hand that played
among the rubies and emeralds floating in his imagination. "Bill, I'd
like to put you in--I can't--that's flat. I can't! Why, Bill, if you put
your hand in your pocket this moment and took out that little green
wallet of yours and said: 'Mr. Macnooder, this is your account--it's
nothing--I dismiss it, I tear it to pieces--you are my guest from now
on; let's start right;--what will you have?' If you should say that--"
"I won't!" said Appleby, shrinking from the hypnotic caress in the
financier's manner.
"If you should do that _and_ should take out a nice new one hundred
dollar bill--you have one, Bill, right in that old leather wallet--don't
shrink, Bill, your alarm pains me--if you, now, here in Lawrenceville,
New Jersey, John C. Green Foundation, should produce that one hundred
dollar bill--slap it on the counter, shove it into my face, force it
into my pocket, beg me to give you a little interest--_no_! No, Bill,
no! I'd refuse--I'd _have_ to refuse. Don't build up any false hopes,
Bill, don't."
"I won't," said Appleby, yet already a sense of great personal loss had
begun to invade him.
"All I can let you in on are the regional rights--the Lawrenceville
rights--for ten years. I might, I don't say it flat,--I want to
consider,--but I _might_ extend them to Princeton. It's a gift, but I
might. And do you know why I'm giving you this opportunity of a
lifetime?"
"Why, Doc?"
"Because, Bill, I don't want to break you. I don't want to have to run
you out of business. That's friendship, but there's more. I can use
you," said Macnooder magnanimously. "You have the qualities I shall need
in my future operations--I suffer from them now but I appreciate them.
You will make an ideal watchdog of the dollar, and when the dollar
leaves your hand, Bill, there won't be a rim left to it. Bill, let's do
business--it's more than just the toothbrush, it's a whole future's open
to you. Bill, the moment is yours. Choose! Fifth Avenue, a yacht, box at
the opera--Lillian Russell!"
Appleby fumbled in his pocket and drew out a cigar to break the spell,
and the hand that held the match trembled.
"Wall, now," he began cautiously, "to-morrow's to-morrow, and
toothbrushes is toothbrushes. And say--gettin' down to tacks--who in Sam
Hill ever wanted a folding toothbrush, nohow?"
Macnooder's fist descended on a shivering glass counter as he cried
triumphantly:
"Say that again!"
"Wall, who does want a folding toothbrush?" said Appleby, in a more
bellicose manner.
"Bill, your hand!" said Macnooder, matching the gesture to the
exclamation. "Straight to the point. Keen--Gad, you're devilishly keen!
That's you, Bill, no one can beat you at seeing the kernel at once! Who
wants a folding toothbrush? No one!" said Macnooder, folding his arms
and beaming with delight. "Is there any reason any one should? There is
not. Can you imagine anything more unnecessary, idiotic or useless than
a folding toothbrush? Don't try--you can't. That's the beauty of it.
But, Bill, make no mistake--that's where you get the heterogeneous
sucker! Has there ever been a folding toothbrush! Never! That's where
they bite! Think of it--no one's ever had one before. How do they know
whether they want one until they've tried it? They've had a bicycle or a
kodak, but a _folding toothbrush_, Bill--think what it means! Get the
sound of it. Why, Bill, it's sunk into your imagination already! You've
got the hankering yourself. You have. I can feel it!"
"Wall, now, I would sorter like a squint at one."
"And you shall," said Macnooder, reaching into his pocket. But at this
moment he stopped, perceiving Skippy, who, lost in wonder, was
listening, all ears.
"I beg your pardon, Doc, honest, I couldn't help hearing," he said
hastily.
"This is a private conversation," said Macnooder severely.
"I say, Doc," said Skippy, gazing at the package which had come forth
from an inner pocket, "I say, Doc, can't I just have one look at it?"
"You can _not_," said Macnooder, whose hand indicated the exit in the
classic gesture of melodrama when the cruel father dismisses the
penniless lover.
Skippy drew a long breath, hesitated and went slowly out. But what a
world had opened before him! It was something to be a benefactor of
humanity, but why not tap the wealth of the Incas! If the mere invention
of a folding toothbrush could open the sacred precincts of Fifth Avenue,
what realms beyond the dreams of avarice were waiting for him who should
revolutionize the bathtub!