THE GOLDEN SHOWER
TEN minutes later Snorky Green was standing in a daze, one hand on an
open Bible,--taken for the occasion from the room of the Pink
Rabbit,--and gazing into the flushed countenance of his roommate, who
was saying:
"Snorky, are you a Christian?"
"Say, what do you--"
"No matter--you believe in God!"
"Sure I do."
"Then swear!"
"Swear what?"
"Swear never to reveal to man, woman or child what I am about to
disclose to you."
"I swear!"
"As I am a Christian and believe in God."
"As I am a Christian and believe in God."
"And if I do may God strike with his afflictions those I love best--"
"Oh, I say--"
"Say it."
Snorky reluctantly subscribed to this terrible oath and five minutes
later the Secret was his.
"Great Jehosophat!"
"Do you see it?"
"Do I see it?" Snorky tore from his throat the collar that was stifling
him. "My aunt's cat's pants!" he said solemnly. "Skippy, we'll be
billionaires!"
"We'll buy a yacht and live on Fifth Avenue," said Skippy, who for
sentimental reasons suppressed any reference to Lillian Russell.
"Say this is so big we've got to take every precaution," said Green,
whose imagination was on more practical lines. "No one must even suspect
until we've got this drawn up and patented."
"That's what worries me."
Snorky Green cautiously opened the door and investigated the hall, then
returning drew up his chair and said in a confidential whisper:
"Skippy, when this goes through every bathtub in the country will go in
the scrap heap. Think of that!"
"I have thought of that."
"It'll do what the pneumatic tube did to the bicycle."
"What the trolley did to the horse-car!"
"It's revolutionary."
"It is."
"Enormous!"
"Stupendous!"
They shook hands and Skippy, bursting with happiness, said impulsively:
"Old friend, whatever I make--you're down for half."
"No, no. Two-thirds to you--one-third to me," said Snorky, as Caesar
putting from him the proffered crown.
"I won't have it--share and share alike," said Skippy in a rush of
emotion.
"But, Skippy, do you realize what even one-third will mean!" said
Snorky, in a voice trembling with the vision of the future. He went
nervously to the desk and returned with pad and pencil. "Write down
these figures."
"Ought we to?"
"We'll destroy it afterward. Put down ninety-two million."
"What's that?"
"The population of the United States."
"I see--ninety-two it is."
"Divide that by--by--well let's be conservative."
"It's better."
"Let's say there's one bathtub to every fifty-five inhabitants."
"I think that's too conservative."
"We mustn't let our imagination run away with us," said Snorky. "One in
fifty and then we're safe."
"Well, let's say two million bathtubs," said Skippy, who disliked
figures, and felt the first promptings of avarice.
"So be it. Two million bathtubs and on every tub our royalty!"
"What'll we ask?"
"What do you suppose a bathtub averages!"
"Say fifty dollars, at ten per cent,--that would be five dollars coming
to us."
"Five dollars, but Skippy, isn't that exorbitant?"
"You forget we'll be in a position to dictate."
"Holy Maria!"
Under 2,000,000 he wrote the figure five and slowly noted the colossal
result.
"Do you realize what that means?"
"It means ten million dollars!"
"No, it means more than that--it means that if the Bathtub Combine came
to us to-day and offered us a million dollars--it would be suicide to
accept it!"
Skippy's eyes dilated with excitement. Slowly he tore the sheet of paper
in two.
"Burn it--take no chances," said Snorky, who proceeded to light a match.
"And that's only the United States," said Skippy in a whisper.
"There's Canada and the British Empire!"
"But Englishmen carry rubber tubs with them."
"They can be educated."
"The French don't bathe," said Skippy mournfully.
"That'll come."
"Holy cats, Rockefeller won't be in it!" said Skippy, who was
suffocating. "Snorky, what I said goes! Money isn't everything.
No--sentiment's bigger. Fifty-fifty, I said, and fifty-fifty it
stands!"
"Then I'll put money into it," said Snorky, offering his hand. "I'll go
to my father. But not now--not a word until we get the patent. If any
one gets the idea we're lost!"
Skippy jumped at the sound of Butsy White's elephantine descent of the
stairs.
"And Skippy," said Snorky Green, with a sudden realization of a man's
frailties, "whatever you do--never tell a woman. You understand?"
Skippy, whose relations with the opposite sex were of the cat-and-dog
variety, solemnly raised his hand.
"I swear."
"Now to be practical. I say, Skippy, we do have to invent the regulator,
you know."