THE PARTY OF THE THIRD PART
“Something queer happened this afternoon,” were Harry’s first words, as
he and Teddy started homeward that night.
“Is that so?” Teddy shot a sidelong glance at his companion, then
sternly repressed his ever-ready grin. “What was it?”
“Oh, someone told Mr. Brady about Leon going to sleep in the bin. I
don’t know much about it. I don’t even know how it started. But Mr.
Atkins blamed me for it and gave me a terrible talking-to. Everything
has gone wrong since that boy landed in 84. I don’t care so much about
the scolding, but he told me I lied and that’s pretty hard to swallow.”
“Who do you s’pose told him--Mr. Brady, I mean?” Teddy tried hard to
keep his voice steady. He wanted to shout with laughter. His scheme had
worked. The next moment he began to feel extremely serious. He had not
reckoned on involving Harry in it.
“I don’t know. I suppose somebody besides me saw him asleep there.
Really, I’m glad of it. Mr. Atkins isn’t nice to me, anyway. What he
said this afternoon doesn’t hurt me because it isn’t true.”
“And you don’t care at all?” inquired Teddy anxiously.
“No, I don’t. Isn’t it funny, though? I said only yesterday that I
wished Mr. Rexford would catch Leon asleep in the bin. I got my wish;
only it was Mr. Brady who found him out instead of Mr. Rexford. Or else
somebody told Mr. Rexford and he sent Mr. Brady up to the stock-room.
He wouldn’t come himself for anything like that. But whichever way it
was, I had nothing to do with it.”
“But _I_ did,” announced Teddy, visibly proud of his achievement.
“_You?_” Harry stopped short in his tracks and stared incredulously at
Teddy. “Did you go to Mr. Rexford, or----”
“I did not.” Teddy glared offended innocence of tale-bearing. “What do
you think I am, anyway?”
“You are as clear as a dark night,” jeered Harry. “First you say you
did and then you say you didn’t. How am I to know what you mean?”
Teddy’s grin rivaled that of the famous Cheshire cat. “Some puzzle,” he
snickered. “I’ll bet you can’t guess who it was that told?”
“I sha’n’t try.” Harry rested a grateful hand on the red-haired boy’s
shoulder. “Whoever it was, you were back of him. You’re a loyal
pardner, Ted.”
“It was the dust man.” Teddy’s revelation ended in a gleeful chuckle.
“It was this way,” he continued. Then followed a detailed account of
his ingenious method of exposing Leon.
Harry could not help laughing immoderately as Teddy proceeded with his
story. “I don’t see how you ever happened to think of the poor dust
man. He has troubles enough of his own without being dragged into such
a scheme. You are a dangerous person, Ted.”
“He didn’t know he was the goat,” asserted Teddy humorously. “What he
doesn’t know won’t make his head ache. All I’m sorry for is that the
Atkins man jumped you.”
“Don’t let that worry you,” returned Harry lightly. “As long as I do my
work he can’t say anything very terrible about me.”
“I’m glad of that.” Teddy appeared vastly relieved. “If he gets too
smart, let me know. I might make _him_ behave, too.”
“You mustn’t try to fight my battles, old fellow,” objected Harry. “You
might get into trouble. I’m much obliged for what you did. It was kind
in you and you really did the store a good turn as well as helping me.
No one got hurt by it except Leon and it was coming to him.”
“It wasn’t anything,” deprecated Teddy. “I wonder what happened when
the Dustless Duster blew into the stock-room? I wish you’d find out’n
tell me.”
“I will,” promised Harry. “How are things going in your department? You
haven’t said much lately about that Mr. Jarvis.”
“Huh!” snorted Teddy. “The old Percolator is still percolating around
40. Now that the Clothes-pole’s had a good walloping, I’ve got to see
what I can do in the coffee-pot line. Mr. Everett’s been having an
awful time with him. He butts in everywhere and talks like a book about
efficiency and such stuff. He’s always bubbling up at nothing. Somebody
ought to can him and jam the lid down tight.” Teddy did not add that
he cherished fond hopes of being that “someone.” His method was to do
first and crow afterward.
For several days following his triumph in Harry’s behalf, Teddy
patiently lurked in Mr. Jarvis’ wake, the light of mischievous purpose
in his bright eyes. Thanks to him, Harry was no longer inflicted with
Leon’s slothful presence in the stock-room. Mr. Brady had decreed that
the idler should remain on the selling-floor where he would be under
close supervision. When sent on necessary errands to the tenth floor,
he was too rigidly timed to admit of his lingering there. Thus Harry
came into the luxury of deserved peace and Teddy turned his active
mind to a study of his own affairs.
The advent of Mr. Jarvis into Department 40 as assistant buyer had
announced the beginning of trying days for the inhabitants of that
useful realm. Nathan Jarvis was an efficiency crank of the deepest dye.
Furthermore, he had an ambition to rule, which a prospective king might
have envied. From assistant to buyer was only a step. Secretly he had
determined to take that step. In his own estimation he was far more
capable to buy house furnishings than Mr. Everett, and he purposed that
sooner or later those in authority at Martin Brothers should be made to
see it.
Their wits sharpened by constant contact with humanity, the salespersons
in 40 were not slow to see what was afoot. One and all they were up in
arms. Under Mr. Everett’s firm but kindly direction they had been happy.
He had treated them as equals, and they had ever shown their appreciation
by loyal, painstaking effort. He put them upon their honor and rarely
interfered with them. His assistant, Chester Willard, had also followed
his chief’s example. Now he had gone and in his place had bobbed up a
strange, unfriendly person who buzzed about the department like a huge
blue-bottle fly, and blazed a trail of rebellion wherever he buzzed.
Had those active in the management of the big store known the
disturber’s true character, Mr. Jarvis’ outlook would not have been
rosy. The “square deal” was among the most revered traditions of Martin
Brothers. Nathan Jarvis had been careful to create the impression of a
man eager and ready to make every moment count toward the good of his
employers. He lectured earnestly and convincingly to the superintendent
on the beauty and necessity of efficiency as an asset to commercial
success. Hailing him as a really valuable acquisition he was already
regarded by those who put result before method as a person of unusual
judgment and ability.
Black-eyed Teddy Burke, however, entertained no such fallacies
regarding the lively Mr. Jarvis. What he did entertain was a growing
desire to worst the usurper at his own game and thus glorify Mr.
Everett. While Mr. Jarvis secretly planned to oust the man who stood
between him and authority, Teddy was equally resolved upon displaying
Mr. Jarvis in his true character.
This was easier planned than accomplished. As a mere stock boy, his
influence amounted to less than nothing. But the will to wage war
amounted to a good deal. So did his respect for Mr. Everett. These
weapons, in conjunction with so devastating a force as the ingenious
Teddy, spelled breakers ahead for the ubiquitous assistant. To all
outward appearance the red-haired boy was innocence personified, but
secretly his mind was a maze of darkly designed pranks. He only lacked
the opportunity to let them loose on the offender and he was serenely
confident that said opportunity would presently knock at his door.
Late one afternoon, as he sat on the lower shelf of a table tightly
wedged between two immense stewing kettles, the sound of an unpleasantly
familiar voice smote his ears. It proceeded from the other side of the
very table under which he had crouched for a moment’s rest after a long,
busy day on his feet.
“What this department lacks, Mr. Seymour, is an efficient hand to guide
it,” purred Mr. Jarvis. “The old methods of doing things are rapidly
disappearing. To-day our motto must be, ‘Save time by eliminating
all unnecessary motion.’ Think what glorious results we should have
from this department if we adhered strictly to this rule. Since my
appointment here, I have endeavored to do this. But in the face of the
opposition which I am obliged daily to encounter from _all_ sides, I
find it uphill work. Mr. Everett is, unfortunately, of the old school.”
The assistant sighed audibly.
“You have the right idea, Mr. Jarvis,” was Mr. Seymour’s hearty reply.
“We need such men as you in the store. I am sure that Mr. Edward Martin
would be interested to hear your views in regard to the changes you
advocate in this department.”
“I hardly feel that I ought to go to him,” deprecated the assistant
modestly. “It might appear to Mr. Everett as though I were taking these
matters above his head. It puts me in a rather delicate position. You
understand?”
“Perfectly, Mr. Jarvis,” rejoined Mr. Seymour. “But don’t let that
trouble you. I will speak to Mr. Martin myself. My position here
insures me the freedom of doing so. I am sorry that Mr. Everett does
not uphold your views.”
“It makes my position here a trifle difficult.” Hypocritical sadness
lurked in the wily assistant’s answer. “If we could only work together
without so much needless friction, then----”
The remainder of this deceitful speech was lost to Teddy, as the two
men walked on up the aisle, unaware that a certain thin, ruddy-haired
youngster had been an unwilling listener to their talk. Teddy had
deemed it indiscreet to betray himself. It meant a double lecture on
lounging, which he felt he did not deserve. After a moment’s safe
silence had ensued a mop of red hair, followed by a small, tense body,
rose from its kettle fortress. Teddy watched the satisfied pair, as
they paraded the length of the department. He made a derisive face at
their retreating backs.
“So that’s the way he does it,” pondered the little boy. “No wonder Mr.
Everett got jumped on at the front when he tried to help Miss Newton.
The old, slippery Percolator is certainly working hard to get Mr.
Everett out of here. I s’pose eliminate means to cut out. I’ve got to
get on the job and do something for my best boss. I’ve got to begin my
Fall canning.”