DODGING A MAGNATE AND WHAT CAME OF IT
Next morning, good commuter that he was, Skinner made his customary
dash for his train. Honey was used to this, but she was not prepared
for what followed on this particular morning.
Skinner had only got halfway down to the gate when he saw Stephen
Colby's car coming down the road. Here was the multi-millionaire, with
whom he had talked on terms of equality the night before, making for
the Pullman end of his train--here was he, Skinner, in his shabby old
clothes. Would Colby recognize him or would n't he? First, Skinner
was afraid he would n't, then he was afraid he would. He decided not
to chance it. He darted back into the vestibule, drew the door half
to, and waited until the magnate's car had passed; then he emerged from
his hiding-place and made one of his characteristic heel-and-toe
sprints for the depot. When he got there, he hurried into the
smoker--the laboring man's club.
Skinner repeated this somewhat eccentric advance, retreat, and quick
dash maneuver for three successive days, dodging the formidable car of
the magnate, and hoping that Honey might not be at her customary place
at the front window to watch him off to his train. At first, he was
amused. It was a joke on himself, he thought. But repetition
presently dulled the edge of comedy. On the fourth occasion of this
apparently unaccountable behavior on Skinner's part, the "cage man"
began to meditate the matter.
Would he have to do this dodging act every day, like a fugitive, he
wondered? It was dawning upon him that his shabby clothes had made him
a fugitive from respectability. By jingo! He sat up straight as he
realized for the first time that he was the only poorly dressed
commuter of whom Meadeville might boast. He had prided himself that
he'd never given a cuss what other people thought of his clothes, so
long as his bank account was intact. By Jove! Perhaps he'd never
known what they thought because they were too polite to tell him!
If he'd had no one but himself to consider, Skinner would have made the
plunge and bought a new business suit right away--even in the face of
what that might entail. And his experience with the dress suit had
taught him that every purchase was fraught with complex possibilities.
But how could he spring it on Honey--chief guardian of the bank account?
Honey, too, pondered Skinner's curious dash out and back, the first day
he did it. She had her suspicions, but said nothing. She simply
waited until the following morning to confirm them. And when the whole
combination of circumstances--Skinner's advance, Colby's car appearing
down the road, Skinner's retreat--was repeated, it was as plain as an
open book to the perspicacious little lady. Dearie was shabby, and for
the first time in his life he had realized the disadvantage of it. She
was secretly glad, for she had always felt that Dearie's thrift with
regard to clothes was misplaced. But she could never get him to see it
that way. The mere flashing by of Stephen Colby had done more for
Skinner in that particular than years of affectionate solicitude on her
part. "Really," she mused, "some men have to be blasted out of a rut
with dynamite!"
From recent experience, Honey deduced that Skinner would shy at any new
purchase, with its ramifying possibilities. Then how to prepare the
way? Honey was an arch diplomat--and--Honey was a great cook.
Honey met Skinner at the door the evening of the fourth day and gently
drew him into the dining-room.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to the table. "Oysters!--and
later--beefsteak! Think of it! Beefsteak!"
Skinner noted with some relief that it was the same formula she had
used on a previous memorable occasion. What could it presage? Was it
possible that his soul and her soul had but a single thought? Had he
betrayed himself by his shuttle-like performance of the past four
mornings? Had she observed him, and was she "wise"?
The matter of the business suit was upper-most in the mind of each.
But as it was something that involved a further assault upon their
financial stronghold, it was a subject that must be approached with
great tact. Each, dreading an avalanche of reproach, waited for the
other to speak. And it was not until Skinner had finished his second
demi-tasse that he began, using the suggestive rather than the
assertive form of speech, a form frequently used in the "feeling-out"
process. He knew that he could tell by the way Honey received his
suggestion whether to go ahead or gracefully to change the subject and
save his face.
"I notice, Honey, that Colby and Crawford and the rest of that bunch
wear dark business suits," he ventured.
"Dark, but generally with a fine, threadlike stripe, and ties to match
always," Honey said softly. "And the simplest jewelry," she went
on,--"inexpensive jewelry!"
Then they both fell silent.
"I know what you're thinking about," Skinner ventured again, not
unwilling to shift the burden.
"What?"
"You want me to get a new business suit. Now, don't deny it."
He made the "don't deny it" suggest a warning, almost a threat. But
now that the ice was broken, Honey did n't take the plunge. Instead,
she felt her way in.
"You have n't had one for ever so long--and that was only a _cheap_
one."
"I would n't need one now if I did n't have to live up to that darned
dress suit you made me buy."
Honey sighed.
"Think of the cost," Skinner went on, still using the suggestive form
and leaving himself an avenue of escape, if necessary.
Honey threw her head back and looked resolutely into Skinner's eyes.
"Cost or no cost, you must have one!" Skinner had accomplished his
purpose and had at the same time avoided the odium of doing so. But
Honey had no such scruples. She had taken the initiative and she was
going to see the thing through to the limit. "But we must be very
careful about the socks and ties--for, of course, you know, Dearie, you
must get socks and ties," she went on. "I have figured it all out."
"You have, you fraud?" said Skinner.
Honey pouted reproachfully, and he hastened to add, "I, too, have
figured it all out."
"You fraud!" Honey came over and put her head on Skinner's shoulder.
"Are n't we the great little conspirators, you and I?" said Dearie, as
he stroked Honey's glossy hair.
"Yes, each one conspiring all alone by himself against the other."
Next day Skinner bought a new business suit, and accordingly jotted
down:--
_Dress-Suit Account_
_Debit_ _Credit_
Extension dress-suit plant!
One business suit! .... $50.00
The first morning Skinner wore his new suit to business, he left the
house for the depot with head erect. He did n't give a rap whether
Colby saw him or not. But good luck always attends the indifferent in
spirit. Colby's car flashed by and the multi-millionaire nodded
genially to the "cage man," which elated the latter, for he liked
Colby--felt that in a way he was a man after his own heart. But
Skinner was too wise to attempt to force himself on the magnate. If
there were to be any further cultivation of mutual acquaintance, he
resolved to let Colby take the initiative. He would wait.
As Skinner entered the office of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc., conscious
of his new clothes and suffering somewhat from stage fright, he sensed
something in the air of the great room that was devoted to the
fluttering femininity of the concern, something humorous. But as he
was a man of authority there, there was no outward manifestation of the
same. The messenger boys from outside, however, were not subject to
the rules of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc.
"Gee," Skinner heard Mickey, the "littlest," whisper to Jimmy of the
Postal, "pipe de new glad rags on de cage man!"
And Postal, duly impressed, admonished, "You better not burn any wood
in here now 'cause he'll git after you." Then, in a whisper, "He never
did before 'cause he never had any breeches on an' he did n't dare to
run out."
"How do you know dat?"
"You never seen him below de middle of his vest, did you?"
"From down here, lookin' up, wid dat winder in de way, I never seen him
much below his collar," whispered Mickey, the "littlest."
"Well, den, you never knew whether he had breeches on or not," pursued
the young logician.
Skinner's lips trembled as he overheard, but he took no official
notice. Instead, he frowned hard at his cash-book. But when the boys
had gone, he turned his face away from the fluttering femininity in the
big room and his form shook with emotion.
After a bit, he took out his little book and wrote:--
_Dress-Suit Account_
_Debit_ _Credit_
The best laugh I ever
had--in this or any of my
previous existences.
Later in the day, Skinner crossed to the office of Ransome & Company,
on a matter of business for the firm. There was no one there when he
entered but the office boy. But the youngster, from force of habit,
when he saw Skinner, the acquiescent one, said, "Mr. Ransome's very
busy this morning."
"So am _I_ very busy," Skinner jerked out. "Just tell him I'm here."
The boy looked at Skinner in surprise, then without a word shambled
into the inside office. Presently, a tall, pompous man entered and
looked about for somebody to take his name to Ransome. As the boy
emerged from the private office, he caught sight of this gentleman and
darted back. In a few moments he returned and spoke to Skinner.
"Mr. Ransome'll see _you_ just as soon as he's finished with this
gentleman," indicating the pompous one.
But the new business clothes had knocked all the acquiescence out of
Skinner. In their spic-and-spanness they fairly shrieked for respect.
"See here, boy," Skinner exclaimed angrily, "you tell Mr. Ransome that
I was here before this gentleman and that I want him to see me now or
not at all!"
"But--"
"Go!" said Skinner. "My firm is important if I'm not," he muttered as
the boy disappeared.
And as Ransome was seller to, instead of a buyer from, McLaughlin &
Perkins, Inc., he came out immediately, rubbing his hands.
"Why, Mr. Skinner, I did n't know you were in a hurry."
"Personally, I'm not," replied Skinner, "but my firm's time is
valuable."
"Of course--of course--come right in."
When he got back to his cage, Skinner jotted down in his little book:--
_Dress-Suit Account_
_Debit_ _Credit_
One victory over detested
office boy! Good moral effect.
Shan't waste any more time
hereafter just to accommodate
pompous individuals!
"Say, Mac," said Perkins at luncheon, "did you notice our Skinner's
brand-new attire?"
"Yes, Perk," said the senior partner, "and I 'm mighty glad of it. I
was always ashamed of him--the way he dressed."