The train that ran up the branch line to Princetown was comfortably filled when the man wearing blue glasses and with his coat collar pulled up around his ears as if they were cold boarded it and found a vacant seat in the smoker, into which he settled with a sigh of relief. He had passed through a distressing hour when the main line train was delayed, fearing every moment that he would miss his connection to Princetown and thus make an unpropitious start in the estimation of Sayers. And a very different traveler was this from the jovial Mr. Gollop who customarily sought information on all points pertaining to the country through which he passed, for now he was like the Irish section boss who sternly warned his garrulous men with, "All we want is silence; and damned little of that!" He was about to arise and discard his overcoat, when suddenly he subsided with a gasp. Two men had enteredthe coach and taken the unoccupied seat immediately in front of him and one of them was Judge J. Woodworth-Granger.
Jimmy looked for another place, but none was vacant. The train began to move and the fact that other men came through in quest of a seat, found none and stood up, convinced Jim of the futility of searching other coaches. The car speedily filled with smoke and got hotter. No one seemed to care for ventilation. Jim's overcoat gave him the pleasant feeling of sitting in a sweat bath but he dared not doff it. The Judge's voice, loud and slow, floated back to his ears, and his previous discomfort was as nothing when he heard the Judge say, as if in response to some comment of his traveling companion, "No, of course not! Gollop! I'm so sick of hearing that man's name that I could wish it banned. His apologies only made matters worse, because there are idiots in this state who actually took that flagrant outrage as a joke! And you have observed what capital the Democratic press are making of it? They declare now that I'm vindictive because I got the scoundrel discharged! As if a citizen had not the right to protect himself from the villainous impositions of a coarse,low-browed ignoramus who turns everything into a practical jest. And, what is more, if ever that man enters the state jurisdiction I'll bring the law to bear and make an example of him that will forever deter other miscreants from such enterprises. That man Gollop has done me an incredible amount of damage!"
Jimmy wriggled and twisted in his seat.
"By jingoes!" he said to himself. "I'm like that old fellow at the town meeting. I've just got to get out of this; because if that geezer ever spots me, the only steady job I'll ever get in this state will be breaking stone!" And so, to the relief of his seat companion, he seized his bag, as if about to approach his destination, slid hurriedly out into the aisle with an averted glance, and fled from the coach and back through the train. Standing in an aisle for an hour was preferable to the risks of having the angry Judge turn in his seat and recognize him. A place on the blind baggage platform, enshrouded in cinders and fanned by the frosty winds would have been comfortable compared with that seat. He went, in a panic, through the entire train and did not stop until he reached the rear platform and closed the door behind him. He breathed asigh of relief and for the first time that day felt cool. A brakeman jerked the door open behind him and said, "Hey! You can't stand out there! Against the rules! Can't you read that metal sign on the door that says it's forbidden?"
Jimmy turned and faced his tormentor.
"Please—please let me stand here! I'm sick, man. I'm sick! Forget the rules. Here, take this and buy a drink of lemonade when you get to Princetown if you can't get a prescription for something better from the doctor!" And he extricated a five dollar bill from his diminishing bankroll and tendered it.
"For that," said the brakeman with a grin, "I'd let you ride on the tin roof!" and banged the door shut and stood guard with his back against it.
At intervals the local train stopped and emitted passengers, but Mr. James Gollop clung to his platform as if having no frantic longing for a seat. And at Princetown he patiently waited until the crowd thinned, and with one eye glared through blue glasses forward to make certain of the Judge's departure. He descended from his perch and looked anxiously around to meet the inquiring stare of a man who was evidently in waiting, and toward him rushed as to a refuge.
"Are you looking for anyone?" Jim asked, and added, "because if you're from the Sayers works——"
"Mister, I'm just doin' that same thing," the man replied. "I'd 'most given you up. Thought you didn't ketch the train. Come on out this way. I got her hitched to the end of the platform."
Jimmy carried his bag and followed his guide, who stowed him into the depths of a car, threw the switch of an electric starter, deftly let in the clutch, and the smart little machine picked up and slid away. For the first time for hours Jimmy breathed a great sigh of relief; but so apprehensive of accidents was he that while they passed through the town he shrank into his coat as a turtle shrinks modestly into its shell. He was terrified lest the man have some cause to stop in front of a shop. All he craved was the country, and a whole lot of it, with untenanted roads.
Out at the works he produced his letters as a passport. The big office thrummed with typewriters and activity. From outside came the strident sounds of industry and somehow theycheered and encouraged him. His bouyant nature leapt to the call. He was eager to become part of it, and to be identified with it. He forgot his tribulations and was Jimmy Gollop again when led through an opened door into the presence of Mr. Holmes, general superintendent. The man arose to meet him and thrust out a firm hand.
"So you are Mr. Gollop, eh? Name's familiar around these parts. Hope you're not the chap that played the joke on old Granger, because if you are—well—you'd better stay away from Princetown, is all I've got to say!" And his laugh was so free and hearty that Jimmy acted on intuition and whispered most ruefully, "By heck! I am! Help me out, can't you? They'd——"
"Tar and feather you!" laughed the superintendent. "But—are you really the famous Mr. Gollop? Those spectacles——"
Jimmy dared all and swept them off. The superintendent scrutinized him closely and then exclaimed, "Well, upon my word, it's remarkable! You do look like the Judge's twin. What on earth made you look like that old stiff? You two must have come from the standardized facefactory. If I looked like him, I'd be sad. But I hope to heavens you aren't like him. I've as much use for him as I have for a three legged elephant with an affectionate disposition who is looking for someone to lean on for support. Well, now to business. I got a telegram explaining things. I'm at your disposal. We need a live man to handle the sales and publicity end of this concern if ever anyone did. That's the only part that the old man has ever neglected."
"I've got a letter to him also," said Jim, producing it.
"I was told that," said the superintendent, reaching for his hat; "but unfortunately Mr. Sayers is not here. Won't be back for a week or ten days. Gone scouting to see what the rival concerns have got in the way of improvements. They can't steal a march on him. He's absolutely the keenest man in his line on earth! And—see here!—I'll give you a tip. If you can make good with old Tom Sayers, you've no need to worry. He runs this whole plant as if it were a family. Knows every man in it. Calls most of the men by their first names. Gives bonuses and encouragement to the right ones, and fires the dead wood. Doesn't care a hang about anythingexcept making the Sayers car the best on earth because he's proud of it. And—it is! I say so!"
Jim liked that spirit. It promised well. And while he was disappointed not to see Sayers, he was ready to plunge into work with enthusiasm, and did.
Two days later he said to the superintendent, in the privacy of the office, "My conclusion is that your selling organization is a muck. It's been neglected. It's no good. It runs itself without any real head. In fact, you've no head to it at all except Wiggins, the old chap with antiquated ideas, but who is a man I would advise keeping on. He knows he can't handle it, and says he would like to work under someone with new ideas."
And then for a half hour he expanded while the superintendent listened, asked questions, sometimes argued, and finally approved.
"Of course," he said, finally, "your ideas are new. But they are ingenious, and I think very promising. I shall back them up. I like them. They sound hustling. I will recommend them to the old man for all I'm worth, and I believe if you can make him see them, adopt them, and carry them out, we can work together and makethings hum. Now here's a bit of advice. Old Tom Sayers likes plain, practical statements that he can weigh and consider. Put all your proposed plans into writing. Put down hard, concrete facts in terse English. Make it as brief as possible. Don't be afraid to criticise if you can suggest improvements. Don't mince words. He loves simplicity and frankness. And if you do as I say in that regard, and make plain to him the ideas you've made plain to me—you'll get the job, and we'll make a success because I'll work with you to make it succeed. I believe in the old man, and in what he makes, and defy anyone to turn out a better car than we can."
He thumped his fist on the arm of his chair as if challenging Jimmy or the world at large, and Jimmy was highly encouraged. There was but one great fear in his mind.
"Do you think—do you think—that Granger affair is likely to prejudice me in Mr. Sayers' estimation?" he asked, almost appealingly.
The superintendent frowned thoughtfully for a moment and then said, "I don't know. Honestly I don't! Mr. Sayers is a peculiar man. Nobody ever quite knows what he thinks until he opens his mouth, and then it comes outstraight and plain. No frills. No evasions. If he likes a man, he likes him. If he doesn't like him—that ends it. I don't have any idea what he really thinks of Granger. The Judge visits the old man's house when Mrs. Sayers and the daughter are there, but Mrs. Sayers is not the old man—by a long shot! She's a social climber. The old man doesn't give a hang about society, or pink teas. He makes automobiles and believes in efficiency. Granger's not the old man's sort at all. Too stuck up. If I were you, I'd wait until the old man finds out that you're the man who played the joke, and when he asks you about the inside of it, tell him the truth just the same as you did me. If you can show him, before then, that you are the man to market the Sayers car, it's my opinion that the Judge, and his likes, or dislikes, will amount to about as much as a tallow candle at an arc-light party. Anyhow, I wish you luck, and I'll boost for you because I think you deserve it!"
Holmes studied for a moment and said, "By the way, if you could dictate your plan for the new sales organization, I could lend you a brightstenographer who is chain lightning at—well, what is it?"
He stopped and swung around in his swivel chair as a girl from the outer office entered with a card which she handed him.
"That's the name he gave, sir. He said he must see you at once, because he's the deputy sheriff."
Jimmy's heart lost a beat. The superintendent grinned, pursed his lips as if to whistle, and then he said, "Tell him I'm busy but will be at leisure in less than five minutes. Tell him to wait outside. Five minutes, remember!"
The girl went out and the door had barely closed behind her when Holmes muttered to Jimmy, "Here! Come here, quickly. Into this wash room with you, and lock the door on the inside. Keyhole it if you wish, because this sounds mighty funny to me."
And a minute later when the deputy sheriff was invited to enter he found the superintendent alone, and the listening Jimmy heard, "What can I do for you?"
"The office has been told that there's a chap named Gollop around the works here—chapwho looks like Judge Granger. You know what he's wanted for. Got a warrant for his arrest"
"All I know is that he ought to be arrested if he looks like the Judge," growled Holmes, and then, "No, can't say that there's any such a man here. You might look through the works. But—who told you there was such a man here?"
"We got the tip from your man Wiggins."
"Oh! Wiggins, eh? Wait a minute."
Jim heard a buzzer and then the voice of a clerk, "Yes, sir."
"Send Wiggins in to me immediately," ordered the superintendent. There was an interval of silence and then further conversation.
"Oh, Wiggins. Have you seen that man Gollop around lately? If so where is he now?"
"Why—why—I thought he was—thought he came this way, sir," stammered Wiggins with an embarassment that was palpable to the listening Jimmy.
"You thought? Mr. Wiggins, I'm afraid that some day thinking too much will be the death of you! What time does Mr. Gollop show up in the morning?"
"He's usually here when I come, sir," replied the perturbed and conscience-stricken Wiggins.
"Well, to-morrow morning when he comes send him in to me, but—Wiggins! Don't say a word what I want him for. You can go now."
A door banged, and Jimmy heard the superintendent's voice assume a highly confidential tone.
"That makes it easy, if he's the man you're after. I doubt that, however. This chap is near-sighted and wears blue glasses. But here's what I'll do. When Mr. Gollop comes to-morrow I'll keep him here in my office and will telephone you, then you can come out at once and see if he's the culprit. Will that do?"
"Certainly the very best way to do it," said the deputy sheriff, and then Jimmy heard him depart with apologies and thanks for a cigar that Holmes had evidently given him.
Immediately afterward the door opened and the superintendent growled, "Now you see how evil companionship contaminates a man! You've got me into this infernal mixup of yours; but—hang it all!—I can't see a good man get the worst of it on account of that egotistical, swell-headed Granger. And—besides, I've had a letter from the old man himself telling me confidentially that the Martin people recommend you veryhighly and suggesting that in case you get into trouble through the Judge I'm to look out for you to the limit. The limit with old Tom Sayers has never yet been found. So I've got to make good. Besides all that, there's another reason that's entirely my own, which is that I think this shebang needs your services, and I work first, last and all the time for the best interests of the Sayers Automobile Company. So I'm not going to let a tin rooster like Granger interfere with our business in any way if I can help it. Where's your luggage?"
"Over in Mrs. Clancey's house—the place where you recommended me to stop while here."
The superintendent stepped to the door leading out into the office and beckoned to a confidential clerk, who promptly came into the office.
"Smith, go over to Mrs. Clancey's and pack Mr. Gollop's suit case and bring it here as soon as you can. Tell her Mr. Gollop has gone—called away hurriedly; just in time to catch a train; no time to pack. And—see here, Smith—you're to forget it all the very minute after the job is done! Understand?"
"Very well, sir," said Smith, with a grin, and disappeared.
Before the door had closed Holmes was at the plant telephone, and Jimmy was compelled to admire the way in which he avoided all waste of time.
"Garage?" questioned the superintendent. "Good! Tell Hawkins to get out that new roadster we fixed up for Mr. Sayers, see that she's all ready for a run, and bring her around to the office door for me."
As he hung up the receiver the whistle blew and outside could be heard the droning diminuendo of machinery brought to a stop, denoting that another day's work was done, and this was followed by the thrumming of feet and the murmur of voices as the workmen departed. The superintendent got up and pulled down the window shade.
"Just as well to make certain that no one sees you sitting in here," he said, as he again reached for the 'phone, called up his home and said that he would not be home until late that night because he was detained on business, and then proceeded in a deliberate and methodical way to clear up his desk.
It was just twenty minutes later when the two men walked out of the office and to the waiting roadster. The big plant looked idle and deserted. The superintendent gave some words of caution to the man Hawkins, took his seat, told Jim to climb in, and the machine moved slowly forward, picked up speed as if glad to be off on a journey, and began singing its steady, rhythmic song of the road.
"I've got twenty-eight miles to run to get you across the state line," said the superintendent, settling into his seat and handling the wheel like a veteran driver. "In summer I could do it in just twenty-eight minutes with this car, but it'll take a little longer now. Once across the line you can twiddle your thumb up against your nose at anything Granger can do, and go back to New York, or any other place you choose, to make out your written report for the old man. Either give it to the Martin people, or forward it to the works in my care, because I can't give you the old man's address. He jumps here and there like a kangaroo when he goes on one of his scouting trips. We never know where he is. Some car, this, eh?"
Jim's teeth rattled as he shouted his agreement; but, notwithstanding his desire to get out of the state, he would have preferred to take a little more time for the journey. The frost-laden wind threatened to tear him to pieces; behind the goggles with which he had been provided his eyes streamed rivulets of tears, and he wondered how many somersaults the car would turn if it happened to hit any solid obstacle. The coolness of Holmes, who appeared to be lolling back in his seat with an air of calm indifference to wind, weather, and speed, exasperated him, but he dared not show the white feather and beg for mercy, so shut his teeth, clenched his hands and tried to keep from holding his breath.
Their pace did not slacken in the least when they came to two white posts and he heard the superintendent's shout, "Across, all right! Two miles more to town and I think we'll get to the railway station in time for you to catch the eastbound flyer. Looked up the time-table in the office before we started. Take chances on speed laws——" and then fragmentary words of comment not always audible.
They whizzed through the outskirts of a town, skidded a corner, saw a railway station frombehind which a plume of smoke and steam was ascending, and came to an abrupt halt by a platform. Jim had no time to purchase a ticket but made a flying leap with his suitcase and caught the train after it was in motion. He looked back and waved his hand at the superintendent, who was already turning the roadster for its home journey, and it seemed to Mr. James Gollop that this was the first time in several hours when he had been able to take a full, comforting, and free breath.
"If that sort of riding is part of the regular automobile business," he said to himself as he fell into the nearest seat, "you're foredoomed to be a failure, Jimmy, my boy! You ought to practice on something slow, like a comet or a cyclone!"
His equanimity restored he went to the Pullman conductor and applied for a berth.
"Got just one left—an upper—number seventeen. Here, boy, go and bring the gentleman's baggage to seventeen in this car."
"Everything is coming my way! My luck has turned!" quoth Jimmy, relieved by the knowledge that he would not be compelled toride all night in a day coach. "She's a joyous world, after all!"
So happy was he in his optimism that when installed in his Pullman seat he gave the porter a bright, new dollar, and began to think forward to the delights of the dining car. The man who had the lower berth in the section seemed one of those individuals who prefer to keep aloof from others; for, absorbed in a newspaper that he held high above his face to catch the light from behind, he had never even so much as glanced at his prospective section companion. As if he had finished reading something of especial interest he now for the first time lowered it and suddenly sat erect and exclaimed, "Well, I'll be confounded!"
And Jimmy, startled, recognized Judge Granger and retorted, "You confounded well might be! Toss you to see who jumps off this train—you or I."
"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 provedunfortunate, 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 hisdischarge 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."
"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 boysrunning 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 thatunhappy 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 hurtover 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 Martinconsulted 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 ownsseventy-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 thechance. 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."
"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 toPrincetown 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 mysleep! 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'vegot 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 ofone 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 theobject 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.
At exactly three-thirty o'clock on the following day in the Engineers' Club the taciturn Mr. Martin, after some further questioning, took from his pocket a contract and duplicate that assured Mr. James Gollop employment.
"I've been in a peculiar situation in this affair," said Martin. "I've had to fight against some personal likings and inclinations, and stand as a mediator; for I must look after the best interests of the Sayers Automobile Company as well as the interests of Jim Gollop. However, here you are. Sign these."
Jimmy signed the contracts with as glad a hand as if he had been affixing his signature to some document of inheritance that would bring him a million. He put his own copy in his pocket with as much care as if it were precious beyond computation.
"Now," he said, "when do I meet Mr. Sayers?"
"Sayers," said Martin, as he put the original contract into his pocket, "is going somewhere West to-day. You'll see him soon enough. His instructions are that you are to go immediately to San Augustine, Florida, to see what is being done by rival concerns down there at the beach races. I suppose he expects you to pick up points and information. Keep track of your expense account. Learn all you can. Then report at Princetown."
"But—about Granger! Am I to——"
"You'll be away at least two weeks," said Martin. "Many things can happen in that time. If I were you, I'd forget that the Judge is on earth. I'll—I'll tell Sayers about this matter," said his benefactor, with the first sign of hesitancy that Jim had ever seen him display. "And in the meantime, I'll do all I can to get that Judge to show some sense. You can be certain of that. Well, may good luck go with you!"
At exactly seven-thirty that evening Mr. James Gollop reluctantly departed from the street in front of the Martha Putnam hotel,where he had taken up sentry go after convincing himself that MacDougall Alley was dark.
"Got to catch my train to San Augustine," he warned himself. "Can't put it off a minute longer because the meeting is on there day after to-morrow, and it won't wait until I can tell Mary Allen all about it! But if I don't straighten this matter out so that hereafter I can at least write her, or send her a wire, I'm no organizer at all and my chance with the Sayers Company isn't worth a tinker's curse."
As if he were forever scraping under the wire just before the barrier fell, Jimmy got the last vacant berth in the sleeper and, recovering from his Martha Putnam disappointment, whistled blithely as a porter carried his suitcase to the Pullman steps. He stood outside to enjoy the last of his cigar and was mildly interested in the final rush of passengers when a porter came rapidly wheeling an invalid's chair in which sat a man bodily broken and hideously scarred. The porter halted the chair and the man asked, anxiously, if it were possible to secure a berth.
"Sorry, sir," said the Pullman conductor, "but we're full up. You should have engaged one earlier for this train. It's always crowded now."
"I didn't know until half an hour ago that I could come," said the man in the wheel chair with such evident disappointment that Jimmy's sympathy was enlisted. "Isn't there some place you can put me? It's—it's like a day out of my life if I miss this train to San Augustine!"
That was more than Jimmy could endure.
"Give this man my berth," said Jimmy to the conductor. "No. 12 in this car. I can stick it through the night in the smoker. I've done it heaps of times!"
And with that he brushed the porter aside, bent forward, lifted the wreck from the chair and with his sturdy strength carried him up the steps and to the relinquished section.
"There," he said cheerfully, as the porter came bearing the cushions with which to make the invalid comfortable. "Now you'll be right as a top."
The train took on motion and Jimmy was starting to carry his suitcase forward when the Pullman conductor, proving that kindliness commands kindliness, came hurrying forward and said, "Here! Let the porter find a seat for you. It's pretty crowded out there now. Or, if the gentleman has no objections, you mightsit here with him until it's time to make the berths down. The day coaches and smokers usually get thinned out a little by ten o'clock at night."
And thus it was that Jimmy made a new friend.
"You see," explained the man he had befriended, "this race meeting down there means a lot to a chap smashed up as I am. It's about the only thrill I ever get since—since—I had to live in a chair. My name is Carver. Dan Carver. What's yours?"
"Jim Gollop," said Jimmy, puzzling his excellent memory to recall why it was that the name Dan Carver suggested something, and then, after an interval, blurting, "Carver? Are you the man who used to be a famous race driver two or three years ago? The man who wrecked himself in the Vanderbilt Cup races rather than take a chance on throwing his machine into the crowd at a turn?"
"The same—what's left of him," Carver admitted.
"Then," said Jimmy, "I wish I could have given you a whole Pullman instead of just oneberth! By gosh! You deserve it. The firm you drove for ought to have seen to that."
"Firms forget, when a man is no longer of use," said Carver with a shake of his head.
"Some of 'em do. Mine isn't that sort. But, you see, my firm is head and shoulders above the others—in some ways. The Sayers Automobile Company isn't one of these big, swollen concerns. Old Tom Sayers looks after his people."
He was in true form again, proud of his firm, boasting its merits, advertising it and ready to defend it quite as valiantly as if he had been with it from its beginnings.
"I've heard of it," admitted Carver, politely. "Suppose it's because I'm so out of the game that I don't know more about it than I do. My fault! How long you been with 'em?"
"Since about five o'clock this afternoon," said Jimmy.
The crippled record breaker took out his watch, consulted it, and slipped it back in his pocket.
"Long time, isn't it?" he commented. "That's nearly three hours. I've broken a few records in my time, but you beat anything I've come across. It took thirteen years for me to learnthat one concern I worked for was no good. It took you three hours to learn the one you work for is the best there is."
"But I believe it!" declared Jimmy, with his unquenchable enthusiasm. "Why? Because I believe in Tom Sayers. I believe in his honesty, and his reputation, and—well—because he gave me a chance."
"Know him very well?" his seat mate asked.
"Never met him," Jimmy admitted.
"Know anything about his cars?" Carver somewhat cynically asked.
"I know that some of those who have them brag about them," said Jimmy. "And I know that the men who work for him, from the superintendent down to the yard boy, believe in them and say so, and would tear to pieces a man who says they aren't the best. That's good enough for me. Know anything about cars? Um-m-m-mh! I reckon I don't know a thing on earth about 'em. If my life depended upon starting a car that somebody had handed me on a platter, I suppose I'd be a deader. But a man doesn't have to know it all to succeed. Noah couldn't have started theAquitania; but he did navigate the ark pretty successfully, and nobody deniesthat he was the first admiral that ever sailed the seas. Admiral Nelson and Commodore Paul Jones got there, somehow, but if they had seen a motor launch tearing down on them at twenty miles an hour, I can imagine both of them diving off the poop!"
Before they parted that night, the expert and the novice had become friends. Before the race meeting was over, Mr. James Gollop knew more about the merits of cars, the advantages of one over the other, and the prevailing failings and universal obstacles than he had ever dreamed before. Incidentally, he had established a friendship that lasted and was to be of mutual benefit thereafter. He jubilated when considering fortune. All things were coming his way. He would have accepted it as a part of the regular procedure had he found a twenty dollar gold piece on the pavement. His luck was in.
And so, like a happy victor, Mr. James Gollop of the Sayers Automobile Company returned to New York one evening and, knowing that it was too late to base any hope on either MacDougall Alley or the Martha Putnam hotel, repaired, in lieu thereof, to the palm-garden precincts of the place in which he had lastdined with Mary Allen. He made plans for the morrow, thought of what he might say to her, determined that the mystery should end, and was anything but discontented. He ate leisurely, enjoyed his food, and perused an evening paper. He liked the black coffee, and felt civilized when he resorted to the finger bowl. He got to his feet leisurely, well content, and then stopped, bent to one side, moved a pace and through a screen of palm fronds stared as if transfixed. What he saw was Mary Allen seated at a nice little table, inspecting a bunch of violets in her hand, whilst across from her, stiff, pompous, self-conscious, but entirely self-satisfied, sat the man who might have been Mr. James Gollop but who was, indubitably one J. Woodworth-Granger, Judge of the Fourth District Court. Others might not identify him, but Mr. James Gollop did and for a moment his mind was in a turmoil of surprise and anger. Granger! That wind bag had somehow, probably by mere accident, met the only girl on earth, taken base advantage of his likeness to one Jim Gollop, and was profiting thereby! How dare he! To impersonate another man under ordinary circumstances was in itself sufficiently culpable, but inprivate affairs, extraordinary and personal, it became outrageous.
A great wave of indignation surged Jimmy Gollop as if he had been thrust into a turbulent sea and was being helplessly bobbed up and down thereon. He was undecided whether to create a scene by rushing forward, seizing the impertinent Judge by the short hair at the back of his neck, which country barbers had encouraged to a bristle, or to stalk deliberately forward like the long lost hero in the cinema and—after the screen had announced his words, "This girl is mine!"—scornfully indicate to the impostor the door through which the latter, crestfallen, must inevitably depart. For about a half-minute that seemed a half-century, he didn't know what to do. And then, upsetting all ethics and standards of the melodrama and the movies, he did just what anyone else would have done in like circumstances; stalked majestically toward the hat pirate in the outer hall, fumbled for his hat slip, presented it with humble fingers, got his head covering and his overcoat, and shuffled out into the street dejectedly to ponder over the exigencies of this calamity, this tragedy, that threatened to end the world. How dared theJudge to look like him! What a dirty trick to take advantage of their unfortunate resemblance and impose himself into such a situation! It was incredible, and base. He didn't know what to do about it, because she was involved. He felt himself in a peculiarly helpless position. He could but pray that the Judge's intentions were honorable.
After a rather disturbed night in which he slept by fits and starts, mostly starts, and occupied the intervening wakeful hours in considering the Judge's unparalleled effrontery, Jim dawdled over a breakfast for which he had no appetite, reflecting meanwhile what he could do. Ordinarily his nerves were equal to any strain; but now he found himself fidgety, which but added to his general perturbation. For her sake, as much as his own, he was indignant over the deception practiced upon Mary Allen, and resolved to punish the impostor if ever opportunity offered. He decided that his first move must be to warn her. That, too, presented its difficulty, as his one certain chance of finding her was at her studio, and he doubted if she would be there before the late forenoon. He scanned the list of hotel arrivals and learned that the Judge was a guest at the Van Astor.
"That," he soliloquized, "is worth knowing;because after I have had a talk with Mary, I'll call upon that human airship or write him a note telling him what one James Gollop thinks about him!"
He was still perplexed and absent-minded when he somewhat listlessly walked out into the morning sunlight and started rather aimlessly down town; nor was he aware that he was passing the Van Astor until disturbed by a sharp "Harrup! Ahem!" snorted out as if by a hippopotamus that had just emerged from deep water, and looking around saw the object of his indignation advancing toward him. If Jim's usual frown looked black, the scowl that was on the Judge's face was cyclonic.
"You unspeakable scoundrel!" the Judge exclaimed, as he confronted Jimmy.
"That, sir, is precisely the term I should have applied to you!" retorted Jimmy. And then, before the Judge, who was not so quick on the up-take, had time to recover, Jim poked his face belligerently forward and added, "The sole condition that prevents me from giving you just what you deserve—a punch in the jaw!—is that we are here on the street; but I'll promise you this, you infernal windbag, that if ever I get youalone, I'll change your facial boundaries until you'll never more be mistaken for me."
"You—you—how dare you!" exclaimed the Judge, drawing back as if aghast, and considerably alarmed by the threat of physical peril.
"See here," said Jim, advancing a step as the Judge retreated, "we'll mention no names, but I'll say this: that if ever again you take advantage of our resemblance to force your attentions on the young lady with whom I saw you last night, I'll expose you. You should be ashamed of yourself. There is a limit to everything, and your actions are beyond the lines of decency—you—you—hypocritical blackguard!"
"Not another word! Not another word!" roared the Judge, as if he were admonishing a highly obstreperous witness in his court "It's all I can do to keep from turning you over to the police, and——"
"And it's all I can do to keep from putting my fist into your face until someone calls for an ambulance! By God! I think I'll do it anyhow!" exclaimed Jim with such evident intention that the Judge got from reach not an instant too soon, and, deciding that he might as well continue his progress after such a flying start,did not pause until he had reached the security of the hotel rotunda. Jim's first impulse had been to assist his departure with his boot, but after his leg had got half-way into the air he recovered his senses, and then angrily turned and walked down the avenue. Once around the corner of an intersecting street he stopped, got out of the line of traffic, and despite the coldness of the day, removed his hat and wiped moisture from his forehead.
"Good Lord!" he muttered, "what a narrow escape! I came as near to making an absolute fool of myself then as ever I have in my life. If I hadn't controlled myself at the right moment I would have probably booted the Judge; but would have kicked away my new job at the same time. Will I never, never, never learn sense?"
The fact that the Judge had opened a meeting with an insult that scarcely any red-blooded man could have failed to resent, did not, in Jimmy's sober self-arraignment condone his own conduct.
"What I should have done," he thought, "was to keep my temper cool, and let him know beyond any chance of misunderstanding just where we stand, right now and in the future. I'm not going to run away from that big blufferany more. It's come to a show-down between him and me! I'm done, not only with apologies, but, with side-stepping. If ever he sticks his nose into my affairs again I'll make him wish he'd taken it to a shipyard and had it armor plated. But how on earth did he happen to bump into Mary? And where? That's what gets me!"
He thought he could picture it all—the chance meeting, her cordial greeting, the Judge's joy at being hailed by such an extraordinary beautiful and attractive creature when all the girls he had hitherto met had been of the small town or tea-party variety, and his tacit pretension that he was her accepted friend and pal, James Gollop.
"I reckon he'd smirk, and bow, and try to be clever and witty, and all the time he'd be either patting himself on the back for his luck, or envying or hating me," thought Jimmy. "When I let the people out in Yimville think I was him, it was a joke; but this is a serious matter and—it's positively indecent! That's what it is! It's an outrage!"
Imbued with a frantic wish to have Mary Allen share his indignation, he started toward MacDougall Alley. And then his considerationfor her feelings and wish to shield her from distress caused him to ponder whether it were not the best to avoid mention of the Judge unless she broached the subject of the supposed James Gollop's actions on the preceding night. That brought him to another tormenting question, which was how long this affair had been going on. How long had the Judge been in town? How many times had he met and entertained her? And—horrible condition!—suppose of the two men she had learned to like Judge Woodworth-Granger better than James Gollop? That would be a tragedy. Never a doubt entered his mind but that the Judge would speedily fall in love with such a paragon, and throw himself at her feet. It was impossible that he should be such an imbecile as to do otherwise! Any man in the world would do the same. It was to be expected, in the natural course of things. Being something of an opportunist, he decided to stop pondering over everything until he was in the presence of Mary, and then to guide himself by his reception. He hoped that the Judge had, as nearly as his capabilities permitted, lived up to the high standard of the Gollop form, or, as Jimmy himself might haveexpressed it, that the Judge "hadn't queered his pitch."
"It'd be just like him to make her hate me after one interview. Considering how I hated myself after one meeting with him I couldn't blame her," he admitted, dolefully.
With an unwonted trepidation he climbed the studio stairs and rapped on the door.
"Come in." Her voice, sounding to Jimmy like a long unheard and beautiful song, responded and he turned the handle and entered.
She was sitting in front of an easel and the forenoon light from outside lent finer lights and shadows to her face as with her head half-turned over her shoulder she regarded him.
"Oh, hello! It's you, is it?" she greeted, and then got to her feet quickly, and stepped toward him as if to inspect him at shorter range, or else as if wondering what mood he might be in at the moment. There was a palpable uncertainty, curiosity, and perhaps reserve in her attitude, as if she wondered whether he would begin talking pompous platitudes or, on the contrary, breezing into some whimsy. He didn't quite know what to say or do. He felt like a human interrogation point; aware of the necessity of finding outsomething and adapting himself to that knowledge.
He had kept away from her when discharged from the old employment and sought her when his outlook was brightened by the new. He had tried to find her when his dreams were flashing fast. He had anticipated this interview. His imagination and love had so gilded her and her surroundings with glamour that now, as he stood there, awkward, irresolute, with hat in hand, everything seemed unreal. Everything seemed reduced to hard realities. The fire that warmed the studio was a real fire. The light that entered through the windows was real light. The studio was but a real working room, and she but a real flesh-and-blood girl standing there in a paint-soiled apron with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other.
And then her voice brought him back to earth.
"For goodness sake! Can't you speak?" she asked, and extricated a thumb from the palette, and turned to lay it and the paint brush on a littered table near her easel. Inasmuch as her eyes were for the moment diverted from him he succeeded in recovering some of his customary wits.
"Speak? Speak! I've got so much to speak that I'm smothered with talk," he replied. "Aren't you going to shake hands before I begin?"
"I suppose it's polite," she said, extending a hand which, with all the delightful inconsequence of a man infatuated with love, he had frequently craved to hold forever. "Suppose you sit down to tell it!" she suggested, withdrawing her hand from his. "I'm—I'm rather curious to hear you talk."
"Why?" he asked. "Don't I talk enough—usually?"
"Yes, but——" She stopped, appeared to hesitate, and then almost irrelevantly said "You've never said what you thought of my work. Do you think I should continue it, or drop it?"
Jimmy was so astonished by the unexpected that he forgot his embarrassment.
"Drop it? Of course not. How absurd! It was never in me to do anything very well," he added almost wistfully, "for I have no gifts. But if I could sing even a little, I would cultivate my voice. And if I but knew how to paint at all, I would work to paint better, always hopingthat some time I might do at least one picture. But—isn't it unusual for you to be either discouraged, or questioning?"
"Perhaps," she said, looking away from him. "But—suppose I had to give it up?"
"Why?" he cried solicitously. And then, remembering that all his recent worries had been of a financial nature, he was fearful that some wolf of poverty had thrust its head into the studio door. "If—if—it's money that keeps you from going ahead as you have been, I—look here! Your work mustn't stop. We're too good friends to be falsely modest. If—if you're broke, I'd like to let you have some money. I haven't got much, but—Mary—I'm going to make some. I'll—I'll buy a picture. I'd like one. I've always wanted one of yours."
She smiled a trifle sadly and shook her head in negation. He thought she doubted the affluence of a mere chocolate salesman and it brought his mind back to his own good news.
"See here, Mary Allen," he expostulated, "a lot of things have happened since I saw you last. I'm no longer Jimmy Gollop, candy drummer. I'm Mr. James Gollop, Sales Manager for one of the best institutions on earth, and I'm goingto make good. I know I shall. I feel it here," and he tapped his breast with his knuckles. She did not observe his gesture, for she had turned still further from him, and was looking out of the window as if half distracted by her own thought.