Reel Life (Sep 1913 - Mar 1914)

Reel Life 7 goin' to ask you what it'll cost us to get them orders — I don't insult nobody. But I'm goin' to do a leetle thinkin', out loud — an' of course, if you should happen to overhear me, why I ain't responsible for that. Let's see now — got to dreamin' about wills, this mornin'. Friend of mine — one of the slickest lawyers in New York — does a lot of estate business. Well — I dreamed this mornin' that I seen him writin' a letter to you — sayin' he'd been notified by a concern of western lawyers that, two months ago they drew up a will for an old miner who said you'd done him a good turn. This miner was all in with bum lungs — doctors didn't give him more'n a month to live, an' he was goin' to hike up in the mountains to a shack he had among the pines — stick it out there as long as he could, an' then cash in. He signs the will they draw up — an' leaves you ten thousand dollars — to be paid over without probate or any legal entanglements at the end of thirty days, whether he was actually dead then or not. Carryin' out their instructions, they communicate with this lawyer friend of mine as their New York attorney, ask him to look you up, an' notify you of the legacy — which they're ready to remit at once — through him. Funny sort of a dream — wa'n't it? I'd like to see you fall into a leetle pot like that, Harvey — might help your expense account for a month or so — hey? An' the beauty of a thing like that is — for a man in your position — ain't any man livin' could say a single dam word against your takin it. Why — in that there dream I had — that old 'lunger' of a miner had even cal'lated what the inheritance tax would be, an' chucked it in, extry — along with the lawyers' fees — so's you'd get the whole ten thousand— net. Well — funny what a man'll dream when he's been up late nights thinkin' over some deal — ain't it. I got to be goin'. Say — you think over them fifty-thousand dollar contracts, will you? W« know our prices are about right — an' we've got to have 'em. 'Course — if you ever did inherit a legacy like that, it might run to more than I dreamed about. Dreams are kinda fool things, anyhow. Well — so long, Harvey — I gotta be goin'." "Wait a second, Murtagh — 'how the devil could any one-lung miner afford to leave me ten thousand out of the profits on fifty thousand in contracts — if they were straight?" "Dunno as I just get you. Old Man. I didn't say nothin' about that miner's havin' no contracts. Oh, I see — you was just puttin' a supposin' sort of question, was you? Oh, well — you can't never figure contracts in that way. Some contracts is dear at one percent— other ones '11 stand fifty. It all depends. Sometimes a man's acquaintance in a business way is worth a dam sight more'n the profits in the job — for lots o' reasons. Well — I gotta be goin'. Say — call me up, to-morrow — will you?" He sat, after Murtagh left the office, for a long time, looking out of the window — thinking. Then one of the stenographers told him to go up to the Vice-President's office. When he was closeted with that official, Trowbridge took a couple of bills from the wirebasket on his desk and glanced fhrough the items. "Er — I notice you're buying this stuff from a new concern. Why did you leave the old one?" "They were charging us about five hundred dollars a week more than what seemed to me a reasonable profit on what they sold to us. If you'll send for last week's bills from the new people, you'll find them just about that much lower — and the stuff is even better quality. Frankly, Mr. Trowbridge — I've not the slightest proof, but it looks to me as if someone has been getting a pretty nice little rake-off on that account." "Hmph ! . . . I appreciate your watchfulness, Sloan — that's the sort of thing we pay for, but don't always get. All the same, you've made a mistake in this case. Of course, you've nothing to do with actually using that stuff — making it up — and so the last lot may seem better to you than the old. As a matter of fact, it isn't as good — the foreman's been after me about it. The old concern had a secret process — they put something in which made the stuff about right, even at five hundred dollars more a week. Now — just as soon as you can, I want you to go back to 'em. I wouldn't wait too long about it, either." He left Trowbridge's office with his mind in a whirl. He might not be in the practical manufacturing department, but he had enough technical knowledge to know that the new concern was supplying them with a better grade of material at a weekly saving of five hundred dollars. Who was getting itf Where was the wheel within the wheel? Trowbridge? . . . That seemed ridiculous on the face of it. But who? He went home that night completely disheartened — and spent an evening with people of expensive tastes — an evening that cost him over sixty dollars. Next morning, he telephoned Murtagh that he had given his concern the fifty-thousand-dollar contracts. And by two o'clock, he was in possession of a ten-thousand-dollar inheritance from an un-remembered miner in the West whom he was supposed to have once befriended— all legal technicalities having been attended to. He deposited the cheque before his personal bank closed for the day — and that evening he drew and mailed cheques for every penny he owed. At midnight, she came into the little library to see what was keeping him up so late. He was sitting at his desk, staring into vacancy — with an expression upon 'his face that she had never seen before — the expressioin of a man who has lost faith in himself. Foir a moment or so, she leaned against the wall, in the shadow — and studied him — a shiver of apprehension clutching at her heart. Presently, he sensed her nearness in the room — and spoke, without turning his head. Like the relentless drip of water on a stone, he told her — in fragmentary sentences — -of his struggle against increasing debt — of the utter inadequacy of his salary to meet their monthly and daily expenses. There was no word of reproach for unnecessary expenditure upon her part — no suggestion that they might possibly have saved money by a more economical way of living. It had occurred to him — but, knowing the scale upon which her father had kept her when they were married, he thought it would be merely a waste of breath to argue that point with her. Finally, he told her of Murtagh's contracts and his ten-thousanddollar legac}' — finishing with a despairing toss of his arms above his head as if there was nothing more to be said. "Why, Harvey — I think that legacy was a great piece of luck! You say you've paid off everything you owe? Before you get that much in debt again, the Firm will raise your salary — and then we'll be all right anyhow, won't we?" "Oh, Girl — Girl — can't you see what I've done! That legacy was nothing but a bribe from Murtagh — cleverly covered up to keep me out of States Prison — a bribe to give his concern those contracts ! And my taking it makes me just as much of a grafter and dishonest man as any corrupt politician serving his time in Sing Sing!" (An expression of horror crept into her face. She shrank back against the wall with a gesture of loathing.) "You, Harvey! . . . My husband! . . . That sort of a creature!