Alex the Great Read online

  Produced by Al Haines

  [Frontispiece: Along he comes with some dame he must have kidnappedfrom the Follies when Ziegfeld was busy countin' up the receipts orsomethin'.]

  ALEX THE GREAT

  BY

  H. C. WITWER

  Author of "From Baseball to Boches," "A Smile a Minute," etc.

  ILLUSTRATED BY

  ARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN

  BOSTON

  SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY

  PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1919,

  BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY

  (INCORPORATED)

  DEDICATED TO

  RALPH T. HALE

  --EDITOR OF SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY--

  MY PUBLISHER--BUT STILL MY FRIEND

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I INTRODUCING ALEX THE GREAT II THE SELF-COMMENCER III PLAY YOUR ACE! IV DON'T GIVE UP THE TIP! V YOU CAN DO IT! VI THE LITTLE THINGS DON'T COUNT VII ART IS WRONG

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  Along he comes with some dame he must have kidnapped from the Follies when Ziegfeld was busy countin' up the receipts or somethin'. . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

  I struck a match and he tells me they is 9,765,543 of them used in NewYork every fiscal year.

  "She's going to marry me, she's going to marry me!"

  She's knittin' a sweater for me that will prob'ly make me off her forlife.

  "How perfectly sweet! If you two only knew what a pretty picture youmake!"

  "Heavens!" says the vampire. "You must have worked all your life toacquire ignorance, for no one was ever born as stupid as you!"

  When the dames cast languishing glances at his handsome form, he glaredat them like an infuriated turtle.

  ALEX THE GREAT

  CHAPTER I

  INTRODUCING ALEX THE GREAT

  Girls, listen--if friend hubby comes home to-night and while hurlin'the cat off his favorite chair, remarks that he's got a scheme to makegold out of mud or pennant winners out of the St. Looey Cardinals,don't threaten to leave him flat and accuse him of givin' aid andcomfort to the breweries. Turn the gas out under the steak, be seatedand register attention--because maybe he _has_!

  Scattered around all the department stores, coal mines, butcher shops,the police force and banks, there's guys which can sing as well asCaruso, lead a band better than Sousa, stand Dempsey on his ear, showRockefeller how to make money or teach Chaplin some new falls. Yetthese birds go through life on eighteen dollars every Saturday withprospects, and never get their names in the papers unless they getcaught in a trolley smash-up. They're like a guy with the ice creamconcession at the North Pole. They got the goods, but what of it? Asfar as the universe is concerned it's a secret--they're there withchimes on, but nobody knows it but them!

  Y'know this stuff about us all bein' neck and neck when we hit thenursery may be true, but, believe me, some guys are born to run second!They get off on the wrong foot, trailin' the leaders until theundertaker stops the race. They plod through life takin' orders fromguys that don't know half as much about any given thing as they do;they never get a crack at the big job or the big money, althoughaccordin' to Hoyle they got everything that's needed for both. TakeJoey Green who used to be so stupid at dear old college that thefaculty once considered givin' him education by injectin' it into hisdome with a hypodermic. At forty he comes back to the campus to make'em a present of a few new buildin's out of last month's winnin's fromthe cruel world. Where is Elbert Huntington, which copped all thediplomas, did algebra by ear and was give medals for out-brainin' theclass? Where is _he_, teacher? And the echo chirps, "Workin' for JoeyGreen, drawin' twenty a week and on the payroll as No. 543!"

  The answer to this little thumb sketch is easy. Elbert Huntington hadbrains and Joey Green had confidence. Elbert _expected_ to dumfoundthe world with what he knew, and Joey _did_ dumfound it with what hedidn't. Now if Joseph made good with nothin' but nerve, what could aguy do that had brains and nerve both?

  I'll tell you.

  After we won the world's series in 1914 and the dough had been dividedup to the satisfaction of everybody but the guys that was in on thesplit, me and the wife had figured on one of them trips to Europe. Youprob'bly know the kind I mean, "$900 and up. Bus to hotel on fifthmorning out included." I had looked forward to this here expeditionfor thirty years, like a guy looks forward to eight o'clock the nighthe's gonna call on his first girl. We had learned French and Eytalianoff of a phonograph record and from givin' them spaghetti dives a play.Also, I had collected a trousseau that would of made John Drew takearsenic if he'd ever of flashed me when I was dolled up for the street.

  Prob'ly you have seen somethin' in the papers about how the old countrywas closed to traffic right then. From what I hear it was all dug uplike lower Broadway and tourists had to detour by way of So. America,so we never got nearer Europe than the Williamsburg Bridge, and youcan't see a thing from there.

  Well, when we found out that as far as trips to Europe was concernedthey was nothin' stirrin', the wife took both bank books and went downto Lakewood, while I stayed in New York as a deposit on the new flat.I went to the station with her and I'll betcha from the fond farewellswe give each other, people must of thought she was gonna take the veilor somethin', instead of just goin' to entomb herself in Jersey for amonth. I swore I'd be in every night at ten, although that's kindalate to start out for the night, and she promised not to get in nobridge melees where the sum they battled for was over six bits. Thenwe took some more bows on the lovin' good-by stuff, and I'm alone inthe big city.

  I managed somehow to live through the day, but the next afternoon Ilured a bunch up to the flat for a little pinochle. I begin byinvitin' two guys, but by the time we got to Harlem we was a dozenstrong. Once inside the portals, it turns out that only six of them iswild about pinochle, so the rest of 'em take up the rugs, start thevictrola and give themselves up to dancin'. Pretty soon the telephonerings with great violence. I grabbed the receiver and learned it wasthe woman which lives underneath.

  "Them steamfitters you got rehearsin' up there has got to call it aday!" she says. "Otherwise I'll moan to the landlord. The chandelierhas left the ceilin' already and four pieces of my chocolate set isbusted. I never heard tell of such carryin' on!"

  "Wait till you been here a little longer," I says, "I ain't carryin'on, me and some boy friends of mine is tryin' to kill a dull afternoonand--"

  "If them's friends makin' that racket," she butts in, "I hope I havemoved when your enemies call! What am I gonna do about that chocolateset, hey? D'ye hear--there goes another piece!"

  "If I was in your place," I tells her, "I'd drink coffee, and if yourfurnishings is all as frail as that chocolate set you're featurin', youbetter grab hold of the piano, because I'm gonna sneeze!"

  "Don't you dare make no cracks about my furniture!" she yells. "I gotmy opinion of what you do for a livin' when you can afford to be homein the daytime!"

  "I make chocolate sets," I says. "We're workin' on one now and--"

  "Wait till my husband comes home!" she cuts in. "He'll take care ofyou!"

  "I don't need nobody to take care of me," I comes back, "I'm selfsupportin'."

  "Why don't you let go there?" yells Eddie Brannan. "Are you and thatdame doin' an act or what?"

  Zip! she hangs up and just then the front door-bell makes good.

  "See who it is!" I calls to one of the gang, sittin' in the game again."Tell 'em I'm in Brazil and--"

  Oh, boy!

  One of them dead silences took place in the hall and--in walks the wife!

  For the next five seconds it was so quiet in that flat that a graveyardwould seem like a locomotive works alongside of it. Joe Leity startsto whistle soft
and low, Abe Katz opens the dumbwaiter and looks downto see what kind of a jump it is and I dropped a hundred aces on thefloor. The rest of the gang eases over to the door.

  "Why--ah--eh--ah, what does this mean?" I says kinda weak. "I thoughtyou had went to Lakewood."

  "Well," she says, turnin' the eyes, that used to fill the Winter Gardenevery night, on the gang, "where d'ye figure I am now? I'll give youthree guesses!"

  "Ahem!" says Joe Leity, "I guess I'll blow! I--"

  "Me, too!" pipes the gang like a chorus and does a few more vamps tothe door.

  "Why don't you introduce your friends?" says the wife. "Or maybe youjust run across these boys yourself when you come in, heh?"

  "Excuse!" I says. "This here's Joe Leity, Abe Katz, Phil Young, RedDailey, Steve--"

  "Never mind callin' the roll," she butts in. "I'll let it go en masse.I'm delighted to meet you all, and I hope you won't run away simplybecause I'm here."

  "Oh, no--not at all--we ain't runnin' away!" they says.

  "There's no reason for you boys _runnin'_ anyways," the wife goes on,"because the elevator is right outside now and I think the boy isholdin' the car for you--"

  They blowed!

  "And now," says the wife to me, "what d'ye mean by bringin' themplumbers up here for a union meetin', eh?"

  "Don't be always knockin'!" I answers, gettin' peeved. "Them boys isall honest and true, even if they do look a little rough to the nakedeye. But how is it you come back to-day when you wasn't due for amonth?"

  "You're tickled to death to see me, ain't you?" she asks, pullin' thepout that formerly helped sell the magazines.

  To be level with you, I was--mad and all.

  "Why, dearie!" I remarks, kissin' her. "You know I--"

  "Easy with the oil!" she cuts me off. "Get on your hat and coat; we'regoin' right down to Grand Central Station."

  "Don't you think it's liable to tire you, honey," I asks her, "runnin'back and forth from Lakewood like this?"

  "I'm not goin' to Lakewood, Stupid," she says. "We're goin' down tomeet Alex Hanley--of course you remember him?"

  I threw in the self-starter on the old brain, but there was nothin'doin'.

  "No!" I says. "To come right out with it--I don't. I realize thoughthat he must be a lu-lu when we're goin' down and meet him at thestation. What did he do--lick Dempsey?"

  "Idiot!" says the wife, callin' me by her favorite pet name. "He's mycousin."

  Oh, boy!

  We was goin' down in the elevator and I sunk in the seat with a lowmoan. In the short space since me and the wife had been wed, I had mether father, six brothers, four nephews, three cousins and a bevy of heruncles. They all claimed they was pleased to meet me, though theycouldn't figure how their favorite female relative come to fall forme--and then they folleyed that lead up with a request for everythingfrom a job to ten bucks.

  "All right, dearie," I says, finally, "I'm game! Believe me, though,while your family is all aces to me on account of bein' related to you,I often find myself wishin' that you had been an orphan!"

  "I could of married a couple of millionaires!" sighs the wife. "And tothink I turned 'em down for you!"

  "If you had married a _couple_ of millionaires, you would of beenpinched!" I says. "What d'ye think this cousin of yours will want tostart off with, from your affectionate husband?"

  "Nothin'!" she tells me. "Alex never asked a favor in his life.Believe me, this one is different!"

  "I can see that from here!" I says. "If you claim he won't take me forsomething he's different, all right. In fact I can hardly believe hebelongs to the family at all."

  "I was brought up never to brawl in the open," says the wife, "so I'mlettin' your insults go. This boy is fresh from the mountains ofVermont. He's never been to New York in his life and he's comin' herenow to make his mark."

  "I'll lay you eight to five I'm the mark!" I says.

  We was at the station then, so we had to practise self-denial and quitscrappin'. The wife explained that she had hardly got to Lakewood whenshe found a telegram there from her cousin Alex sayin' that he wascomin' down for a visit. So she beat it right back to meet him, notwantin' the poor kid to breeze into a town like New York, all by hislonesome.

  Well, we stand in the middle of the waitin'-room like a couple of boobsfor a while, and then a guy, which I figured must be a college devilbustin' into a new fraternity, comes gallopin' across the floor, slamsa suitcase down on my foot and throws his arms around the wife's neck.He had on a cap which could of been used as a checker board when yougot tired of wearin' it, a suit of clothes that must of been made by amaniac tailor and the yellowest tan shoes I ever seen in my life. Ifhe had been three inches taller and an ounce thinner, you could of puta tent around him and got a dime admission. On his upper lip, whichwas of a retirin' disposition, he had a mustache that was an outrightsteal from Chaplin.

  I watched him and my wife embrace as long as I could stand it and thenI tapped her on the shoulder.

  "I suppose this is Alex, eh?" I says--while he looks at me for thefirst time.

  "You got Sherlock Holmes lookin' stupid!" admits the wife. "Alex, meetmy lord and master."

  "Howdy, cousin!" hollers Alex. "I knowed you the minute I seen youfrom them, now, big ears you got. Y'know they went to work and printedyour picture in the Sunday papers last month on a charge of havin' wonthe, now, pennant for--Well, that's neither here nor there. I comehere to make good! A feller with brains can always do that in thesebig rube towns like New York. Of course a baseball player don't needno brains--you know that yourself and--"

  "C'mon, Alex," butts in the wife quickly, seein' I was gettin' ready tograb Alex by the neck. "We'll go right up to the flat and havesomething to eat. I'll bet you haven't had a bite since you lefthome--you ought to be starved by this time!"

  "I'd rather see him shot, myself!" I growls, taggin' along after them,carryin' this bird's suitcase. If they was clothes in there, Alex mustof dressed in armor up in Vermont. The thing was as heavy as twodollars' worth of corn beef and cabbage. However, I figured I'd getback at Alex the minute he asked me for a job. I was all set for thisbird, believe me!

  "So this is New York, hey?" he pipes through his nose the minute we getoutside the station. He stops dead in the street, gazin' up at the bigbuildin's and then down at the crowds like a guy in a trance. All heneeded was a streamer of hay in his mouth and the first seven guys thatpassed would of offered to sell him the Bronx. He gasps a couple oftimes and wipes his eyes.

  "Well, Alex," I says, tryin' hard not to laugh in his face, "what d'yethink of New York? Considerable burg, eh?"

  He shakes his head kinda sad and sighs.

  "I'll speak plain to you, cousin," he says. "Of all the rube burgs Iever seen, this here's the limit!"

  I liked to fell down one of them Subway holes!

  "Rube town?" I yells. "Where d'ye get that stuff? Are you seekin' tokid me?"

  He grabs me by the shoulders and swings me around.

  "Just you look at that crowd of folks on the corner there!" he tellsme. He points over to where half New York is bein' held up in atraffic jam--wagons, autos, surface cars and guys usin' rubber heels asa means of locomotion, all waitin' for the cop to say, "Go!"

  "Just look at 'em!" repeats Alex, sneering at me. "From the reportsthat have reached me, this here's the town where all the brains in theworld is gathered. There's a couple hundred of them brains on thecorner there now, I reckon, and they can't go nowheres till thatconstabule gives the word! Huh!" he snorts, turnin' away. "All just alot of rubes, that's all!"

  We get in a taxi and all the way up Alex kept lookin' out the window,shakin' his head and mutterin' somethin' about Manhattan bein' awell-advertised bunk and all the inhabitants thereof bein' hicks. Idon't know whether he was after my goat or not, but in a few minutes hehad it.

  "Listen, gentle stranger," I says, when nature could stand no more, "Irealize that New York is nothin' but a flag st
ation and that we're allReubens and chew hay, but we have, amongst other things, six millionmerry villagers, the biggest buildings in the world, the subway,gunmen, cabarets, Broadway, and--well, a lot of things that you gottaadmit ain't hit dear old Vermont as yet!"

  "And I most sincerely hope and trust they never will!" pipes Alex. "Wedon't need 'em! We got good, clean mountain air, plenty of honestgreen grass and--and--_neighbors_! There's just a few things you ain'tgot in New York. Cousin Alice tells me she was here two years beforeshe knowed the folks in the next flat. That shows you people issuspicious. You know you're rubes and you're afraid to welcome thestranger for fear he'll sell you one of them, now, gold bricks. I alsohear you pay five and six dollars for a seat at an entertainment. Youso-called wise New Yorkers pays that much for tickets and then go inand laugh your fool heads off at a scene showin' a, now, farmer bein'stung! Ha, ha, ha! You--"

  We was up at the flat then, and I let him rave on, tryin' not to getpeeved, so's we'd have some peace and quiet in the family. I knew ifhe kept on pannin' my town, I'd get sore and bite him or somethin'--andthen the wife wouldn't gimme no smile for a month. Alex was a new oneon me so far, but I figured that in a couple of days he'd be tellin'the world that New York was the greatest place on earth and people thatlived anywheres else must be nutty--the way they all do.

  After supper the wife calls up a girl friend of hers so's we can makeup a little theatre party. Me and Alex goes into the parlor for asmoke, and I asked him how he come to be in our mongst if he alreadyknowed what a hick town New York was.

  "I come here to make good," he tells me, "because, in my opinion, thisis the easiest place in the world to do that thing. This town is nodifferent than Ann Harbor or New Haven, except that it's bigger--that'sall! The trouble with most fellows that come here from a small townis, they let New York get under their skin and it takes their nervebefore they get started. Advertisin' is what has made this town whatit is to-day and nothin' else. It's easier to make good here than itis in a burg, because in your own town everybody knows you and nowfourflushin' will get you nothin'. There's so many people here that afeller can keep _some_ of 'em guessin' all the time. All anybody needsto get ahead here is confidence--"

  "Well," I butts in, "if all a guy needs is confidence, you ought to bea knockout! What are you figurin' on doin' first?"

  "I'll look around to-morrow," he says. "I wanna start off with thehardest proposition in the town right away. Out in my town five of usfellers formed a little club. Each of us has swore to come to New Yorkone after the other and make good in six months to a year, just to showyou folks how easy it is. For one thing, we all got our own privatelittle plans for winnin' out here and every one of us is goin' to go atthe proposition from a brand new angle. I was elected to be the firstone, and that's why I'm here."

  "Alex," I says, "you're an ambitious feller, and I gotta hand it toyou. I don't doubt you'll go a long ways at that, if you don't getpinched for speedin'. But this stuff you're pullin' about dear oldManhattan gets under my collar! I hate to hear you pan the capital ofthe world in that rough way of yours, and when you claim it's a simplematter to make good here, you have gone and pulled a bone. If it's assoft as you say, I must of lost the combination or somethin', becauseit took me thirty years to get over right here, and, at that, I ain'tcausin' Rockefeller or George M. Cohan no worry! So just to show youthat your dope is all wrong and that you're due to hit the bumps if youplay it out, I'll lay you eight to five you muff the very first thingyou try here--what d'ye say?"

  He looks at me for a minute and shakes his head.

  "I don't want to deprive my Cousin Alice of no luxuries," he tells me,"or I'd snap you right up on that."

  "I see they're still makin' 'em yellah up in Vermont!" I sneers.

  "D'ye mean to insinuate that I'm a quitter?" he asks me, gettin' red.

  "You ought to be a fortune teller!" I says.

  "By gravy, I'll take you up!" he hollers. "I got five hundred dollarsin my left shoe and I might as well add to it now as later. I'll betyou the five hundred to your eight hundred that the first thing Itackle here, I make good!"

  "You hate yourself, don't you?" I says.

  "Who's yellah now?" he comes back.

  "The canary," I tells him. "You're on!"

  Just then the door-bell rings, and they was sounds of kissin' by womenprincipals in the hall. In walks the wife with what looks to me like aopium-eater's dream and a Fifth Avenue evenin' gown model combined.Alex takes one flash and turns red, white and blue.

  "This is my friend Eve Rossiter," says the wife. "My husband, Eve, andmy cousin, Alex Hanley."

  "Charmed!" breathes Eve, pullin' a smile that lit up the room.

  "Me and you both!" I says.

  But Alex clears his throat, grits his teeth and flushes up. They was aglitter in his eye and he begins to talk fast and hard.

  "Howdy, Miss Rossiter!" he says, shakin' hands like he was bein' give aknockdown to the new bartender. "I'm astounded to meet you! I justcome to New York to-day, but if I'd of knowed you was here, I'd of beenhere long ago. However, I'm here now and better late than forever, asthe feller says. I just bet my cousin here that the first thing Itried my hand at in New York I'd make good. I'm goin' out to-morrowand show him how easy it is for a feller to get to the top in this hereprize rube burg, provided he has now gumption and his methods is new.I'll see you to-morrow night and let you know how I made out; I knowyou won't have no peace till you hear about it!" He digs into hispockets feverishly and grabs out a handful of letters. "Here's whatthey thought of me up in Vermont!" he goes on, never takin' his eyesoff the girl's face. The wife is starin' at him with her mouth andeyes as open as a crap tourney, like she figured he'd gone nutty--andme and Little Eva is runnin' neck and neck at tryin' to keep fromlaughin'. "They say a man that can make good in New York can make goodanywhere," he goes on, throwin' the clutch into high again. "_I_ say aman that can make good anywhere can make good in New York! What's thedifference between New York and Goose Creek, Iowa?--New York's got morepeople in it, that's all! It's harder--"

  "Alex, Alex!" butts in the wife, finally regainin' control of hervoice. "What is the matter with you? You--"

  "Hush!" says Alex, turnin' back to Eve again. "It's harder to makegood in a little town than it is in a big one, because--"

  "Alex, look here!" cuts in the wife, gettin' sore. "Miss Rossiterain't interested in that patter of yours--we're goin' to the theatre.Now both you men run along and dress, we'll miss half the show as itis!"

  "I'll be right back!" chirps Alex to Eve. "Them eyes of yours issimply now dumfoundin'!"

  I took Alex in my boudoir and while I'm gettin' in the banquetuneyform, he takes a thing that was a cross between a tuxedo and adress suit out of his bag and dolls up. When set for the street, Alexwas no Greek god, but he was fairly easy to look at, if you closed oneeye. He wanted to know what kind of an entertainment they had at theopry house this week, and I told him I'd show him somethin' that hadthem huskin' bees, he was used to up in Vermont, beat eighty ways fromthe jack.

  Well, we go to the biggest musical show on Broadway, and instead offaintin' dead away from joy, Alex claims it was rotten and spent thenight explainin' to Eve how he was gonna take New York the nextmornin'. After the show we went to a cabaret and still no rise out ofAlex. He was off the gay whirl, he says, and his idea of a holiday wasto sit beside his own fireside, readin' yesterday's mail, while hiswife made the room resound with melody by hummin' "Silver Threads AmongThe Gold," the while knittin' a doily for the front-room table.

  At this, Eve, which has been gazin' at Alex all night like he was ConeyIsland and she was gettin' her first peep, asks if he was married.

  "Don't crowd me!" he tells her, tappin' her arm playfully. "I ain'tgonna get married till I make good. By to-morrow night, though, Ireckon I'll be in a position to talk it over with you!"

  "Ooooh!!" gasps Eve, turnin' a becomin' shade of red. Can you tell me
why them big league dames fall for these guys like Alex? If you can dothat, I got an easy one for you--I wanna know who started the world.From one flash at Eve, bein' a married man, I could tell where she'd bethe next night when Alex called--and it wouldn't be--out! The nextminute Eve laughed and tells Alex if he's got as much ability as he hasnerve, he ought to have New York on its ear in twenty-four hours. Thewife asks him will he kindly lay off pesterin' her girl friend to deathand quit boostin' himself for a minute, because we was out for pleasureand he had played the one record all night.

  "Go on, Mister Hanley," butts in Eve, "I love to hear you talk. You'reso different from any one else I've met, and I really believe you_will_ do something big here, because you're--well--new!"

  "You have remarked somethin'!" agrees Alex. "I'm gonna show 'emsomethin' they never seen before and make 'em like it!"

  Well, he takes Eve home that night for a starter, and the next mornin'he's up bright and early at seven, ready to startle Manhattan. He saidhe wanted me to go out with him and watch him win my eight hundredbucks and also to notice the way he worked. He picks up the mornin'paper, runs through the "Help Wanted" columns for a minute and finallyclears his throat.

  "Aha!" he says. "Listen to this--'Wanted. High class automobilesalesman for the Gaflooey light delivery wagon. We have no time forexperiments and successful applicant must make good at once. We don'twant an order taker, but an order _maker_--a real, live, simon-purehustler who will start delivering the goods the morning he goes on thepayroll. This job pays ten thousand a year, if you show us you'reworth it. Apply personally all day and bring references. This isimperative. We want to see your past record of sales elsewhere. Askfor Mr. Grattan, 1346 Broadway. If you haven't the experience, don'tcome!'"

  "Well?" I says.

  He puts down the paper and reaches for his hat.

  "They'll probably be a lot after that there job, hey?" he asks me.

  "About four thousand, I'd say offhand!" I grins.

  "Fine!" he says, rubbin' his hands and smilin', "I love competitionbecause it puts a feller on his mettle. Now look here, if I go downthere and secure that job this mornin', do I get your eight hundreddollars?"

  "What?" I hollers. "What d'ye mean, do you get my eight hundred?"

  "Listen!" he says. "The bet was that I make good at the first thing Itackle, wasn't it--all right! Now this here job looks good to me. Tenthousand a year is nice money to start. If you're fair minded, you'lladmit that in goin' after this job I'm up against a pretty stiffproposition. In the first place I don't know no more about automobilesthan you do about raisin' hogs. I never sold one in my life. I don'tknow a soul in New York outside of you, Cousin Alice and that girl Itook home last night, so I can't furnish no references on my ability asa salesman. The advertisement says you have to have 'em. As you say,they'll be thousands after that job. Fellers with swell fronts, highsoundin' records in back of 'em and gilt-edged references. Now underall that handicap, if I walk in there and get the job, won't you admitI made good?"

  "If you go down and ask for that job and they turn you down, you'll payme, eh?" I asks him.

  "At once!" he says, firmly.

  "C'mon, Alex!" I tells him, puttin' on my hat. "I hate to cop a suckerbet like this, but maybe losin' it will reduce the size of your head atrifle and do you good!"

  Once out in the street, he stretches his arms, pulls his hat down hardover his dome and stamps his feet.

  "Watch me close!" he says. "Watch me close and you'll get somevaluable tips on how to put yourself over. I told you I was gonna benew--just observe how I go after this job. The average New Yorker whowanted it would go right down to the office, present his, now,credentials and ask for it, wouldn't he?"

  I nodded.

  "The early worm catches the fish, y'know!" I says; "and in New Yorkhere--the town that made pep and hustle famous--a man would be downthere at six a.m. waitin' for the place to open. Why, there's prob'lya hundred or more there right now!"

  "I hope there's a million!" he comes back. "It'll be more satisfactionwhen they hire me over all them others. Now I ain't goin' near thatthere office as yet. My system gets away from the old stuff--just keepyour eye on Cousin Alex from now on!"

  He buys a newspaper, finds the automobile section and, finally, a bigdisplay advertisement of the Gaflooey Auto Company. He takes out aletter from his pocket and on the back of it he marks the price, style,and a lot of other dope about Gaflooey light delivery wagons and thenthrows the paper away.

  "Now," he grins, "I'm all ready, except to give them folks my full namefor the payroll!"

  At that minute, somebody slaps me on the back and I swing around to seeBuck Rice chucklin' at me. Buck used to be one of the best secondbasemen that ever picked up a bat, till his legs went back on him andhe got into the automobile game. I remember thinkin' how funny it wasthat he come along right then when me and Alex was talkin' about autos.

  "Well, how are they breakin', Buck?" I says, shakin' hands andintroducin' Alex.

  "I think I have fanned with the bases loaded again," he laughs. "I putin five hours to-day tryin' to get the Mastadon Department Store to putin a line of six-cylinder Katzes on their delivery system. I got aprivate tip that they're changin' from the Mutz-36 and the first orderwill be about eighty cars. Of course that's a sweet piece of money forsomebody and everybody in New York will be there to-day tryin' to grabthat order off. You might as well try to sell radiators in Hadesthough, because Munson, the bird that does the purchasin', is stuck onthe Clarendon and he wouldn't buy anything else if they was givin' 'emaway!"

  "Well, that's tough, Buck!" I sympathizes.

  "Sure is!" he says, givin' me and Alex a quarter perfecto and grinnin'some more to show how disappointed he feels. "But I should worry! IfI lose that one, I'll get another, so what's the difference?" He turnsto Alex, "Y'know in New York here," he confides, "we don't have no timeto hold no coroner's inquests over failures. We forget about 'em andgo after somethin' else--always on the job, get me? You'll learn afteryou're here a while--that's what makes the town what it is. If Istopped to moan over every order I didn't put across, I'd be nowhereto-day. Nope, you can't do that in New York!"

  "Another of them there New Yorkers, hey?" sneers Alex to me, after Buckhas blowed. "Don't you see how that feller proves my argyment abouthow simple it is to make good here? From the way he's dressed--them,now, diamonds and so forth--he's probably a big feller in his line.Makin' plenty of money and looked on as a success by the ig'rant. Yethe lets a big order get away from him when it was practically a cinchto land it!"

  "Say, listen!" I yelps--this bird was gettin' on my nerves. "Iffour-flushin' was water, you'd be the Pacific Ocean! You gimme a painwith that line of patter you got, and as far as salesmanship isconcerned, I'll bet you couldn't sell a porterhouse steak to a guydyin' of hunger. I'd like to see _you_ land an order like Buck spokeof, you--"

  "That's just what you're gonna do!" he butts in. "You're gonna see_me_ land that very order he told us about--what d'ye think of that,hey?"

  I stopped dead and gazed upon him.

  "You're gonna which?" I asks him.

  "I'm gonna land that order from that department store!" he repeats,grabbin' my arm. "C'mon--show me how to get there!"

  I fell up against a lamp post and laughed till a passin' dame remarkedto her friend that it was an outrage the way some guys drank. Then Iled Alex to the subway.

  "Listen," I says. "What about this job you was gonna get? Of courseyou know if you quit, I win the bet."

  "Quit?" he says. "Where have I heard the word before? Who saidanything about quittin'? I'm gonna get that order and I'm gonna getthat job!"

  "Fair enough!" I tells him, "but you're goin' at the thing backwards.How are you gonna take an order for autos when you ain't got no autosto sell? I suppose you figure on grabbin' the ten thousand dollar jobfirst and then makin' good with a loud crash by landin' the big order,eh?"

  He shak
es his head and sighs pityin'ly.

  "Would there be anything new and original about that?" he asks.

  "No!" I says, "there wouldn't! But I don't see how you're gonna winout any other way."

  "Of course you don't!" he sneers. "You're a New Yorker, ain't you?I'm supposed to be the rube, simply because I wasn't born on SixthAvenue. Now I already told you my methods was new, didn't I? Anybodywould work the thing the way you lay it out--and probably land neitherthe job nor the order. What a chance would I have goin' up there andaskin' for that job first? Where would I come out against all themsellin' experts with letters and so forth to prove it? Why, they'dlaugh me outa the office! _B-u-t!--if I go to them with an order forfifty or sixty of their cars as actual proof that I can sell not onlyautos, but their autos_, what will they say, then? D'ye see the pointnow? They ask me for a reference and I reach in my pocket and givethem the order, _which I've got before applyin' for the job_, to proveto myself and them that I can sell automobiles!"

  Oh, boy!

  "Alex," I says, when I got my breath, "I gotta hand it to you! When itcomes to inventin' things, you got Edison lookin' like a backwardpupil. Go to it, old kid! If you put this over the way you have justtold it to me, you'll own Broadway in a week!"

  "I'm figurin' on ten days!" he says.

  We arrive at the Mastadon Department Store and shoot up in the elevatorto the office of G. C. Munson, the general manager. Alex has beenreadin' the notes he made on Gaflooey delivery wagons like the same wasa French novel, and, by the time we got there, he could repeat theiradvertisement by heart. He starts to breeze right into the office andsome dame appears on the scene and nails him.

  "One moment, please!" she says, very cold--givin' Alex a look that tookin everything from his hick clothes to his rube haircut. "This happensto be a private office. Whom did you desire to see?"

  "If I thought they was anybody prettier than you here, I'd ask to havethem brought out," says Alex, in that simple rube way of his which giveno offense, "but of course I know that's impossible. Still, as long asI'm here, I'd like to see Mister Munson."

  The dame melts and releases a smile.

  "What did you wish to see him about?" she asks.

  "About ten minutes," pipes Alex. "D'ye know there's somethin' aboutthem navy blue eyes of yours that makes me think of my mother--isn'tthat funny?"

  The dame surrenders and shows Alex all her nice front teeth.

  "I'll see if Mister Munson is in," she says, handin' him a card, "butyou'll have to fill this out."

  Alex looks at the card which had this on it,

  Mr ...................................

  Desires to see .......................

  Regarding ............................

  He laughs suddenly, takes out his fountain pen and fills the thing out.Lookin' over his shoulder I seen him write this,

  Mr......... _Alex Hanley_

  Desires to see ...... _Mr. Munson_.

  Regarding .... _The price of petrified noodles in Siberia_.

  "There," he says, handin' it to the girl without a smile, "give that toMister Munson."

  She takes it in without lookin' at it.

  "Well, you crabbed any chance you might of had, right off the bat!" Isays to Alex. "He'll get so sore when he reads that, he won't even letyou in."

  "Let him get sore!" chirps Alex. "He'll not only get sore, he'll getcurious and then again I'm figurin' on him bein' human, besides bein'general manager and havin' a sense of humor! He's probably beenpestered with auto salesmen all day--if I wrote my real business onthat card he'd send word he was out. As it is, he'll read it and hewon't be able to resist the, now, temptation to get one look at afeller which would want to know from a man in his position the price ofpetrified noodles in Siberia. No matter what happens afterwards, he'llwant one look--wouldn't you?"

  Before I can answer, the dame comes out laughin'.

  "Step in," she says. "Mister Munson will see you."

  "Now!" hisses Alex, as we ease in on the velvet carpet. "Watch how _I_go about sellin' autos. Y'see I got a nibble already because I wasnew! I--Howdy, Mister Munson!"

  We was in the private office.

  Munson was a little, keen-faced guy--bald, nervous and fat. He looksup over his glasses with Alex's card in his hand--and Alex looks back.In one second they had each found out all they wanted to know about theother.

  "What's the meaning of this nonsense?" barks Munson.

  Alex walks over to the desk, wets his lips and gets goin'.

  "Mister Munson," he says, "if you called on a man at his office, wouldyou care to write your business on a card for the office boy to read?No--you would not! A big man like you would probably tear the card up,leave the office in a, now, rage and never return! You'd be insulted,your, now, dignity would be hurt, eh? You might be from out of townand comin' here to leave a big order and that little thing--prob'lyinvented by one of your New York efficiency stars--would make you somad you'd go away and order where they wasn't so efficient, but alittle more courteous! Look at that card--the, now, wordin' of it.Look how cold and hard it is! No warmth, no 'glad-to-see-you-strangerwhat-can-my-house-do-for-you?' about it. It's like a slap in the face!Maybe it does keep the panhandlers away, but did you ever figure howmany orders it must have cost you, hey?"

  Munson has listened to every word, first with a heavy frown and thenwith a kind of thoughtful look on his face. He taps the desk with alead pencil, reads the card a couple of times and then slams his fiston the desk.

  "By Peter, young man!" he snaps out suddenly, "you may be right! Thewording of that office blank _is_ rather insulting, now that I dissectit--been too busy before to notice it. Yes, sir, I _would_ resenthaving my business blatted out before a whole staff of subordinates!There must be some way, of course, to keep out the hordes of joblessand what not who would get in if it wasn't for that blank and now, bythe eternal, we'll find one less liable to turn away gold withthe--er--grist! I thank you for the suggestion. And now, what did youwant to see me about?"

  "Automobiles," says Alex, "and--"

  Munson freezes right up and slaps his hands together.

  "That's enough!" he snarls. "Perhaps that office blank of ours is notso bad after all! If you had filled it out properly, you wouldn't behere. I've heard enough about autos to-day to last me for the rest ofmy life. Yesterday, I mentioned casually, and I thought in confidence,that we were considering a change in our delivery system. Beginning ateight this morning, there has been a constant stream of automobilesalesmen in this office! The only persons who have not tried to sellme automobiles are George Washington, Jack Dempsey and Billy Sunday!I'm quite sure every one else has been here. The air has been filledwith magnetos, self-starters, sliding gear transmissions, aluminumcrank cases and all that other damnable technical stuff that goes withautomobiles! You need not open your mouth--I know exactly what yoursales talk is, they're all alike, more or less. Your car is far andaway the best on the market, of course, and--"

  "Excuse me, Mister Munson!" butts in Alex. "You get me all wrong. Ourcar--the Gaflooey--is _not_ the best on the market. There are othersjust as good and some of the higher priced ones are, naturally, better.You can't expect the best on the market for the price we sell at--750.A man of your intelligence knows that and when a salesman tells you hisfive hundred dollar car is better than a standard make at fivethousand, he's insulting your intelligence. We make a good, honestcar--that's all. I ain't gonna take up your time tellin' you aboutthe--eh--ah--the--eh, magneto and so forth. Unless you're a mechanic,you wouldn't understand about 'em anyways. All the parts that go withany car are on ours, or it wouldn't work--that's understood. However,as I said before, I ain't gonna take up your time. I know how you NewYorkers do business, and you've probably made your mind up already.You big men are all zip!--like that. Mind made up and nothin' canchange you. Even if you do miss somethin' good now and then, you don'tmind because you have the satisfaction of
bein' known as a quickthinker. We just got in a new consignment of cars to-day and if you'reinterested our place is at 1346 Broadway. Well, good-day, sir!" hewinds up, reachin' for his hat.

  "Wait!" says Munson, takin' off his glasses and wipin' 'em. "You're anew one on me, son! So you admit you haven't got the greatest autothat was ever made, eh?" he chuckles. "By Peter! That sounds strangeafter all the talk I been listening to to-day. If your car is ashonest as you seem to be, it's all right!" He sits lookin' off in theair, tappin' the desk with the pencil again.

  Alex nudges me and we start for the door. Halfway he stops and looksat a photo that's framed over the desk. It's a picture of a barn, somechickens and a couple of cows.

  "Right fine landscape, that!" chirps Alex to Munson. "Makes a fellerlike me homesick to look at it. Them are sure fine Jerseys, too--andsay, see them pullets, would you!"

  "That's my little farm down on Long Island," says Munson, throwin' outhis chest. "I suppose that makes you laugh, eh? Big, grown New Yorkerhaving a farm, eh?"

  "Mister," says Alex, sadly, "it don't make _me_ laugh! I was raised ona farm in Vermont and--"

  "That so?" cuts in Munson, lookin' interested. "Country boy, eh?"

  "Yep," goes on Alex. "Now, speakin' of them pullets there--if you'dtry 'em on a straight diet of bran and potatoes--pound of each--they'llfatten up quicker."

  "Yes?" pipes Munson, brightenin' up some more. "Well, well!And--hmph! Thanks, Mister Hanley, I'll make a note of that.Now--eh--sit down a minute! I don't want to take your time, but--eh,what did you find best back home for saving the young chicks? Whatfoods--"

  "I'll just leave you a few little rules," says Alex, his eyesglitterin', as he rams his elbow a mile in my ribs. "I got to call onanother department store this afternoon, where I'm almost certain totake an order and--"

  "Young man!" Munson shuts him off, "I'm frank enough to say that you'vemade a very favorable impression on me. You're honest about your car,and you didn't try to overawe me by hurling a lot of unintelligibletechnical terms into my ear. You don't claim it's the bargain of theage. Now we have recently inaugurated right here in this store apolicy of absolute honesty with regard to our merchandise. Nomisrepresentations are permitted. We sell our goods for what theyare--we don't allow a clerk to tell a customer that he's getting afive-dollar shirt for two dollars. I can't get the car I want to putin here--they want too much money and their salesman spent most of histime here speaking in terms that none but a master mechanic on theirown auto would understand. I'm a pretty good judge of character andyou look good to me. Give me a price on fifty of your cars forimmediate delivery and--well, let's hear your figures!"

  Alex drops his hat on the floor, but when he picked it up, he was ascool as a dollar's worth of ice.

  "Just a minute," he says, sittin' down and reachin' for a desktelephone. He gets the Gaflooey Company on the wire.

  "Hello!" he says. "Say--I want a lump price on fifty deliverywagons--what?--never mind who this is, if the price is right I'll comeup." He winks at Munson like he's lettin' him in on somethin'--and, bygravy, Munson winks back! "Yes--fifty," says Alex on the wire."Thirty-five thousand dollars?--thank you!" He hangs up the phone andturns to Munson. "They'll give you twenty-five hundred off, accordin'to that figure," he says.

  Munson grabs up a pad and writes somethin' on it.

  "There!" he says, givin' it to Alex. "Tell 'em to get as many carsover here to-morrow as they can. Get your bill and I'll O.K. it.Now--" he pulls his chair over closer, "About those chicks and--oh,yes, I want your opinion on some figures I have here on my truck--"

  An hour later, me and Alex walks into the salesroom of the GaflooeyAutomobile Company. I was in a trance, and if he had of promised tolift the Singer Buildin' with one hand I would of laid the world eightto five he could do it! The whole place is in confusion--salesmenchasin' around, telephonin' and actin' like they just heard they was abomb in the basement. Alex asks for the manager, and some guy chancesover and asks what he wants.

  "I have come for that ten thousand a year job you advertised thismornin'," says Alex.

  "Job?" howls the manager, glarin' at him. "You poor boob, can't yousee how busy we are here now? We just got a tip on a real order--fiftycars, and we can't trace the thing!" He rubs his hands together."Fifty cars! That's how the Gaflooey sells--fifty at a time!" Hesneers at Alex. "Your approach is terrible!" he says. "You'll neverland a job in this town like that, my boy. Go somewhere first andlearn how to interest a busy man with the first thing you say and--"

  "Listen!" butts in Alex. "Gimme that job, will you, or I'll have to gosomewhere else."

  The manager laughs, as a couple of salesmen come along and join him.They all sneer at Alex and the manager nudges his minions and winks.

  "So you think you're a ten thousand dollar auto salesman, eh?" he says."Ah--who can you refer to?" He makes a bluff at takin' down notes.

  "Mister Munson, of the Mastadon Department Store," says Alex.

  "Ha, ha, ha!" roars the manager. "Department store, eh--that's rich!You quit the shirtwaist department to sell autos, eh? Ha, ha, ha!What does a department store manager know of your ability to sellautos?" he snarls.

  "Well,--I just sold him fifty of _yours_!" remarks Alex. "So Ithought--"

  "What?" shrieks the manager, grabbin' his arm.

  Alex hands over the order Munson give him.

  "Now before I go to work here," he says, "it might be a good idea tolet me look over one of your cars, because, to tell you the truth, Iain't never seen one of 'em in my life!"

  Well, they had Munson on the phone in a minute and in another one themanager hangs up the receiver and comes back.

  "Do I get the job?" asks Alex.

  "Do you get the job!" yells friend manager, slappin' him on the back."No, you don't get it--only if you leave here without signing your nameto a five-year contract and accepting a check for fifteen hundreddollars' commission and as much more as you want to draw on yourexpense account, I'll--I'll--murder you! But first, you lunch with meat the Fitz-Barlton and we'll map out a campaign--"

  "Gimme that eight hundred!" says Alex to me.

  I passed it over still semi-conscious.

  Alex stretches his arms, puts the money away and grins.

  "Get me that Eve girl on the phone, will you?" he tells me. "I--I hada little bet with her, too!" He lights the cigar Buck Rice had givehim in the mornin', blows out some smoke and looks over at Broadway,jammed with the matinee crowd. "Some burg!" he says, shakin' his headand grinnin' at me!