Alex the Great Read online

  CHAPTER V

  YOU CAN DO IT!

  A guy once said, "Be sure you're right, then go ahead!" and like thebird which invented the sayin', "What are you gonna have?" he becamefamous on that one line. They's millions of people have repeated bothof them remarks since. As far as the last one is concerned, it's aboutdied out now and cracked ice has started gettin' acquainted withlemonade and the like instead of its old haunts, Scotch, Rye and Gin,which has pulled a Rip Van Winkle. I never told no man I was a fortuneteller, but if I was a bartender right now, believe me, I'd spend mynights off studyin' the art of makin' chocolate nut sundaes andpineapple ice cream sodas, because the time has come with alarmin'suddenness when alcohol will be used only for rubbin' baby's head whenhe falls off of the table and the like.

  However, that ain't neither here or there, as the guy says whichmislaid his watch, so let's get back to the bird which said, "Be sureyou're right, then go ahead!" That may be a good line, but it's poordope for the young. I'll tell the world fair that no winner ever gotpaid off by stickin' strictly to that. If Columbus had waited tillsomebody sent him a souvenir postal from the Bronx, so's he'd be surethey really was some choice real estate over here, he never would ofdiscovered America. Napoleon would never of got further than bein' abuck private in the army if he'd of played safe instead of goin' aheadon the "I Should Worry!" plan. I could name a million more guys whichgot over along the same lines only I hate to walk to the library. Butpick up any newspaper and the front page will give you the answer. Theguys that go over the top in this well known universe are the boyswhich goes ahead _first_ and figures what chances they got afterwards.They let the results they get tell whether they're _right_ or not. Idon't mean a guy should bust the traffic laws of any of the prominentvirtues in order to be a success, they ain't a game on earth that can'tbe played on the level and won clean, but instead of askin' yourself,"Can I do it?" say, "This will be _soft_ for me!" and you're a odds onfavorite to win!

  Me and the wife is sittin' down to breakfast one mornin', and I havebarely had time to find fault with the eggs when they's a ring at thebell.

  "See who that is, will you, dear?" says the wife, turnin' a page of the_Mornin' Shrapnel_ and shootin' the smile that used to jam the WinterGarden in my direction. "You know how tired I am in the mornings."

  "Yeh," I says, very sarcastical. "Eatin' grape fruit is enough to weardown the strongest. Since how long have I became the maid around here?"

  "Before we were married," she says, sinkin' the last of the cream inher coffee--a thing she knows full well practically always enrages me."Before we was wed, you claimed you'd do anything for me."

  "A man can kid, can't he?" I says.

  "Don't get catty, dear," says the wife, still featurin' that milliondollar smile. "Hurry, there goes the bell again. You really shouldput on your collar and tie before answering the door, too."

  "Who d'ye think is payin' us a call--Wilson?" I says. "I ain'tsupposed to wear a dress suit in to breakfast, am I?"

  They is no answer from the trenches across the table, outside of themunchin' of food, and as our door bell is makin' the telephone greenwith envy from the way it was ringin', I went out and opened theportals to our flat.

  In comes Alex the Great, undisputed champion pest of the world.

  He throws his hat on the sofa, kisses the wife, pulls a chair up to thetable and reaches over for the paper. Every one of them things is surefire for gettin' my goat!

  "No wonder you people never get nowheres!" he remarks. "Sleepin' awayhalf the day. Here it is eleven o'clock and you just havin' breakfast!I was up at six, had a ice cold bath and walked ten miles."

  "I wish you had of made it eleven!" I says.

  "Why?" he asks me.

  "Because," I says, "that would of brung you a even two blocks past ourhouse and I could of had my breakfast in peace."

  "How often have I told you that I don't come here to see you?" hesnarls. "If it wasn't for Cousin Alice, I'd never come near your flat!"

  "You stayed away a month once," I says, "and she managed to keep out ofthe hospitals."

  "Oh, hush!" says the wife. "You boys are always snappin' at eachother. A outsider would think you was in business together orsomething. How is everything, Alex?"

  "Fine!" he says, rubbin' his hands together and castin' a hungry eyeover the bacon and eggs. "I already had a breakfast fit for a king,but the early mornin' air gimme a fresh appetite. I think I couldstand a little of that bacon and--"

  "They's only one piece left," I says, spearin' it with my fork. "Tryand get it!"

  "Will you be still?" says the wife. "We have plenty in the ice box,Alex, if you want some."

  "Don't be blowin' about how much food we got in the ice box," I says."They may be some spies from Hoover's office around."

  "That reminds me," says Alex, makin' the best of it by devourin' allthe crackers and jam. "I expect to go to Washington this week andoffer my services to Mister Hoover."

  "What was you thinkin' of doing for Mister Hoover, Alex?" says the wife.

  "I got a scheme for--," he begins, when I ceased firin' on the baconand eggs and arose.

  "Listen!" I butts in. "I don't like to walk out in the middle of youract, Alex, but I gotta date. I have just bought a infielder fromJersey City which they tell me is a second Ty Cobb. The last guy whichcome recommended to me like that acted like hittin' the ball was afelony and he must of figured that droppin' grounders put Cobb over. Ihave give everything but the franchise for this new bird, and I wannasee right now if he's one of them things or a ball player."

  "Don't make no engagements for to-night," says the wife, "because we'regoin' to the movies with them lovely Wilkinsons."

  "Who's them lovely Wilkinsons?" I says.

  "You could spend a year at the bottom of the ocean and never getacquainted with a fish!" says the wife. "The Wilkinsons is the peoplewhich just moved in across the hall. Her husband is a salesman for abig wholesale clothing house downtown and if you're nice to him he canprob'ly get you a raincoat or something, for a great deal differentprice than you'd pay yourself."

  "Yeh," I says. "It would no doubt cost me about ten bucks _more_, if Ibought it from him! I know them birds. That guy will gimme his cardand send me down to the foundry where he works, and they'll sell mesomethin' which has graced their shelves for the last ten years, at tenper cent over the retail price. The public will laugh me outa wearin'it and, on top of that, this guy will want the first five rows at theworld's series for doin' me the favor! Anyways, I don't need noraincoat, I got two already."

  "I never seen nobody like you," says the wife. "I'll bet you think thewar was a frame-up! Accordin' to you, nobody or nothin' is on thelevel, and the whole world and Yonkers is out to give you the work. Ihave already talked with Mister Wilkinson, which is a nice littleinnocent fellow and not a brute like you which battles night and daywith his wife, and he will have a raincoat up here for you to-morrow."

  I throwed up my hands!

  "How much is it?" I says.

  "Practically nothin'," says the wife. "Forty-five dollars."

  Oh, boy!

  "Listen!" I says, openin' the door. "Unless that bird has give you hisage in mistake for the price of the raincoat, you can tell him that ifI had forty-five bucks to hurl away like that I wouldn't wear noraincoat. I wouldn't care if it rained or not!"

  "It's one of the latest trench models," says the wife. "I got two ofthem. One for myself."

  "You and that lovely little Wilkinson will have to shoot craps for themthen!" I hollers. "I wouldn't let him take me for ninety bucks if--"

  "They are both paid for long ago," smiles the wife, pinchin' my cheek,and pullin' the smile that used to get her photo in the magazines. "Igive him a check last week!"

  As unfortunately I am nothin' but human, I beat it before they wasviolence and bloodshed. I was afraid to trust myself with speech, butI managed to let off a little steam before I left by throwin' threepil
lows and a Rumanian beer stein at Alex, havin' caught him grinnin'at me like a idiot.

  It was about six hours before I got back and my temper had failed toimprove with age, havin' had a rough day at the ball park. We played adouble-header with the Phillies and lost a even two games. Both thescores sounded more like Rockefeller's income tax than anything else.Iron Man Swain pitched the first game for us and before five innin'shad come and went, I found out that the only thing iron about him washis nerve in drawin' wages as a pitcher. Everybody connected with thePhilly team but the batboy got a hit and from the way them guys runaround the bases it looked more like a six-day race than a ball game!

  I sent in Red Mitchel to pitch the second half of the massacre, and allhe had was a boil on his arm. As far as his offerin's was concerned,everybody on the Philly club could of been christened Home Run Baker.When he throwed the ball on the clubhouse roof tryin' to get a guynappin' off first, lettin' in two extry runs instead, I went out to thebox and removed him by hand. Ed Raymond finished the game for us, andhe's so scared we might win it that he walks the first three men andknocks the fourth guy cold with a inshoot. I didn't even stay to seethe finish--I had enough!

  One of the features of the day was the work of this so-called "SecondTy Cobb" at short. He come to bat eleven times in the two games andgot one hit. That was a left jab from the Philly first baseman whichgot peeved at bein' called a liar and bounced one off the Second TyCobb's ear. At fieldin' he made more errors than the Kaiser and wasjust as popular with the crowd. I give up five thousand berries and aoutfielder for him, and after them two games I couldn't of sold him asa watch charm to the manager of a high school club!

  From all of this you may get an idea of the sweet humor I was in when Iblowed into the flat that night. My idea was to put on the feed bag,and then go around to the corner and play a little pinochle with thegang. Like the guy which fell off Washington's Monument I was doomedto disappointment, because they was quite a little reception committeeawaitin' me. Among them present besides the wife was Alex and themlovely Wilkinsons.

  The lovely Wilkinsons consisted of the regular set--husband and wife.They had only been wed about three weeks, new time, and from the waythey behaved towards each other, a innocent bystander would think theyhad only staggered away from the altar a hour before. They sittogether on the sofa, three inches closer to each other than the paperis to the wall and both of them must of been palmists judgin' from theway they hung on to each other's hands. The male of the layout is ahusky kid which either come direct from one of the college footballteams or had just knocked off posin' for the lingerie ads in thesubway. The female would of been a knockout, if my wife had been inDenver, but bein' in the same room with her the best Mrs. Wilkinsoncould do was to finish a good second. They is one thing about thewife, they may be dames which can knit sweaters faster than her, butwhen it comes to bein' excitin' to gaze upon she leads the league! Idon't have to tell the world that, the world keeps tellin' it to me.This here is far from our first season as matrimoniacs, and when I saythat it still makes me dizzy to look at her, you may get a idea of howshe checks up.

  But to get back to them lovely Wilkinsons, they are sittin' there onthe sofa keepin' a close eye on each other, and Alex is givin' 'emeverything he's got in the line of chatter. They're both payin' thesame undivided attention to him that the Board of Aldermen inAfghanistan pays to the primaries in Bird's Nest, Va. Them babies istoo busy gazin' on each other and bein' happy, and while that stuffgets silly at times--they is worse things than that.

  After we have got the introductions all took care of, the wife rushesme down to Delicatessen Row to grab off some extry food on account ofthese added starters at our modest evenin' meal. I got a armful ofthese here liberty links, _nee_ frankfurters, and some liberty cabbagewhich before the Kaiser went nutty was knowed as sauerkraut. Theyain't no use callin' off all the other little trinkets I got to helpmake the table look tasty, especially as Mister Hoover is liable toscan this and I don't wanna get myself in wrong, but when I got throughshoppin' I didn't have enough change left out of a five-case note tostake myself to a joyride in the subway.

  Just as we're goin' to the post in this supper handicap, the bellrings, and in come Eve, which same is no less than the blushin' brideof Alex. They is now so many people in the flat that for all theneighbors know I have opened up a gamblin' dive or one of them cabaretthings. Everybody is talkin', with the exception of me, which havin'sit down to eat proceeded to do so with the greatest abandon, as theguy says. Them three girls--the wife, the lovely Mrs. Wilkinson andEve, was sure some layout to have across the table, I'll tell the worldfair! They had the front row of the Follies lookin' like washwomendurin' the rush hour, and all I did was sit there and eat and wonderhow in Heaven's name they ever come to fall for a set of guys like me,Alex and the lovely Wilkinson.

  Well, the meal come to an end without no violence, and they was onlyone time when it seemed like boxin' gloves would be needed. Even thatwasn't exactly _my_ fault. From the general chatter of the lovelyWilkinson, I figured him as a big, fatheaded, good-lookin' boneheadwhose greatest trick so far had been marryin' his wife. He got my goata coupla times hand runnin' by dealin' himself, first, the last pieceof bread and, second, the last potato on the table. Either one of themthings would of enraged me by themselves, but pullin' 'em together wasa open dare to me to commit homicide. I laid for him for a half hourand fin'ly I get a openin'.

  "Mister Wilkinson is packed to the ears with ambition," says the wifeto me across the table. "He expects to fall into a lot of money veryshortly."

  "I don't see how they can be no room for him to be packed with nothin'else," I says, "after all the meat and potatoes he put away to-night.And as far as that fallin' into a lot of money is concerned, he must befigurin' on stumblin' at the door of the mint, hey?"

  They is a dead silence and the lovely Wilkinson give a nervous snickerand piled up his plate with liberty links and cabbage to hide hisconfusion. Alex laughs like a hyena and Mrs. Wilkinson looks evenprettier when mad than she did when tryin' to be a charmin' guest. Thewife gimme a glance that would of killed a guy with a weaker heart andtries to laugh it off.

  "You mustn't mind him," she says. "He's always kiddin' that way abouteverything. Really--I'm--I'm so angry I don't know what to do!"

  "I'll tell you what to do," I says. "See if you can get the embargolifted on that food down at your end of the table and ease a littlenourishment up here!"

  "He oughta leave the table!" remarks Alex.

  "You ain't talkin' to me!" I says. "I'm wonderin' if you guys willleave the table or not. You already have eat everything else!"

  "That's right!" says the wife. "Go ahead and advertise the fact that Ihave married a roughneck!"

  "My neck must of got that way from wearin' that sweater you knit me," Isays. "Hey, dearie?"

  Eve gimme a laugh, but I seen the wife was gettin' ready to bring upthe heavy artillery so I laid off.

  While the girls is seein' what soap and water will do to a pail ofdishes, I released some cigars and us strong men had a even strongersmoke. The lovely Wilkinson seems to have somethin' on his mind andsays practically nothin', both when he talked and when he didn't. Alexkids me about my ball team and, finely, the household cares bein'attended to in the kitchen, we all set sail for the movies.

  The wife calls me aside, gimme a kiss and says for me to buy thetickets. Of course after she done that I don't have to tell you whopushed the quarters in under the cashier's window. The picture we seenwas one of them forty-eight reel thrillers and was called "LunaticLily's Lover" or somethin' like that. They was a guy killed in everyreel but the first one. They was three killed in that. The picturemust of been made by the local branch of the suicide club, assisted bya lot of candidates for the insane asylum. I'll tell the world thatthe guy which wrote the scenario had at least delirium tremens. Thegirls thought it was great, but I knew better and put in my timefigurin' out on the back of a en
velope how many games we had to lose tobe in last place by August.

  The lovely Wilkinson gets very talkative once inside the theatre. Hestarts right in on the picture and claims it's a awful thing. Everytime a guy goes over a cliff or dives off of a bridge and all thesalesladies and bankers sittin' around us gasps out loud, he speaks upand says it's all faked with a trick camera and they ain't none of themreally doin' nothin' at all. He claims he's got a friend which used tosell tickets for a movie theatre and he told him all about it. Themore stunts the hero of this picture does, the worse the lovelyWilkinson gets, and it ain't long before he has captured the goat offriend Alex, which is champion moving picture fan of the United Statesand Coney Island. When the lovely Wilkinson claims that nobody in reallife could do the tricks this movie hero was pullin' off, Alex butts in.

  "How do _you_ know them things can't be done?" he says.

  "Anybody but an idiot could see that!" says Wilkinson. "The idea oftrying to make intelligent people believe that this fellow with hishair brushed back like a rabbit's could sell one of those wealthymillionaires gold mines and the like. Why, he'd be thrown out of theoffice and--"

  "No wonder you ain't a success!" butts in Alex.

  The lovely Wilkinson shows a little spirit.

  "How do you know I ain't a success?" he says. "I'm making my goodtwenty-five dollars each and every week."

  "Yeh?" sneers Alex. "I once heard tell of a feller which was makin'thirty, but I ain't sure of it because none of the newspapers said aword about it." He turns around and lowers his voice on account ofsome hisses comin' from fans in the back. "Look here!" he says. "Alljokes to one side, they ain't nothin' that this feller done in thepicture that can't be done by anybody. A man can do anything he wantsto, _anything_, they ain't no limit--if he's got enough sand to fighthis way through whatever stands in his way! I don't care what thething is he wants, a man can get anything if he keeps tryin' and--"

  "You hate yourself, don't you?" butts in the lovely Wilkinson,peevishly. "I suppose you think _you_ could do anything--"

  "I do not," says Alex. "I _know_ it! I ain't talkin' about myselfthough, I'm talkin' about you. You're a young married feller with asweet, beautiful, and, for all I know, sensible little wife. Youpeople are just startin' out, and I want to see you make good. I thinkyou got the stuff in you somewheres, but not to be rough or nothin' ofthe sort, I must say you have been a success at concealin' it so far.Twenty-five dollars a week ain't enough wages for nobody--as long asthey's somebody makin' twenty-six--understand? And if you get wherethey pay you twenty-five dollars a _minute_ instead of a week, youwanna try and make 'em think you're worth thirty! The mistake you anda lot of young fellers make is quittin' at a given point. They ain'tno point to quit! I bet when you was makin' eighteen dollars a weekyou hustled like blazes to make twenty, but when you got up totwenty-five you prob'ly told yourself that you was makin' as much asmost of the boys you knew and more than some, so why wear yourself outand slave for a fatheaded boss, eh? Right in sight of the grandstandyou blew up and quit in the stretch. I bet you think right now thatyou're makin' good because you're holdin' down the job, hey? Thatain't makin' good, that's stealin' the boss's money--petty larceny, anddeprivin' your future kids of a even chance--a felony! Give the bosseverything you got, and he'll pay for it. If he don't, get out anddive in somewheres else! They ain't no place on earth where they ain'ta openin' for a live one at any hour of the day or night!"

  The lovely Wilkinson says nothin'.

  Pretty soon and much to my delight, this here picture comes to a end,and while we're goin' out in the lobby, the lovely Wilkinson calls hiswife aside and whispers somethin' in her ear. It ain't over a secondlater that we're all invited up to the Wilkinson flat for a little biteand the like before retirin'.

  The girls starts a hot and no doubt interestin' argument about how manypurls make a knit and so forth, and the lovely Wilkinson, afterfidgetin' around a bit, calls us into another room. He closes the doorvery careful.

  "I got something very personal and very important I'd like to speak toyou about," he says to Alex.

  "I'll go out on the fire escape," I says.

  "No!" he says. "I want you to stay and hear this too." He turns toAlex again. "I been thinking over what you said in the theatreto-night," he begins, "and I guess you're pretty near right about me.However, I have a big chance now to make good and get out of thetwenty-five dollar class, only, as usual, luck is against me."

  "They is no such thing as luck," says Alex. "Forget about that luckthing, put the letter 'P' before the word and you got it! That's thefirst rule in my booklet, 'Success While You Wait.' I must send youone."

  "Thanks," says the lovely Wilkinson. "You see, I'm a salesman for abig wholesale clothing house downtown and right at the beginning of thewar I went up to Plattsburg to try for a commission in the army. I wasrejected on account of a bad eye. While I was up there, I met ColonelWilliams, who is now practically in charge of the buying of equipmentfor the army. I've been trying for months to land the overcoatcontract for my house and last week I finally got things lined up. Ihave got to have one thousand of our storm-proof army coats inWashington by five o'clock to-morrow afternoon. At that time, ColonelWilliams will see me at the War Department and I can give him prices onvarious lots and so forth."

  "Why do you have to bring that many coats down?" asks Alex. "Wouldn'ta couple be enough for a sample?"

  "No," says Wilkinson. "These coats are to be given to men in acantonment near Washington, where they will get actual wear undervarying conditions. If I'm not in Washington with them at fiveto-morrow, I'll lose my chance because, the following day, men fromfour rival houses have appointments with the Colonel."

  "Well," I butts in, "what's stoppin' you from goin' to Washington?"

  "Nothing is stopping _me_," he says, "but I can't get the coats downthere with me in time! The two shipments that we have sent by freighthave gone astray somewhere and, as government supplies have the rightof way over all other shipments, the express companies will notguarantee a delivery at any set time."

  "But them coats are government supplies, ain't they?" says Alex.

  "Not yet!" says the lovely Wilkinson. "Not until they are accepted.Right now they are nothing but samples of clothing. I've gone intothat part thoroughly."

  Alex gets up and walks around the room a coupla times, throwin' up asmoke screen from his cigar. Then he stops and looks at his watch.

  "It's now almost eleven o'clock," he says. "Where are them coats?"

  The lovely Wilkinson looks puzzled.

  "Why," he says. "Why--they're in our stock room at 245 Broadway."

  "Can we get in there to-night?" asks Alex, reachin' for his hat.

  "I have a key," says Wilkinson, "but I'm afraid I don't quite get theidea. I--"

  "Look here!" says Alex, very brisk. "I'm goin' to deliver you and onethousand of them overcoats outside the War Department in Washington atfive o'clock to-morrow afternoon! What will you get if you land thisorder?"

  The lovely Wilkinson leaps out of his chair.

  "Why--I--," he splutters, "I--get fifteen per cent if--but you can'tget the coats there, it's impossible! Why--"

  "Never let me hear you use that word impossible' again!" snorts Alex."Speak United States! I spent a half hour to-night tellin' you that aman can do _anything_ if he wants to. Now look here, they ain't notime to lose. I'll land you and your coats in Washington to-morrow ontime. That will cost your firm around a thousand dollars--the samebein' the price of the means of locomotion. I will take your word ofhonor that you will pay me twenty per cent of any profits you make onany order you take as a result of my efforts. Is it a bargain? Speakquick!"

  "If you are thinking of getting a special train," says Wilkinson, "itcan't be--"

  "Yes or no!" hollers Alex. "I'll take care of the rest!"

  "Yes!" yells the lovely Wilkinson, jumpin' around like some of Alex'spep has entered his syst
em. "If you put this over for me, I'll giveyou _half_ of anything I get!"

  "You're gonna put it over yourself!" says Alex. "Now listen to me.You grab a taxi and beat it down to your stock room. Get themovercoats ready and in about a hour I'll call there for you. We'regoin' to Washington to-night and don't be over five minutes sayin'good-by to your wife!"

  "But--" says Wilkinson, lookin' like Alex had him hypnotized.

  "Git!" bawls Alex, and slams a hat on the lovely Wilkinson's head.

  Well, within four minutes the lovely Wilkinson has beat it, leavin'behind a astounded and weepin' wife and Alex is on the phone callin' upthe Gaflooey Auto Company's service station and in ten minutes more hehas arranged to have a truck and a mechanic chug-chuggin' outside thehouse. Then he turns to me.

  "Here is another chance for you to lose some dough," he says. "I'mgonna take Wilkinson and his trick overcoats down to Washington by wayof a auto truck. If we leave here at midnight, we got about seventeenhours to make 225 miles, that's an average of around thirteen miles ahour. The Gaflooey one-ton truck can make twenty, if chased. Ofcourse we may hit some bum roads or lose the carburetor and so forth,which might delay us some. What'll you bet I don't put this over?"

  I walked over to the window and looked out at New York. They is one ofthem rains fallin' that generally plays a week stand before passin' onto the next village. I figured that trip in the middle of the night,the rain and the tough goin'.

  "Gimme a proposition," I says.

  "All right," says Alex. "Me and Eve needs some furniture for thelibrary. I'll bet you fifteen hundred against a thousand that I getWilkinson in Washington in time to put over his deal."

  "I got you," I says. "If he gets there too late to put over anythingwith the War Department, I win--right?"

  "Correct!" says Alex. "And now have Cousin Alice put up somesandwiches and the like for us. I got a lot to do!"

  Well, at five minutes to twelve that night they was a Gaflooey truckgasolined its merry way aboard a Forty-second Street ferry. On boardit was Alex, the lovely Wilkinson, one thousand storm-proof armyovercoats and yours in the faith.

  I ain't liable to forget that trip for a long while to come, because Igot soaked to the skin--with water--and just missed gettin' pneumoniaby one cough. The rain kept gettin' worse and worse and it hadn't athing on the roads. We went through Trenton, N. J., along around 4a.m. in a storm that would of made the Flood look like fallin' dew.The mud is up over the hubs of the truck, but it keeps plowin' along ata steady gait with Alex and the mechanic takin' turns at the wheel. Icrawled in under some of them one thousand overcoats at Philly and wentto sleep, the last I heard bein' the lovely and half-drowned Wilkinsoncallin' out the time every fifteen minutes and moanin', "We'll nevermake it!"

  Mornin' brung no let up in the rain, but the old Gaflooey truck keepsthunderin' on. Sometimes we done five miles a hour, sometimes twentyand when this big baby was goin' twenty, believe me, it was roughsleddin'! We run into a bridge at Wilmington, Del., and at Baltimorewe bumped a Flivver off of the road, but outside of that they wasnothin' but rain and mud and the lovely Wilkinson complainin' about thedampness, like he was the only one that was gettin' a endless coldshower.

  It was twenty minutes of five when we rolled into the city limits ofWashington and I'll tell the world we was a rough lookin' bunch. Alexis grinnin' from ear to ear and slappin' Wilkinson on the back and thisguy has perked up a bit, though wishin' out loud that he was home withcoffee, bacon and eggs and Mrs. Wilkinson. I am cursin' the day thatever brung Alex into our family circle and wonderin' if death by doublepneumonia is painful. The mechanic is fallin' asleep at the wheel,wakin' himself up from time to time with shots out of a flask and oflemon ice-cream sodas or something he had on his hip.

  We stopped in front of the War Department and Alex says we betterstraighten up ourselves and the overcoats before callin' on ColonelWilliams. At that, the mechanic falls off the seat and dives into arestaurant and we go back to look at the coats.

  "If any of us had any brains," says Alex, jerkin' a coat off the pile,"we would all of worn one of these here things and kept nice anddry--_Sufferin mackerel_!" he winds up all of a sudden.

  Me and the lovely Wilkinson swings around and there's Alex holdin' upthe coat.

  Oh, boy!!!!!

  This here storm-proof army coat, which Wilkinson hoped to unload on theU. S. army, just simply fell apart in his hands! He grabbed anotherand another--and they're all alike. The rain has took all the colorouta them, they have shrunk till they is hardly enough cloth toaccommodate the buttons and the linin's, which was supposed to beleather, has fell right to shreds from the water. All in all, they wasnothin' but a mess of soggy, muddy rags which no self-respectin' junkdealer would of took for a gift!

  The lovely Wilkinson's face is a picture. He's as pale as the mornin'cream and I thought for a minute he was gonna bust out cryin'. Icouldn't help feelin' sorry for the kid, but when I thought of thatwild night ride through the rain and mud to bring this bunch of garbageto Washington, I wanted to laugh out loud! And then I remember Alexbettin' me Wilkinson would take the order, and I haw-hawed myselfsilly, right there in the street.

  "Shut up!" barks Alex, swingin' around on me. "This here is far from alaughin' matter. It's pretty serious business!" He turns to Wilkinsonand shakes him by the shoulder. "Young man," he snaps, "is that thekind of stuff you were goin' to put on our boys which fought for you inFrance?"

  Wilkinson is lookin' at the coats like they fascinated him.

  "Why--why this is terrible!" he stammers, fin'ly. "They toldme--why--Good Heavens, you don't think _I_ knew these things were madeup like this, do you?"

  Alex studies him for a minute.

  "No," he says, "I don't! You don't look like you'd do that, anyways.What's the name of your firm?"

  "Gerhardt and Schmidt," says Wilkinson. "I know it sounds German, butboth members of the firm have been naturalized and--"

  "Never mind that," says Alex. "Even if it wasn't no worse than ascheme to clean up on a government contract, I think the Secret Servicewill be interested in seein' them coats!"

  The lovely Wilkinson sits right down on the curb and buries his face inhis hands.

  "Good night!" he moans. "I'm done for now. I thought this was goingto be a big thing for me and--"

  Alex slaps him on the back.

  "No whinin'," he says. "We're still in Washington--you can't tell whatmight happen yet."

  "You can gimme that fifteen hundred berries right now if you want,Alex," I says, "because I'm gonna grab the next train for Manhattan.This is _one_ that beat you and--"

  "Ssh!" says the lovely Wilkinson, jumpin' up suddenly. "Here comesColonel Williams himself!"

  We looked around and sure enough there's two army officers walkin' overto the War Department. When they got opposite us, Wilkinson braceshimself and steps forward.

  "Pardon me, Colonel," he says. "I'm Mister Wilkinson of Gerhardt andSchmidt. I had an appointment with you to-day at five to show youthose army coats."

  The Colonel looks at him.

  "Oh, yes," he says, very pleasant. "Just step inside, MisterWilkinson. I'll see you in my office. You are very prompt. You musthave been caught in the downpour--you're soaking wet."

  "Yes, sir," says Wilkinson. "I--ah--Colonel, I don't think there's anyuse of me stepping into your office."

  "Eh--why not?" says the Colonel.

  Wilkinson turns several of the popular colors.

  "I--ah--the fact is," he says, "our coat is not what the United Statesgovernment wants, Colonel. I didn't know it at the time I solicitedthe contract--I--I've just found it out. We brought the requirednumber of coats down here by auto truck, not being able to get themhere on time by freight or express. The trip was made in yesterday'sstorm and"--he points to the mess on the truck--"there's the coats!"

  The Colonel examines a couple of them soggy rags and he gets verysevere. I heard him say somethin' that sounded l
ike "Damn!" a coupleof times, and then he turns to Wilkinson.

  "This is a matter for the Department of Justice," he says. "You willleave the truck and its load right here, Mister Wilkinson, and I'llpersonally see that it's taken care of. Your action in coming directto me with this evidence is commendable. You may telegraph your firmthat the United States government is holding this shipment forinvestigation. I'm sorry for your sake that this happened, as I hadall but made up my mind to give you the contract. If you desire to seeme further, I'll be in my office until six."

  With that he stamps away. The other officer who was with him has beenwalkin' around the Gaflooey truck all the time and examin' it like it'sthe first auto he ever seen in his life.

  "Pardon me," he says to Wilkinson, "did I understand you to say thatyou made the trip from New York yesterday in the storm on this truck?"

  "Yes, sir," says Wilkinson.

  The officer pulls out a notebook.

  "What time did you leave New York?" he asks, very businesslike.

  Wilkinson tells him. Then the officer asks if we had any trouble, howmuch gas and oil we used, what was our average speed and a millionother things. Alex's eyes begin to dance around, and he winks at melike there's somethin' in the air. Fin'ly the officer walks away,after thankin' the lovely Wilkinson for the information.

  "Now!" hollers Alex, grabbin' Wilkinson's arm. "You win!"

  "Win?" moans Wilkinson. "I'll be lucky if I don't go to jail!"

  "You're crazy!" bellers Alex, gettin' more and more excited. "You hadnothin' to do with this thing--you didn't know the coats was no good.Forget about that, the thing is you got a chance right now to put overa bigger thing than them overcoats. You come here to make a sale,didn't you? All right, go to it! That officer is connected with thepurchasin' department of the government, and he wasted a lot of timetalkin' to you about that truck. Do you realize what a wonderful thingthat was to get down here O.K. in that terrible storm yesterday?No--_you_ don't, but _he_ did! Right now he's got that there truck onhis mind. Go after him before he gets inside the buildin' and makeyour sale!"

  "But," says Wilkinson, kinda dazed, "what have I got to sell? Theovercoats are--"

  "Damn the overcoats!" hollers Alex. "Sell him the truck that brought'em down--they ain't nothin' wrong with that! If it's good enough fora trip like that, it's good enough for the army, ain't it? Hurry upand make an appointment with him for to-day, and I'll get you thefigures on the Gaflooey truck for a hundred or a million--I know 'em byheart!"

  "By Heavens, I'll chance it!" says Wilkinson, and runs after theofficer.

  Comin' up on the train that night I sit in the smoker and write Alex mycheck for a thousand berries. They was no two ways about it as heshowed me, because he had bet he would make Wilkinson put over a salein Washington. He didn't say _what_ he had to sell. The lovelyWilkinson, which has sent about five dollars' worth of night letters tohis wife, is sittin' on the other side, delirious with joy and with aorder in his pocket for one thousand Gaflooey trucks as per the one wecome down in. Alex had wired the Gaflooey people and had Wilkinsonappointed a salesman for the Washington territory on hisrecommendation. Them guys would do anything for Alex, because he put'em on the map. With telegraphed credentials from New York, the restwas a cinch for even the lovely Wilkinson, because the truck solditself!

  "They is only one thing that beats me," I says to Alex before we turnin on the sleeper. "Why didn't _you_ sell the truck and make all thedough yourself?"

  "Its a good thing you don't need brains in your game," says Alex, "oryou and Alice would starve! I wanted Wilkinson to make the sale all byhimself, because it will give him confidence, and then, again, he'lladvertise me. I get half of his commission, I grab a bonus from theGaflooey people for helpin' the sale along and then there's thatthousand bucks of yours, which I would of lost if I sold the trucksmyself. Also, I have put Mister Wilkinson over, and that's what Istarted out to do!"

  "You win!" I says. "I don't see how you get away with it. It's pastme!"

  "Huh!" says Alex. "They ain't no trick to it at all--why say, even_you_ could of done it!"