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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:24 -0700 |
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diff --git a/12257-h/12257-h.htm b/12257-h/12257-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b471e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/12257-h/12257-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1216 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Go-Getter, by Peter B. +Kyne.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + + body + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + p + {text-align: justify;} + + blockquote + {text-align: justify;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 + {text-align: center;} + + hr + {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + + html>body hr + {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + + hr.full + {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full + {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + + pre + {font-size: 0.7em; color: #000; background-color: #FFF;} + + .poetry + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 0%; + text-align: left;} + + .footnote + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em;} + + .index + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + text-align: center;} + + .figure + {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img + {border: none;} + + .date + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + text-align: right;} + + .card + {border: solid 2px; background-color: white; } + + span.rightnote + {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 1%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.leftnote + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 92%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.linenum + {float:right; + text-align: right; font-size: 0.7em;} +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12257 ***</div> + +<h1>The Go-Getter</h1> +<h2>A Story That Tells You How to be One</h2> +<h3>By Peter B. Kyne</h3> +<hr /> +<h2>DEDICATION</h2> +<blockquote> +<p>THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY DEAD CHIEF, +BRIGADIER-GENERAL LEROY S. LYON, SOMETIME COMMANDER OF THE 65TH +FIELD ARTILLERY BRIGADE, 40TH DIVISION, UNITED STATES ARMY.</p> +<p>HE PRACTICED AND PREACHED A RELIGION OF LOYALTY TO THE COUNTRY +AND THE APPOINTED TASK, WHATEVER IT MIGHT BE.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<h2>I</h2> +<p>Mr. Alden P. Ricks, known in Pacific Coast wholesale lumber and +shipping circles as Cappy Ricks, had more troubles than a hen with +ducklings. He remarked as much to Mr. Skinner, president and +general manager of the Ricks Logging & Lumbering Company, the +corporate entity which represented Cappy's vast lumber interests; +and he fairly barked the information at Captain Matt Peasley, his +son-in-law and also president and manager of the Blue Star +Navigation Company, another corporate entity which represented the +Ricks interest in the American mercantile marine.</p> +<p>Mr. Skinner received this information in silence. He was not +related to Cappy Ricks. But Matt Peasley sat down, crossed his legs +and matched glares with his mercurial father-in-law.</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> have troubles!" he jeered, with emphasis on the +pronoun. "Have you got a misery in your back, or is Herbert Hoover +the wrong man for Secretary of Commerce?"</p> +<p>"Stow your sarcasm, young feller," Cappy shrilled. "You know +dad-blamed well it isn't a question of health or politics. It's the +fact that in my old age I find myself totally surrounded by the +choicest aggregation of mental duds since Ajax defied the +lightning."</p> +<p>"Meaning whom?"</p> +<p>"You and Skinner."</p> +<p>"Why, what have we done?"</p> +<p>"You argued me into taking on the management of twenty-five of +those infernal Shipping Board freighters, and no sooner do we have +them allocated to us than a near panic hits the country, freight +rates go to glory, marine engineers go on strike and every infernal +young whelp we send out to take charge of one of our offices in the +Orient promptly gets the swelled head and thinks he's divinely +ordained to drink up all the synthetic Scotch whiskey manufactured +in Japan for the benefit of thirsty Americans. In my old age you +two have forced us into the position of having to fire folks by +cable. Why? Because we're breaking into a game that can't be played +on the home grounds. A lot of our business is so far away we can't +control it."</p> +<p>Matt Peasley leveled an accusing finger at Cappy Ricks. "We +never argued you into taking over the management of those Shipping +Board boats. We argued me into it. I'm the goat. You have nothing +to do with it. You retired ten years ago. All the troubles in the +marine end of this shop belong on my capable shoulders, old +settler."</p> +<p>"Theoretically--yes. Actually--no. I hope you do not expect me +to abandon mental as well as physical effort. Great Wampus Cats! Am +I to be denied a sentimental interest in matters where I have a +controlling financial interest? I admit you two boys are running my +affairs and ordinarily you run them rather well, but--but--ahem! +Harumph-h-h! What's the matter with you, Matt? And you, also, +Skinner? If Matt makes a mistake, it's your job to remind him of it +before the results manifest themselves, is it not? And vice versa. +Have you two boobs lost your ability to judge men or did you ever +have such ability?"</p> +<p>"You're referring to Henderson, of the Shanghai office, I dare +say," Mr. Skinner cut in.</p> +<p>"I am, Skinner. And I'm here to remind you that if we'd stuck to +our own game, which is coast-wise shipping, and had left the +trans-Pacific field with its general cargoes to others, we wouldn't +have any Shanghai office at this moment and we would not be +pestered by the Hendersons of this world."</p> +<p>"He's the best lumber salesman we've ever had," Mr. Skinner +defended. "I had every hope that he would send us orders for many a +cargo for Asiatic delivery."</p> +<p>"And he had gone through every job in this office, from office +boy to sales manager in the lumber department and from freight +clerk to passenger agent in the navigation company," Matt Peasley +supplemented.</p> +<p>"I admit all of that. But did you consult me when you decided to +send him out to China on his own?"</p> +<p>"Of course not. I'm boss of the Blue Star Navigation Company, am +I not? The man was in charge of the Shanghai office before you ever +opened your mouth to discharge your cargo of free advice."</p> +<p>"I told you then that Henderson wouldn't make good, didn't +I?"</p> +<p>"You did."</p> +<p>"And now I have an opportunity to tell you the little tale you +didn't give me an opportunity to tell you before you sent him out. +Henderson <i>was</i> a good man--a crackerjack man--when he had a +better man over him. But--I've been twenty years reducing a +tendency on the part of that fellow's head to bust his hat-band. +And now he's gone south with a hundred and thirty thousand taels of +our Shanghai bank account."</p> +<p>"Permit me to remind you, Mr. Ricks," Mr. Skinner cut in coldly, +"that he was bonded to the extent of a quarter of a million +dollars."</p> +<p>"Not a peep out of you, Skinner. Not a peep. Permit me to remind +<i>you</i> that I'm the little genius who placed that insurance +unknown to you and Matt. And I recall now that I was reminded by +you, Matthew, my son, that I had retired ten years ago and please, +would I quit interfering in the internal administration of your +office."</p> +<p>"Well, I must admit your far-sightedness in that instance will +keep the Shanghai office out of the red ink this year," Matt +Peasley replied. "However, we face this situation, Cappy. Henderson +has drunk and gambled and signed chits in excess of his salary. He +hasn't attended to business and he's capped his inefficiency by +absconding with our bank account. We couldn't foresee that. When we +send a man out to the Orient to be our manager there, we have to +trust him all the way or not at all. So there is no use weeping +over spilled milk, Cappy. Our job is to select a successor to +Henderson and send him out to Shanghai on the next boat."</p> +<p>"Oh, very well, Matt," Cappy replied magnanimously, "I'll not +rub it into you. I suppose I'm far from generous, bawling you out +like this. Perhaps, when you're my age and have a lot of mental and +moral cripples nip you and draw blood as often as they've drawn it +on me you'll be a better judge than I of men worthy of the weight +of responsibility. Skinner, have you got a candidate for this +job?"</p> +<p>"I regret to say, sir, I have not. All of the men in my +department are quite young--too young for the responsibility."</p> +<p>"What do you mean--young?" Cappy blazed.</p> +<p>"Well, the only man I would consider for the job is Andrews and +he is too young--about thirty, I should say."</p> +<p>"About thirty, eh? Strikes me you were about twenty-eight when I +threw ten thousand a year at you in actual cash, and a couple of +million dollars' worth of responsibility."</p> +<p>"Yes sir, but then Andrews has never been tested----"</p> +<p>"Skinner," Cappy interrupted in his most awful voice, "it's a +constant source of amazement to me why I refrain from firing you. +You say Andrews has never been tested. Why hasn't he been tested? +Why are we maintaining untested material in this shop, anyhow? Eh? +Answer me that. Tut, tut, tut! Not a peep out of you, sir. If you +had done your Christian duty, you would have taken a year's +vacation when lumber was selling itself in 1919 and 1920, and you +would have left Andrews sitting in at your desk to see the sort of +stuff he's made of."</p> +<p>"It's a mighty lucky thing I didn't go away for a year," Skinner +protested respectfully, "because the market broke--like that--and +if you don't think we have to hustle to sell sufficient lumber to +keep our own ships busy freighting it--"</p> +<p>"Skinner, how dare you contradict me? How old was Matt Peasley +when I turned over the Blue Star Navigation Company to him, lock, +stock and barrel? Why, he wasn't twenty-six years old. Skinner, +you're a dodo! The killjoys like you who have straddled the neck of +industry and throttled it with absurd theories that a man's back +must be bent like an ox-bow and his locks snowy white before he can +be entrusted with responsibility and a living wage, have caused all +of our wars and strikes. This is a young man's world, Skinner, and +don't you ever forget it. The go-getters of this world are under +thirty years of age. Matt," he concluded, turning to his +son-in-law, "what do you think of Andrews for that Shanghai +job?"</p> +<p>"I think he'll do."</p> +<p>"Why do you think he'll do?"</p> +<p>"Because he ought to do. He's been with us long enough to have +acquired sufficient experience to enable him--"</p> +<p>"Has he acquired the courage to tackle the job, Matt?" Cappy +interrupted. "That's more important than this doggoned experience +you and Skinner prate so much about."</p> +<p>"I know nothing of his courage. I assume that he has force and +initiative. I know he has a pleasing personality."</p> +<p>"Well, before we send him out we ought to know whether or no he +has force and initiative."</p> +<p>"Then," quoth Matt Peasley, rising, "I wash my hands of the job +of selecting Henderson's successor. You've butted in, so I suggest +you name the lucky man."</p> +<p>"Yes, indeed," Skinner agreed. "I'm sure it's quite beyond my +poor abilities to uncover Andrews' force and initiative on such +notice. He does possess sufficient force and initiative for his +present job, but--"</p> +<p>"But will he possess force and initiative when he has to make a +quick decision six thousand miles from expert advice, and stand or +fall by that decision? That's what we want to know, Skinner."</p> +<p>"I suggest, sir," Mr. Skinner replied with chill politeness, +"that you conduct the examination."</p> +<p>"I accept the nomination, Skinner. By the Holy Pink-toed +Prophet! The next man we send out to that Shanghai office is going +to be a go-getter. We've had three managers go rotten on us and +that's three too many."</p> +<p>And without further ado, Cappy swung his aged legs up on to his +desk and slid down in his swivel chair until he rested on his +spine. His head sank on his breast and he closed his eyes.</p> +<p>"He's framing the examination for Andrews," Matt Peasley +whispered, as he and Skinner made their exits.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>II</h2> +<p>The President emeritus of the Ricks' interests was not destined +to uninterrupted cogitation, however. Within ten minutes his +private exchange operator called him to the telephone.</p> +<p>"What is it?" Cappy yelled into the transmitter.</p> +<p>"There is a young man in the general office. His name is Mr. +William E. Peck and he desires to see you personally."</p> +<p>Cappy sighed. "Very well," he replied. "Have him shown in."</p> +<p>Almost immediately the office boy ushered Mr. Peck into Cappy's +presence. The moment he was fairly inside the door the visitor +halted, came easily and naturally to "attention" and bowed +respectfully, while the cool glance of his keen blue eyes held +steadily the autocrat of the Blue Star Navigation Company.</p> +<p>"Mr. Ricks, Peck is my name, sir--William E. Peck. Thank you, +sir, for acceding to my request for an interview."</p> +<p>"Ahem! Hum-m-m!" Cappy looked belligerent. "Sit down, Mr. +Peck."</p> +<p>Mr. Peck sat down, but as he crossed to the chair beside Cappy's +desk, the old gentleman noticed that his visitor walked with a +slight limp, and that his left forearm had been amputated half way +to the elbow. To the observant Cappy, the American Legion button in +Mr. Peck's lapel told the story.</p> +<p>"Well, Mr. Peck," he queried gently, "what can I do for +you?"</p> +<p>"I've called for my job," the veteran replied briefly.</p> +<p>"By the Holy Pink-toed Prophet!" Cappy ejaculated, "you say that +like a man who doesn't expect to be refused."</p> +<p>"Quite right, sir. I do not anticipate a refusal."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>Mr. William E. Peck's engaging but somewhat plain features +rippled into the most compelling smile Cappy Ricks had ever seen. +"I am a salesman, Mr. Ricks," he replied. "I know that statement to +be true because I have demonstrated, over a period of five years, +that I can sell my share of anything that has a hockable value. I +have always found, however, that before proceeding to sell goods I +had to sell the manufacturer of those goods something, +to-wit--myself! I am about to sell myself to you."</p> +<p>"Son," said Cappy smilingly, "you win. You've sold me already. +When did they sell you a membership in the military forces of the +United States of America?"</p> +<p>"On the morning of April 7th, 1917, sir."</p> +<p>"That clinches our sale. I soldiered with the Knights of +Columbus at Camp Kearny myself, but when they refused to let me go +abroad with my division my heart was broken, so I went over the +hill."</p> +<p>That little touch of the language of the line appeared to warm +Mr. Peck's heart considerably, establishing at once a free masonry +between them.</p> +<p>"I was with the Portland Lumber Company, selling lumber in the +Middle West before the war," he explained. "Uncle Sam gave me my +sheepskin at Letter-man General Hospital last week, with half +disability on my ten thousand dollars' worth of government +insurance. Whittling my wing was a mere trifle, but my broken leg +was a long time mending, and now it's shorter than it really ought +to be. And I developed pneumonia with influenza and they found some +T.B. indications after that. I've been at the government +tuberculosis hospital at Fort Bayard, New Mexico, for a year. +However, what's left of me is certified to be sound. I've got five +inches chest expansion and I feel fine."</p> +<p>"Not at all blue or discouraged?" Cappy hazarded.</p> +<p>"Oh, I got off easy, Mr. Ricks. I have my head left--and my +right arm. I can think and I can write, and even if one of my +wheels is flat, I can hike longer and faster after an order than +most. Got a job for me, Mr. Ricks?"</p> +<p>"No, I haven't, Mr. Peck. I'm out of it, you know. Retired ten +years ago. This office is merely a headquarters for social +frivolity--a place to get my mail and mill over the gossip of the +street. Our Mr. Skinner is the chap you should see."</p> +<p>"I have seen Mr. Skinner, sir," the erstwhile warrior replied, +"but he wasn't very sympathetic. I think he jumped to the +conclusion that I was attempting to trade him my empty sleeve. He +informed me that there wasn't sufficient business to keep his +present staff of salesmen busy, so then I told him I'd take +anything, from stenographer up. I'm the champion one-handed typist +of the United States Army. I can tally lumber and bill it. I can +keep books and answer the telephone."</p> +<p>"No encouragement, eh?"</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Well, now, son," Cappy informed his cheerful visitor +confidentially, "you take my tip and see my son-in-law, Captain +Peasley. He's high, low and jack-in-the-game in the shipping end of +our business."</p> +<p>"I have also interviewed Captain Peasley. He was very kind. He +said he felt that he owed me a job, but business is so bad he +couldn't make a place for me. He told me he is now carrying a dozen +ex-service men merely because he hasn't the heart to let them go. I +believe him."</p> +<p>"Well, my dear boy--my dear young friend! Why do you come to +me?"</p> +<p>"Because," Mr. Peck replied smilingly, "I want you to go over +their heads and give me a job. I don't care a hoot what it is, +provided I can do it. If I can do it, I'll do it better than it was +ever done before, and if I can't do that I'll quit to save you the +embarrassment of firing me. I'm not an object of charity, but I'm +scarcely the man I used to be and I'm four years behind the +procession and have to catch up. I have the best of +references--"</p> +<p>"I see you have," Cappy cut in blandly, and pressed the +push-button on his desk. Mr. Skinner entered. He glanced +disapprovingly at William E. Peck and then turned inquiring eyes +toward Cappy Ricks.</p> +<p>"Skinner, dear boy," Cappy purred amiably, "I've been thinking +over the proposition to send Andrews out to the Shanghai office, +and I've come to this conclusion. We'll have to take a chance. At +the present time that office is in charge of a stenographer, and +we've got to get a manager on the job without further loss of time. +So I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll send Andrews out on the next +boat, but inform him that his position is temporary. Then if he +doesn't make good out there we can take him back into this office, +where he is a most valuable man. Meanwhile--ahem! hum-m-m! +Harumph!--meanwhile, you'd oblige me greatly, Skinner, my dear boy, +if you would consent to take this young man into your office and +give him a good work-out to see the stuff he's made of. As a favor +to me, Skinner, my dear boy, as a favor to me."</p> +<p>Mr. Skinner, in the language of the sporting world, was down for +the count--and knew it. Young Mr. Peck knew it too, and smiled +graciously upon the general manager, for young Mr. Peck had been in +the army, where one of the first great lessons to be assimilated is +this: that the commanding general's request is always tantamount to +an order.</p> +<p>"Very well, sir," Mr. Skinner replied coldly. "Have you arranged +the compensation to be given Mr. Peck?"</p> +<p>Cappy threw up a deprecating hand. "That detail is entirely up +to you, Skinner. Far be it from me to interfere in the internal +administration of your department. Naturally you will pay Mr. Peck +what he is worth and not a cent more." He turned to the triumphant +Peck. "Now, you listen to me, young feller. If you think you're +slipping gracefully into a good thing, disabuse your mind of that +impression right now. You'll step right up to the plate, my son, +and you'll hit the ball fairly on the nose, and you'll do it early +and often. The first time you tip a foul, you'll be warned. The +second time you do it you'll get a month's lay-off to think it +over, and the third time you'll be out--for keeps. Do I make myself +clear?"</p> +<p>"You do, sir," Mr. Peck declared happily. "All I ask is fighting +room and I'll hack my way into Mr. Skinner's heart. Thank you, Mr. +Skinner, for consenting to take me on. I appreciate your action +very, very much and shall endeavor to be worthy of your +confidence."</p> +<p>"Young scoundrel! In-fer-nal young scoundrel!" Cappy murmured to +himself. "He has a sense of humor, thank God! Ah, poor old +narrow-gauge Skinner! If that fellow ever gets a new or +unconventional thought in his stodgy head, it'll kill him +overnight. He's hopping mad right now, because he can't say a word +in his own defense, but if he doesn't make hell look like a summer +holiday for Mr. Bill Peck, I'm due to be mercifully chloroformed. +Good Lord, how empty life would be if I couldn't butt in and raise +a little riot every once in so often."</p> +<p>Young Mr. Peck had risen and was standing at attention. "When do +I report for duty, sir?" he queried of Mr. Skinner.</p> +<p>"Whenever you're ready," Skinner retorted with a wintry smile. +Mr. Peck glanced at a cheap wrist watch. "It's twelve o'clock now," +he soliloquized aloud. "I'll pop out, wrap myself around some +rations and report on the job at one P.M. I might just as well +knock out half a day's pay." He glanced at Cappy Ricks and +quoted:</p> +<blockquote>"Count that day lost whose low descending sun<br /> +Finds prices shot to glory and business done for fun."</blockquote> +<p>Unable to maintain his composure in the face of such levity +during office hours, Mr. Skinner withdrew, still wrapped in his +sub-Antarctic dignity. As the door closed behind him, Mr. Peck's +eyebrows went up in a manner indicative of apprehension.</p> +<p>"I'm off to a bad start, Mr. Ricks," he opined.</p> +<p>"You only asked for a start," Cappy piped back at him. "I didn't +guarantee you a <i>good</i> start, and I wouldn't because I can't. +I can only drive Skinner and Matt Peasley so far--and no farther. +There's always a point at which I quit--er--ah--William."</p> +<p>"More familiarly known as Bill Peck, sir."</p> +<p>"Very well, Bill." Cappy slid out to the edge of his chair and +peered at Bill Peck balefully over the top of his spectacles. "I'll +have my eye on you, young feller," he shrilled. "I freely +acknowledge our indebtedness to you, but the day you get the notion +in your head that this office is an old soldiers' home--" He paused +thoughtfully. "I wonder what Skinner <i>will</i> pay you?" he +mused. "Oh, well," he continued, whatever it is, take it and say +nothing and when the moment is propitious--and provided you've +earned it--I'll intercede with the danged old relic and get you a +raise."</p> +<p>"Thank you very much, sir. You are most kind. Good-day, +sir."</p> +<p>And Bill Peck picked up his hat and limped out of The Presence. +Scarcely had the door closed behind him than Mr. Skinner re-entered +Cappy Ricks' lair. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cappy silenced +him with an imperious finger.</p> +<p>"Not a peep out of you, Skinner, my dear boy," he chirped +amiably. "I know exactly what you're going to say and I admit your +right to say it, but--as--ahem! Harumph-h-h!--now, Skinner, listen +to reason. How the devil could you have the heart to reject that +crippled ex-soldier? There he stood, on one sound leg, with his +sleeve tucked into his coat pocket and on his homely face the grin +of an unwhipped, unbeatable man. But you--blast your cold, +unfeeling soul, Skinner!--looked him in the eye and turned him down +like a drunkard turns down near-beer. Skinner, how <i>could</i> you +do it?"</p> +<p>Undaunted by Cappy's admonitory finger, Mr. Skinner struck a +distinctly defiant attitude.</p> +<p>"There is no sentiment in business," he replied angrily. "A week +ago last Thursday the local posts of the American Legion commenced +their organized drive for jobs for their crippled and unemployed +comrades, and within three days you've sawed off two hundred and +nine such jobs on the various corporations that you control. The +gang you shipped up to the mill in Washington has already applied +for a charter for a new post to be known as Cappy Ricks Post No. +534. And you had experienced men discharged to make room for these +ex-soldiers."</p> +<p>"You bet I did," Cappy yelled triumphantly. "It's always Old +Home Week in every logging camp and saw-mill in the Northwest for +I.W.W.'s and revolutionary communists. I'm sick of their +unauthorized strikes and sabotage, and by the Holy Pink-Toed +Prophet, Cappy Ricks Post. No. 534, American Legion, is the only +sort of back-fire I can think of to put the Wobblies on the +run."</p> +<p>"Every office and ship and retail yard could be run by a +first-sergeant," Skinner complained. "I'm thinking of having +reveille and retreat and bugle calls and Saturday morning +inspections. I tell you, sir, the Ricks interests have absorbed all +the old soldiers possible and at the present moment those interests +are overflowing with glory. What we want are workers, not talkers. +These ex-soldiers spend too much time fighting their battles over +again."</p> +<p>"Well, Comrade Peck is the last one I'll ask you to absorb, +Skinner," Cappy promised contritely. "Ever read Kipling's Barrack +Room Ballads, Skinner?"</p> +<p>"I have no time to read," Mr. Skinner protested.</p> +<p>"Go up town this minute and buy a copy and read one ballad +entitled 'Tommy,'" Cappy barked. "For the good of your immortal +soul," he added.</p> +<p>"Well, Comrade Peck doesn't make a hit with me, Mr. Ricks. He +applied to me for a job and I gave him his answer. Then he went to +Captain Matt and was refused, so, just to demonstrate his bad +taste, he went over our heads and induced you to pitchfork him into +a job. He'll curse the day he was inspired to do that."</p> +<p>"Skinner! Skinner! Look me in the eye! Do you know why I asked +you to take on Bill Peck?"</p> +<p>"I do. Because you're too tender-hearted for your own good."</p> +<p>"You unimaginative dunderhead! You jibbering jackdaw! How could +I reject a boy who simply would not be rejected? Why, I'll bet a +ripe peach that Bill Peck was one of the doggondest finest soldiers +you ever saw. He carries his objective. He sized you up just like +that, Skinner. He declined to permit you to block him. Skinner, +that Peck person has been opposed by experts. Yes, sir--experts! +What kind of a job are you going to give him, Skinner, my dear +boy?"</p> +<p>"Andrews' job, of course."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, I forgot. Skinner, dear boy, haven't we got about half +a million feet of skunk spruce to saw off on somebody?" Mr. Skinner +nodded and Cappy continued with all the naïve eagerness of one +who has just made a marvelous discovery, which he is confident will +revolutionize science. "Give him that stinking stuff to peddle, +Skinner, and if you can dig up a couple of dozen carloads of red +fir or bull pine in transit, or some short or odd-length stock, or +some larch ceiling or flooring, or some hemlock random stock--in +fact, anything the trade doesn't want as a gift--you get me, don't +you, Skinner?"</p> +<p>Mr. Skinner smiled his swordfish smile. "And if he fails to make +good--<i>au revoir</i>, eh?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I suppose so, although I hate to think about it. On the +other hand, if he makes good he's to have Andrews' salary. We must +be fair, Skinner. Whatever our faults we must always be fair." He +rose and patted the general manager's lean shoulder. "There, there, +Skinner, my boy. Forgive me if I've been a +trifle--ah--ahem!--precipitate and--er--harumph-h-h! Skinner, if +you put a prohibitive price on that skunk fir, by the Holy +Pink-toed Prophet, I'll fire you! Be fair, boy, be fair. No dirty +work, Skinner. Remember, Comrade Peck has half of his left forearm +buried in France."</p> +<hr /> +<h2>III</h2> +<p>At twelve-thirty, as Cappy was hurrying up California Street to +luncheon at the Commercial Club, he met Bill Peck limping down the +sidewalk. The ex-soldier stopped him and handed him a card.</p> +<p>"What do you think of that, sir?" he queried. "Isn't it a neat +business card?"</p> +<p>Cappy read:</p> +<blockquote class="card"> + RICKS LUMBER & +LOGGING COMPANY<br /> + Lumber +and its products<br /> + 248 +California St.<br /> + San +Francisco.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Represented by</i><br /> +William E. Peck<br /> + <i>If you can drive nails in it--we have +it!</i></blockquote> +<p>Cappy Ricks ran a speculative thumb over Comrade Peck's business +card. It was engraved. And copper plates or steel dies are not made +in half an hour!</p> +<p>"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" This was Cappy's most terrible +oath and he never employed it unless rocked to his very +foundations. "Bill, as one bandit to another--come clean. When did +you first make up your mind to go to work for us?"</p> +<p>"A week ago," Comrade Peck replied blandly.</p> +<p>"And what was your grade when Kaiser Bill went A.W.O.L.?"</p> +<p>"I was a buck."</p> +<p>"I don't believe you. Didn't anybody ever offer you something +better?"</p> +<p>"Frequently. However, if I had accepted I would have had to +resign the nicest job I ever had. There wasn't much money in it, +but it was filled with excitement and interesting experiments. I +used to disguise myself as a Christmas tree or a box car and pick +off German sharp-shooters. I was known as Peck's Bad Boy. I was +often tempted to quit, but whenever I'd reflect on the number of +American lives I was saving daily, a commission was just a scrap of +paper to me."</p> +<p>"If you'd ever started in any other branch of the service you'd +have run John J. Pershing down to lance corporal. Bill, listen! +Have you ever had any experience selling skunk spruce?"</p> +<p>Comrade Peck was plainly puzzled. He shook his head. "What sort +of stock is it?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Humboldt County, California, spruce, and it's coarse and +stringy and wet and heavy and smells just like a skunk directly +after using. I'm afraid Skinner's going to start you at the +bottom--and skunk spruce is it.</p> +<p>"Can you drive nails in it, Mr. Ricks?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes."</p> +<p>"Does anybody ever buy skunk spruce, sir?"</p> +<p>"Oh, occasionally one of our bright young men digs up a half-wit +who's willing to try anything once. Otherwise, of course, we would +not continue to manufacture it. Fortunately, Bill, we have very +little of it, but whenever our woods boss runs across a good tree +he hasn't the heart to leave it standing, and as a result, we +always have enough skunk spruce on hand to keep our salesmen +humble."</p> +<p>"I can sell anything--at a price," Comrade Peck replied +unconcernedly, and continued on his way back to the office.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>IV</h2> +<p>For two months Cappy Ricks saw nothing of Bill Peck. That +enterprising veteran had been sent out into the Utah, Arizona, New +Mexico and Texas territory the moment he had familiarized himself +with the numerous details regarding freight rates, weights and the +mills he represented, all things which a salesman should be +familiar with before he starts out on the road. From Salt Lake City +he wired an order for two carloads of larch rustic and in Ogden he +managed to inveigle a retail yard with which Mr. Skinner had been +trying to do business for years, into sampling a carload of skunk +spruce boards, random lengths and grades, at a dollar above the +price given him by Skinner. In Arizona he worked up some new +business in mining timbers, but it was not until he got into the +heart of Texas that Comrade Peck really commenced to demonstrate +his selling ability. Standard oil derricks were his specialty and +he shot the orders in so fast that Mr. Skinner was forced to wire +him for mercy and instruct him to devote his talent to the disposal +of cedar shingles and siding, Douglas fir and redwood. Eventually +he completed his circle and worked his way home, via Los Angeles, +pausing however, in the San Joaquin Valley to sell two more +carloads of skunk spruce. When this order was wired in, Mr. Skinner +came to Cappy Ricks with the telegram.</p> +<p>"Well, I must admit Comrade Peck can sell lumber," he announced +grudgingly. "He has secured five new accounts and here is an order +for two more carloads of skunk spruce. I'll have to raise his +salary about the first of the year.</p> +<p>"My dear Skinner, why the devil wait until the first of the +year? Your pernicious habit of deferring the inevitable parting +with money has cost us the services of more than one good man. You +know you have to raise Comrade Peck's salary sooner or later, so +why not do it now and smile like a dentifrice advertisement while +you're doing it? Comrade Peck will feel a whole lot better as a +result, and who knows? He may conclude you're a human being, after +all, and learn to love you?"</p> +<p>"Very well, sir. I'll give him the same salary Andrews was +getting before Peck took over his territory."</p> +<p>"Skinner, you make it impossible for me to refrain from showing +you who's boss around here. He's better than Andrews, isn't +he?"</p> +<p>"I think he is, sir."</p> +<p>"Well then, for the love of a square deal, pay him more and pay +it to him from the first day he went to work. Get out. You make me +nervous. By the way, how is Andrews getting along in his Shanghai +job?"</p> +<p>"He's helping the cable company pay its income tax. Cables about +three times a week on matters he should decide for himself. Matt +Peasley is disgusted with him."</p> +<p>"Ah! Well, I'm not disappointed. And I suppose Matt will be in +here before long to remind me that I was the bright boy who picked +Andrews for the job. Well, I did, but I call upon you to remember. +Skinner, when I'm assailed, that Andrews' appointment was +temporary."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir, it was."</p> +<p>"Well, I suppose I'll have to cast about for his successor and +beat Matt out of his cheap 'I told you so' triumph. I think Comrade +Peck has some of the earmarks of a good manager for our Shanghai +office, but I'll have to test him a little further." He looked up +humorously at Mr. Skinner. "Skinner, my dear boy," he continued, +"I'm going to have him deliver a blue vase."</p> +<p>Mr. Skinner's cold features actually glowed. "Well, tip the +chief of police and the proprietor of the store off this time and +save yourself some money," he warned Cappy. He walked to the window +and looked down into California Street. He continued to smile.</p> +<p>"Yes," Cappy continued dreamily, "I think I shall give him the +thirty-third degree. You'll agree with me, Skinner, that if he +delivers the blue vase he'll be worth ten thousand dollars a year +as our Oriental manager?"</p> +<p>"I'll say he will," Mr. Skinner replied slangily.</p> +<p>"Very well, then. Arrange matters, Skinner, so that he will be +available for me at one o'clock, a week from Sunday. I'll attend to +the other details."</p> +<p>Mr. Skinner nodded. He was still chuckling when he departed for +his own office.</p> +<hr /> +<h2>V</h2> +<p>A week from the succeeding Saturday, Mr. Skinner did not come +down to the office, but a telephone message from his home informed +the chief clerk that Mr. Skinner was at home and somewhat +indisposed. The chief clerk was to advise Mr. Peck that he, Mr. +Skinner, had contemplated having a conference with the latter that +day, but that his indisposition would prevent this. Mr. Skinner +hoped to be feeling much better tomorrow, and since he was very +desirous of a conference with Mr. Peck before the latter should +depart on his next selling pilgrimage, on Monday, would Mr. Peck be +good enough to call at Mr. Skinner's house at one o'clock Sunday +afternoon? Mr. Peck sent back word that he would be there at the +appointed time and was rewarded with Mr. Skinner's thanks, via the +chief clerk.</p> +<p>Promptly at one o'clock the following day, Bill Peck reported at +the general manager's house. He found Mr. Skinner in bed, reading +the paper and looking surprisingly well. He trusted Mr. Skinner +felt better than he looked. Mr. Skinner did, and at once entered +into a discussion of the new customers, other prospects he +particularly desired Mr. Peck to approach, new business to be +investigated, and further details without end. And in the midst of +this conference Cappy Riggs telephoned.</p> +<p>A portable telephone stood on a commode beside Mr. Skinner's +bed, so the latter answered immediately. Comrade Peck watched +Skinner listen attentively for fully two minutes, then heard him +say:</p> +<p>"Mr. Ricks, I'm terribly sorry. I'd love to do this errand for +you, but really I'm under the weather. In fact, I'm in bed as I +speak to you now. But Mr. Peck is here with me and I'm sure he'll be +very happy to attend to the matter for you."</p> +<p>"By all means," Bill Peck hastened to assure the general +manager. "Who does Mr. Ricks want killed and where will he have the +body delivered?"</p> +<p>"Hah-hah! Hah-Hah!" Mr. Skinner had a singularly annoying, +mirthless laugh, as if he begrudged himself such an unheard-of +indulgence. "Mr. Peck says," he informed Cappy, "that he'll be +delighted to attend to the matter for you. He wants to know whom +you want killed and where you wish the body delivered. Hah-hah! +Hah! Peck, Mr. Ricks will speak to you."</p> +<p>Bill Peck took the telephone. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ricks."</p> +<p>"Hello, old soldier. What are you doing this afternoon?"</p> +<p>"Nothing--after I conclude my conference with Mr. Skinner. By +the way, he has just given me a most handsome boost in salary, for +which I am most appreciative. I feel, however, despite Mr. +Skinner's graciousness, that you have put in a kind word for me +with him, and I want to thank you--"</p> +<p>"Tut, tut. Not a peep out of you, sir. Not a peep. You get +nothing for nothing from Skinner or me. However, in view of the +fact that you're feeling kindly toward me this afternoon, I wish +you'd do a little errand for me. I can't send a boy and I hate to +make a messenger out of you--er--ah--ahem! That is +har-umph-h-h--!"</p> +<p>"I have no false pride, Mr. Ricks."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Bill. Glad you feel that way about it. Bill, I was +prowling around town this forenoon, after church, and down in a +store on Sutter Street, between Stockton and Powell Street, on the +right hand side as you face Market Street, I saw a blue vase in a +window. I have a weakness for vases, Bill. I'm a sharp on them, +too. Now, this vase I saw isn't very expensive as vases go--in +fact, I wouldn't buy it for my collection--but one of the finest +and sweetest ladies of my acquaintance has the mate to that blue +vase I saw in the window, and I know she'd be prouder than Punch if +she had two of them--one for each side of her drawing room mantel, +understand?</p> +<p>"Now, I'm leaving from the Southern Pacific depot at eight +o'clock tonight, bound for Santa Barbara to attend her wedding +anniversary tomorrow night. I forget what anniversary it is, Bill, +but I have been informed by my daughter that I'll be very much +<i>de trop</i> if I send her any present other than something in +porcelain or China or Cloisonné--well, Bill, this crazy +little blue vase just fills the order. Understand?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir. You feel that it would be most graceful on your part +if you could bring this little blue vase down to Santa Barbara with +you tonight. You have to have it tonight, because if you wait until +the store opens on Monday the vase will reach your hostess +twenty-four hours after her anniversary party."</p> +<p>"Exactly, Bill. Now, I've simply got to have that vase. If I had +discovered it yesterday I wouldn't be asking you to get it for me +today, Bill."</p> +<p>"Please do not make any explanations or apologies, Mr. Ricks. +You have described the vase--no you haven't. What sort of blue is +it, how tall is it and what is, approximately, its greatest +diameter? Does it set on a base, or does it not? Is it a solid +blue, or is it figured?"</p> +<p>It's a Cloisonné vase, Bill--sort of old Dutch blue, or +Delft, with some Oriental funny-business on it. I couldn't describe +it exactly, but it has some birds and flowers on it. It's about a +foot tall and four inches in diameter and sets on a teak-wood +base."</p> +<p>"Very well, sir. You shall have it."</p> +<p>"And you'll deliver it to me in stateroom A, car 7, aboard the +train at Third and Townsend Streets, at seven fifty-five +tonight?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Bill. The expense will be trifling. Collect it from +the cashier in the morning, and tell him to charge it to my +account." And Cappy hung up.</p> +<p>At once Mr. Skinner took up the thread of the interrupted +conference, and it was not until three o'clock that Bill Peck left +his house and proceeded downtown to locate Cappy Rick's blue +vase.</p> +<p>He proceeded to the block in Sutter Street between Stockton and +Powell Streets, and although he walked patiently up one side of the +street and down the other, not a single vase of any description +showed in any shop window, nor could he find a single shop where +such a vase as Cappy had described might, perchance, be displayed +for sale.</p> +<p>"I think the old boy has erred in the co-ordinates of the +target," Bill Peck concluded, "or else I misunderstood him. I'll +telephone his house and ask him to repeat them."</p> +<p>He did, but nobody was at home except a Swedish maid, and all +she knew was that Mr. Ricks was out and the hour of his return was +unknown. So Mr. Peck went back to Sutter Street and scoured once +more every shop window in the block. Then he scouted two blocks +above Powell and two blocks below Stockton. Still the blue vase +remained invisible.</p> +<p>So he transferred his search to a corresponding area on Bush +Street, and when that failed, he went painstakingly over four +blocks of Post Street. He was still without results when he moved +one block further west and one further south and discovered the +blue vase in a huge plate-glass window of a shop on Geary Street +near Grant Avenue. He surveyed it critically and was convinced that +it was the object he sought.</p> +<p>He tried the door, but it was locked, as he had anticipated it +would be. So he kicked the door and raised an infernal racket, +hoping against hope that the noise might bring a watchman from the +rear of the building. In vain. He backed out to the edge of the +sidewalk and read the sign over the door:</p> +<blockquote>B. Cohen's Art Shop</blockquote> +<p>This was a start, so Mr. Peck limped over to the Palace Hotel +and procured a telephone directory. By actual count there were +nineteen B. Cohens scattered throughout the city, so before +commencing to call the nineteen, Bill Peck borrowed the city +directory from the hotel clerk and scanned it for the particular B. +Cohen who owned the art shop. His search availed him nothing. B. +Cohen was listed as an art dealer at the address where the blue +vase reposed in the show window. That was all.</p> +<p>"I suppose he's a commuter," Mr. Peck concluded, and at once +proceeded to procure directories of the adjacent cities of +Berkeley, Oakland and Alameda. They were not available, so in +despair he changed a dollar into five cent pieces, sought a +telephone booth and commenced calling up all the B. Cohens in San +Francisco. Of the nineteen, four did not answer, three were +temporarily disconnected, six replied in Yiddish, five were not the +B. Cohen he sought, and one swore he was Irish and that his name +was spelled Cohan and pronounced with an accent on both +syllables.</p> +<p>The B. Cohens resident in Berkeley, Oakland, Alameda, San +Rafael, Sausalito, Mill Valley, San Mateo, Redwood City and Palo +Alto were next telephoned to, and when this long and expensive task +was done, Ex-Private Bill Peck emerged from the telephone booth +wringing wet with perspiration and as irritable as a clucking hen. +Once outside the hotel he raised his haggard face to heaven and +dumbly queried of the Almighty what He meant by saving him from +quick death on the field of honor only to condemn him to be talked +to death by B. Cohens in civil life.</p> +<p>It was now six o'clock. Suddenly Peck had an inspiration. Was +the name spelled Cohen, Cohan, Cohn, Kohn or Coen?</p> +<p>"If I have to take a Jewish census again tonight I'll die," he +told himself desperately, and went back to the art shop.</p> +<p>The sign read: B. COHN'S ART SHOP.</p> +<p>"I wish I knew a bootlegger's joint," poor Peck complained. "I'm +pretty far gone and a little wood alcohol couldn't hurt me much +now. Why, I could have sworn that name was spelled with an E. It +seems to me I noted that particularly."</p> +<p>He went back to the hotel telephone booth and commenced calling +up all the B. Cohns in town. There were eight of them and six of +them were out, one was maudlin with liquor and the other was very +deaf and shouted unintelligibly.</p> +<p>"Peace hath its barbarities no less than war," Mr. Peck sighed. +He changed a twenty-dollar bill into nickles, dimes and quarters, +returned to the hot, ill-smelling telephone booth and proceeded to +lay down a barrage of telephone calls to the B. Cohns of all towns +of any importance contiguous to San Francisco Bay. And he was +lucky. On the sixth call he located the particular B. Cohn in San +Rafael, only to be informed by Mr. Cohn's cook that Mr. Cohn was +dining at the home of a Mr. Simons in Mill Valley.</p> +<p>There were three Mr. Simons in Mill Valley, and Peck called them +all before connecting with the right one. Yes, Mr. B. Cohn was +there. Who wished to speak to him? Mr. Heck? Oh, Mr. Lake! A +silence. Then--Mr. Cohn says he doesn't know any Mr. Lake and wants +to know the nature of your business. He is dining and doesn't like +to be disturbed unless the matter is of grave importance."</p> +<p>"Tell him Mr. Peck wishes to speak to him on a matter of very +great importance," wailed the ex-private.</p> +<p>"Mr. Metz? Mr. Ben Metz?</p> +<p>"No, no, no. Peck--p-e-c-k."</p> +<p>"D-e-c-k?"</p> +<p>"No, P."</p> +<p>"C?"</p> +<p>"P."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, E. E-what?"</p> +<p>"C-K--"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, Mr. Eckstein."</p> +<p>"Call Cohn to the 'phone or I'll go over there on the next boat +and kill you, you damned idiot," shrieked Peck. "Tell him his store +is on fire."</p> +<p>That message was evidently delivered for almost instantly Mr. B. +Cohn was puffing and spluttering into the phone.</p> +<p>"Iss dot der fire marshal?" he managed to articulate.</p> +<p>"Listen, Mr. Cohn. Your store is not on fire, but I had to say +so in order to get you to the telephone. I am Mr. Peck, a total +stranger to you. You have a blue vase in your shop window on Geary +Street in San Francisco. I want to buy it and I want to buy it +before seven forty-five tonight. I want you to come across the bay +and open the store and sell me that vase."</p> +<p>"Such a business! Vot you think I am? Crazy?"</p> +<p>"No, Mr. Cohn, I do not. I'm the only crazy man talking. I'm +crazy for that vase and I've got to have it right away."</p> +<p>"You know vot dot vase costs?" Mr. B. Cohn's voice dripped +syrup.</p> +<p>"No, and I don't give a hoot what it costs. I want what I want +when I want it. Do I get it?"</p> +<p>"Ve-ell, lemme see. Vot time iss it?" A silence while B. Cohn +evidently looked at his watch. "It iss now a quarter of seven, Mr. +Eckstein, und der nexd drain from Mill Valley don't leaf until +eight o'clock. Dot vill get me to San Francisco at eight-fifty--und +I am dining mit friends und haf just finished my soup."</p> +<p>"To hell with your soup. I want that blue vase."</p> +<p>"Vell, I tell you, Mr. Eckstein, if you got to have it, call up +my head salesman, Herman Joost, in der Chilton Apardments--Prospect +three--two--four--nine, und tell him I said he should come down +right avay qvick und sell you dot blue vase. Goodbye, Mr. +Eckstein."</p> +<p>And B. Cohn hung up.</p> +<p>Instantly Peck called Prospect 3249 and asked for Herman Joost. +Mr. Joost's mother answered. She was desolated because Herman was +not at home, but vouchsafed the information that he was dining at +the country club. Which country club? She did not know. So Peck +procured from the hotel clerk a list of the country clubs in and +around San Francisco and started calling them up. At eight o'clock +he was still being informed that Mr. Juice was not a member, that +Mr. Luce wasn't in, that Mr. Coos had been dead three months and +that Mr. Boos had played but eight holes when he received a +telegram calling him back to New York. At the other clubs Mr. Joust +was unknown.</p> +<p>"Licked," murmured Bill Peck, "but never let it be said that I +didn't go down fighting. I'm going to heave a brick through that +show window, grab the vase and run with it."</p> +<p>He engaged a taxicab and instructed the driver to wait for him +at the corner of Geary and Stockton Streets. Also, he borrowed from +the chauffeur a ball peen hammer. When he reached the art shop of +B. Cohn, however, a policeman was standing in the doorway, +violating the general orders of a policeman on duty by +surreptitiously smoking a cigar.</p> +<p>"He'll nab me if I crack that window," the desperate Peck +decided, and continued on down the street, crossed to the other +side and came back. It was now dark and over the art shop B. Cohn's +name burned in small red, white and blue electric lights.</p> +<p>And lo, it was spelled B. Cohen!</p> +<p>Ex-private William E. Peck sat down on a fire hydrant and cursed +with rage. His weak leg hurt him, too, and for some damnable +reason, the stump of his left arm developed the feeling that his +missing hand was itchy.</p> +<p>"The world is filled with idiots," he raved furiously. "I'm +tired and I'm hungry. I skipped luncheon and I've been too busy to +think of dinner."</p> +<p>He walked back to his taxicab and returned to the hotel where, +hope springing eternal in his breast, he called Prospect 3249 again +and discovered that the missing Herman Joost had returned to the +bosom of his family. To him the frantic Peck delivered the message +of B. Cohn, whereupon the cautious Herman Joost replied that he +would confirm the authenticity of the message by telephoning to Mr. +Cohn at Mr. Simon's home in Mill Valley. If Mr. B. Cohn or Cohen +confirmed Mr. Kek's story he, the said Herman Joost, would be at +the store sometime before nine o'clock, and if Mr. Kek cared to, he +might await him there.</p> +<p>Mr. Kek said he would be delighted to wait for him there.</p> +<p>At nine-fifteen Herman Joost appeared on the scene. On his way +down the street he had taken the precaution to pick up a policeman +and bring him along with him. The lights were switched on in the +store and Mr. Joost lovingly abstracted the blue vase from the +window.</p> +<p>"What's the cursed thing worth?" Peck demanded.</p> +<p>"Two thousand dollars," Mr. Joost replied without so much as the +quiver of an eyelash. "Cash," he added, apparently as an +afterthought.</p> +<p>The exhausted Peck leaned against the sturdy guardian of the law +and sighed. This was the final straw. He had about ten dollars in +his possession.</p> +<p>"You refuse, absolutely, to accept my check?" he quavered.</p> +<p>"I don't know you, Mr. Peck," Herman Joost replied simply.</p> +<p>"Where's your telephone?"</p> +<p>Mr. Joost led Peck to the telephone and the latter called up Mr. +Skinner.</p> +<p>"Mr. Skinner," he announced, "this is all that is mortal of Bill +Peck speaking. I've got the store open and for two thousand +dollars--cash--I can buy the blue vase Mr. Ricks has set his heart +upon."</p> +<p>"Oh, Peck, dear fellow," Mr. Skinner purred sympathetically. +"Have you been all this time on that errand?"</p> +<p>"I have. And I'm going to stick on the job until I deliver the +goods. For God's sake let me have two thousand dollars and bring it +down to me at B. Cohen's Art Shop on Geary Street near Grant +Avenue. I'm too utterly exhausted to go up after it."</p> +<p>"My dear Mr. Peck, I haven't two thousand dollars in my house. +That is too great a sum of money to keep on hand."</p> +<p>"Well, then, come downtown, open up the office safe and get the +money for me."</p> +<p>"Time lock on the office safe, Peck. Impossible."</p> +<p>"Well then, come downtown and identify me at hotels and +cafés and restaurants so I can cash my own check."</p> +<p>"Is your check good, Mr. Peck?"</p> +<p>The flood of invective which had been accumulating in Mr. Peck's +system all the afternoon now broke its bounds. He screamed at Mr. +Skinner a blasphemous invitation to betake himself to the lower +regions.</p> +<p>"Tomorrow morning," he promised hoarsely, "I'll beat you to +death with the stump of my left arm, you miserable, cold-blooded, +lazy, shiftless slacker."</p> +<p>He called up Cappy Ricks' residence next, and asked for Captain +Matt Peasley, who, he knew, made his home with his father-in-law. +Matt Peasley came to the telephone and listened sympathetically to +Peck's tale of woe.</p> +<p>"Peck, that's the worst outrage I ever heard of," he declared. +"The idea of setting you such a task. You take my advice and forget +the blue vase."</p> +<p>"I can't," Peck panted. "Mr. Ricks will feel mighty chagrined if +I fail to get the vase to him. I wouldn't disappoint him for my +right arm. He's been a dead game sport with me, Captain +Peasley."</p> +<p>"But it's too late to get the vase to him, Peck. He left the +city at eight o'clock and it is now almost half past nine."</p> +<p>"I know, but if I can secure legal possession of the vase I'll +get it to him before he leaves the train at Santa Barbara at six +o'clock tomorrow morning."</p> +<p>"How?"</p> +<p>"There's a flying school out at the Marina and one of the pilots +there is a friend of mine. He'll fly to Santa Barbara with me and +the vase."</p> +<p>"You're crazy."</p> +<p>"I know it. Please lend me two thousand dollars."</p> +<p>"What for?"</p> +<p>"To pay for the vase."</p> +<p>"Now I know you're crazy--or drunk. Why if Cappy Ricks ever +forgot himself to the extent of paying two hundred dollars for a +vase he'd bleed to death in an hour."</p> +<p>"Won't you let me have two thousand dollars, Captain +Peasley?"</p> +<p>"I will not, Peck, old son. Go home and to bed and forget +it."</p> +<p>"Please. You can cash your checks. You're known so much better +than I, and it's Sunday night--"</p> +<p>"And it's a fine way to keep holy the Sabbath day," Matt Peasley +retorted and hung up.</p> +<p>"Well," Herman Joost queried, "do we stay here all night?"</p> +<p>Bill Peck bowed his head. "Look here," he demanded suddenly, "do +you know a good diamond when you see it?"</p> +<p>"I do," Herman Joost replied.</p> +<p>"Will you wait here until I go to my hotel and get one?"</p> +<p>"Sure."</p> +<p>Bill Peck limped painfully away. Forty minutes later he returned +with a platinum ring set with diamonds and sapphires.</p> +<p>"What are they worth?" he demanded.</p> +<p>Herman Joost looked the ring over lovingly and appraised it +conservatively at twenty-five hundred dollars.</p> +<p>"Take it as security for the payment of my check," Peck pleaded. +"Give me a receipt for it and after my check has gone through +clearing I'll come back and get the ring."</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes later, with the blue vase packed in excelsior +and reposing in a stout cardboard box, Bill Peck entered a +restaurant and ordered dinner. When he had dined he engaged a taxi +and was driven to the flying field at the Marina. From the night +watchman he ascertained the address of his pilot friend and at +midnight, with his friend at the wheel, Bill Peck and his blue vase +soared up into the moonlight and headed south.</p> +<p>An hour and a half later they landed in a stubble field in the +Salinas Valley and, bidding his friend good-bye, Bill Peck trudged +across to the railroad track and sat down. When the train bearing +Cappy Ricks came roaring down the valley, Peck twisted a Sunday +paper with which he had provided himself, into an improvised torch, +which he lighted. Standing between the rails he swung the flaming +paper frantically.</p> +<p>The train slid to a halt, a brakeman opened a vestibule door, +and Bill Peck stepped wearily aboard.</p> +<p>"What do you mean by flagging this train?" the brakeman demanded +angrily, as he signaled the engineer to proceed. "Got a +ticket?"</p> +<p>"No, but I've got the money to pay my way. And I flagged this +train because I wanted to change my method of travel. I'm looking +for a man in stateroom A of car 7, and if you try to block me +there'll be murder done."</p> +<p>"That's right. Take advantage of your half-portion arm and abuse +me," the brakeman retorted bitterly. "Are you looking for that +little old man with the Henry Clay collar and the white mutton-chop +whiskers?"</p> +<p>"I certainly am."</p> +<p>"Well, he was looking for you just before we left San Francisco. +He asked me if I had seen a one-armed man with a box under his good +arm. I'll lead you to him."</p> +<p>A prolonged ringing at Cappy's stateroom door brought the old +gentleman to the entrance in his nightshirt.</p> +<p>"Very sorry to have to disturb you, Mr. Ricks," said Bill Peck, +"but the fact is there were so many Cohens and Cohns and Cohans, +and it was such a job to dig up two thousand dollars, that I failed +to connect with you at seven forty-five last night, as per orders. +It was absolutely impossible for me to accomplish the task within +the time limit set, but I was resolved that you should not be +disappointed. Here is the vase. The shop wasn't within four blocks +of where you thought it was, sir, but I'm sure I found the right +vase. It ought to be. It cost enough and was hard enough to get, so +it should be precious enough to form a gift for any friend of +yours."</p> +<p>Cappy Ricks stared at Bill Peck as if the latter were a +wraith.</p> +<p>"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" he murmured. "By the Holy +Pink-toed Prophet! We changed the sign on you and we stacked the +Cohens on you and we set a policeman to guard the shop to keep you +from breaking the window, and we made you dig up two thousand +dollars on Sunday night in a town where you are practically +unknown, and while you missed the train at eight o'clock, you +overtake it at two o'clock in the morning and deliver the blue +vase. Come in and rest your poor old game leg, Bill. Brake-man, I'm +much obliged to you."</p> +<p>Bill Peck entered and slumped wearily down on the settee. "So it +was a plant?" he cracked, and his voice trembled with rage. "Well, +sir, you're an old man and you've been good to me, so I do not +begrudge you your little joke, but Mr. Ricks, I can't stand things +like I used to. My leg hurts and my stump hurts and my heart +hurts------"</p> +<p>He paused, choking, and the tears of impotent rage filled his +eyes. "You shouldn't treat me that way, sir," he complained +presently. "I've been trained not to question orders, even when +they seem utterly foolish to me; I've been trained to obey them--on +time, if possible, but if impossible, to obey them anyhow. I've +been taught loyalty to my chief--and I'm sorry my chief found it +necessary to make a buffoon of me. I haven't had a very good time +the past three years and--and--you can--pa-pa-pass your skunk +spruce and larch rustic and short odd length stock to some slacker +like Skinner--and you'd better--arrange--to replace--Skinner, +because he's young--enough to--take a beating--and I'm going +to--give it to him--and it'll be a hospital--job--sir--"</p> +<p>Cappy Ricks ruffled Bill Peck's aching head with a paternal +hand.</p> +<p>"Bill, old boy, it was cruel--damnably cruel, but I had a big +job for you and I had to find out a lot of things about you before +I entrusted you with that job. So I arranged to give you the Degree +of the Blue Vase, which is the supreme test of a go-getter. You +thought you carried into this stateroom a two thousand dollar vase, +but between ourselves, what you really carried in was a ten +thousand dollar job as our Shanghai manager."</p> +<p>"Wha--what!"</p> +<p>"Every time I have to pick out a permanent holder of a job worth +ten thousand dollars, or more, I give the candidate the Degree of +the Blue Vase," Cappy explained. "I've had two men out of a field +of fifteen deliver the vase, Bill."</p> +<p>Bill Peck had forgotten his rage, but the tears of his recent +fury still glistened in his bold blue eyes. "Thank you, sir. I +forgive you--and I'll make good in Shanghai."</p> +<p>"I know you will, Bill. Now, tell me, son, weren't you tempted +to quit when you discovered the almost insuperable obstacles I'd +placed in your way?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir, I was. I wanted to commit suicide before I'd finished +telephoning all the C-o-h-e-n-s in the world. And when I started on +the C-o-h-n-s--well, it's this way, sir. I just couldn't quit +because that would have been disloyal to a man I once knew."</p> +<p>"Who was he?" Cappy demanded, and there was awe in his +voice.</p> +<p>"He was my brigadier, and he had a brigade motto: It shall be +done. When the divisional commander called him up and told him to +move forward with his brigade and occupy certain territory, our +brigadier would say: 'Very well, sir. It shall be done.' If any +officer in his brigade showed signs of flunking his job because it +appeared impossible, the brigadier would just look at him once--and +then that officer would remember the motto and go and do his job or +die trying.</p> +<p>"In the army, sir, the <i>esprit de corps</i> doesn't bubble up +from the bottom. It filters down from the top. An organization is +what its commanding officer is--neither better nor worse. In my +company, when the top sergeant handed out a week of kitchen police +to a buck, that buck was out of luck if he couldn't muster a grin +and say: 'All right, sergeant. It shall be done.'</p> +<p>"The brigadier sent for me once and ordered me to go out and get +a certain German sniper. I'd been pretty lucky--some days I got +enough for a mess--and he'd heard of me. He opened a map and said +to me: 'Here's about where he holes up. Go get him, Private Peck.' +Well, Mr. Ricks, I snapped into it and gave him a rifle salute, and +said, 'Sir, it shall be done'--and I'll never forget the look that +man gave me. He came down to the field hospital to see me after I'd +walked into one of those Austrian 88's. I knew my left wing was a +total loss and I suspected my left leg was about to leave me, and I +was downhearted and wanted to die. He came and bucked me up. He +said: 'Why, Private Peck, you aren't half dead. In civil life +you're going to be worth half a dozen live ones--aren't you?' But I +was pretty far gone and I told him I didn't believe it, so he gave +me a hard look and said: 'Private Peck will do his utmost to +recover and as a starter he will smile.' Of course, putting it in +the form of an order, I had to give him the usual reply, so I +grinned and said: 'Sir, it shall be done.' He was quite a man, sir, +and his brigade had a soul--his soul----"</p> +<p>"I see, Bill. And his soul goes marching on, eh? Who was he, +Bill?"</p> +<p>Bill Peck named his idol.</p> +<p>"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" There was awe in Cappy Ricks' +voice, there was reverence in his faded old eyes. "Son," he +continued gently, "twenty-five years ago your brigadier was a candidate +for an important job in my employ--and I gave him the Degree of the +Blue Vase. He couldn't get the vase legitimately, so he threw a +cobble-stone through the window, grabbed the vase and ran a mile +and a half before the police captured him. Cost me a lot of money +to square the case and keep it quiet. But he was too good, Bill, +and I couldn't stand in his way; I let him go forward to his +destiny. But tell me, Bill. How did you get the two thousand +dollars to pay for this vase?"</p> +<p>"Once," said ex-Private Peck thoughtfully, "the brigadier and I +were first at a dug-out entrance. It was a headquarters dug-out and +they wouldn't surrender, so I bombed them and then we went down. I +found a finger with a ring on it--and the brigadier said if I +didn't take the ring somebody else would. I left that ring as +security for my check."</p> +<p>"But how could you have the courage to let me in for a two +thousand dollar vase? Didn't you realize that the price was absurd +and that I might repudiate the transaction?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not. You are responsible for the acts of your +servant. You are a true blue sport and would never repudiate my +action. You told me what to do, but you did not insult my +intelligence by telling me how to do it. When my late brigadier +sent me after the German sniper he didn't take into consideration +the probability that the sniper might get me. He told me to get the +sniper. It was my business to see to it that I accomplished my +mission and carried my objective, which, of course, I could not +have done if I had permitted the German to get me."</p> +<p>"I see, Bill. Well, give that blue vase to the porter in the +morning. I paid fifteen cents for it in a five, ten and fifteen +cent store. Meanwhile, hop into that upper berth and help yourself +to a well-earned rest."</p> +<p>"But aren't you going to a wedding anniversary at Santa Barbara, +Mr. Ricks?"</p> +<p>"I am not. Bill, I discovered a long time ago that it's a good +idea for me to get out of town and play golf as often as I can. +Besides which, prudence dictates that I remain away from the office +for a week after the seeker of blue vases fails to deliver the +goods and--by the way, Bill, what sort of a game do you play? Oh, +forgive me, Bill. I forgot about your left arm."</p> +<p>"Say, look here, sir," Bill Peck retorted, "I'm big enough and +ugly enough to play one-handed golf."</p> +<p>"But, have you ever tried it?"</p> +<p>"No, sir," Bill Peck replied seriously, "but--it shall be +done!"</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12257 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |