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diff --git a/32243-h/32243-h.htm b/32243-h/32243-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..265e0cd --- /dev/null +++ b/32243-h/32243-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2045 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Confidence Game, by James McKimmey, Jr</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + /* slight differences for print and screen */ + @media print { + span.pgmark {border: 0 !important; } + hr.pg {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + .main p {margin-bottom: 0.25em; + text-indent: 2em; } + body {margin-right: 0; + margin-left: 0; } + } + @media screen { + span.pgmark {border-top: thin solid silver; + border-bottom: thin solid silver; + display: inline!important; + visibility: visible!important; + position: absolute; left: 1%; } + p {margin-bottom: 0.75em; + text-indent: 0; } + body {margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + } + + body {font-size: medium; } + + h1 {text-indent: 0; + text-align: left; + font-family: sans-serif; + font-weight: normal; + font-size: 320%; + margin: 0 auto; + word-spacing: 0.15em; + padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 0.5em; } + + div.main {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + margin-top: 0; + padding-top: 3em; + padding-bottom: 3em; + max-width: 32em; } + div.main p {text-align: justify; + margin-top: 0; + line-height: 1.3; } + + /* for transcriber's note */ + div.tnote {border: dashed 1px; + padding: .5em; + margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 6em; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.tnote p {text-indent: 0; + margin-top: .5em; + font-size: 85%;} + div.tnote h3 {text-indent: 0; + text-align: left; + font-size: 110%; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: bold; + padding-top: 60px; + letter-spacing: 0;} + .clearup {clear: left; line-height: 0; } + + p.blurb {text-indent: 0!important; + text-align: justify!important; + font-family: sans-serif; + font-size: 110%; + margin: 2em auto 0 auto!important; + line-height: 2!important; } + p.author {text-indent: 0!important; + text-align: right!important; + font-family: sans-serif; + font-size: 110%; + font-variant: small-caps; + margin: 2em 0 2em auto!important; } + + div.illus {margin: 4em auto; + width: 578px; } + + /* links */ + @media print { + a:link {color: black; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {color: black; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + } + + @media screen { + a:link {color: blue; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {color: blue; background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none;} + a:hover {color: red; background-color: inherit;} + a:focus {outline: #ffee66 solid 2px; color: inherit; background-color: #ffee66;} + } + + span.pgmark {display: none; visibility: hidden; /* over-ridden for screen devices */ + font-size: x-small; + font-family: serif; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + line-height: 1.2; + letter-spacing: 0; + text-indent: 0; text-align: left; + margin: 0; padding: .05em 0.5em !important; } + + hr {background-color: black; color: inherit; padding: 0;} + + .ns {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + em, cite {font-style: italic; } + .tb {padding-top: 1.7em; } + .noindent {text-indent: 0!important; } + .fltright {float: right; width: auto; margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; } + .fltleft {float: left; width: auto; margin-right: 4em; } + .framed {border: thin solid black; } + .uc {text-transform: uppercase; margin-left: -4px; } + .drop {font-size: 275%; + float: left; width: auto; + line-height: 90%; + padding-right: 4px;} + .ctr {text-align: center; } + + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Confidence Game, by James McKimmey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Confidence Game + +Author: James McKimmey + +Release Date: May 4, 2010 [EBook #32243] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONFIDENCE GAME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, David Wilson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<hr class="pg" /> + +<div class="tnote"> +<img class="framed fltleft" src="images/cover.jpg" width="227" height="299" + alt="If: Worlds of Science Fiction" title="Magazine Cover" /> +<h3>Transcriber’s note:</h3> +<p>This story was published in <cite>If: Worlds of Science Fiction</cite>, + September 1954. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p><p class="clearup"> </p> + + +</div> + + +<div class="illus"> +<p class="ctr"><a name="png.001" id="png.001" href="#png.001"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">36</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span></a> +<img src="images/illo-036.png" width="578" height="560" + alt="" title="" /></p> + +<p><small><i>Illustrated by Ed Emsh</i></small></p> + +</div> + + +<div class="main"> + +<h1>CONFIDENCE GAME</h1> + +<p class="blurb"><i>Cutter demanded more and more and more efficiency—and got +it! But, as in anything, enough is enough, and too much is …</i></p> + +<p class="author">By JAMES McKIMMEY, JR.</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><a name="png.002" id="png.002" href="#png.002"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">37</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span></a><span class="drop">G</span><span class="uc">eorge H. Cutter</span> wheeled +his big convertible into his reserved +space in the Company parking +lot with a flourish. A bright +California sun drove its early +brightness down on him as he +strode toward the square, four-story +brick building which said +<i>Cutter Products, Inc.</i> over its front +door. A two-ton truck was grinding +backward, toward the loading +doors, the thick-shouldered driver +craning his neck. Cutter moved +briskly forward, a thick-shouldered +man himself, though not very tall. +A glint of light appeared in his +eyes, as he saw Kurt, the truck +driver, fitting the truck's rear end +into the tight opening.</p> + +<p>“Get that junk out of the way!” +he yelled, and his voice roared over +the noise of the truck's engine.</p> + +<p>Kurt snapped his head around, +his blue eyes thinning, then recognition +spread humor crinkles +around his eyes and mouth. “All +right, sir,” he said. “Just a second +while I jump out, and I'll lift it +out of your way.”</p> + +<p>“With bare hands?” Cutter said.</p> + +<p>“With bare hands,<!-- Transcriber's note: + original has period -->” Kurt said.</p> + +<p>Cutter's laugh boomed, and as +he rounded the front of the truck, +he struck the right front fender +with his fist. Kurt roared back from +the cab with his own laughter.</p> + +<p>He liked joking harshly with +Kurt and with the rest of the truck +drivers. They were simple, and they +didn't have his mental strength. +But they had another kind of +strength. They had muscle and +energy, and most important, they +had guts. Twenty years before Cutter +had driven a truck himself. The +drivers knew that, and there was a +bond between them, the drivers +and himself, that seldom existed +between employer and employee.</p> + +<p>The guard at the door came to +a reflex attention, and Cutter +bobbed his head curtly. Then, instead +of taking the stairway that +led up the front to the second +floor and his office, he strode down +the hallway to the left, angling +through the shop on the first floor. +He always walked through the +shop. He liked the heavy driving +sound of the machines in his ears, +and the muscled look of the men, +in their coarse work shirts and +heavy-soled shoes. Here again was +strength, in the machines and in +the men.</p> + +<p><img class="fltright" src="images/illo-037.png" width="236" height="263" + alt="Confidet on a chair" title="" />And here again too, the bond between +Cutter and his employees +was a thing as real as the whir and +grind and thump of the machines, +as real as the spray of metal dust, +spitting away from a spinning saw +blade. He was able to drive himself +through to them, through the +hard wall of unions and prejudices +against business suits and white +collars and soft clean hands, +<a name="png.003" id="png.003" href="#png.003"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">38</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>because they knew that at one time +he had also been a machinist and +then tool and die operator and +then a shop foreman. He got +through to them, and they respected +him. They were even inspired +by him, Cutter knew, by his energy +and alertness and steel confidence. +It was one good reason why their +production continually skimmed +along near the top level of efficiency.</p> + +<p>Cutter turned abruptly and +started up the metal-lipped concrete +steps to the second floor. He +went up quickly, his square, almost +chunky figure moving smoothly, +and there was not the faintest +shortening in his breath when he +reached the level of his own office.</p> + +<p>Coming up the back steps required +him to cross the entire administration +office which contained +the combined personnel of Production +Control, Procurement, and +Purchasing. And here, the sharp +edge of elation, whetted by the +walk past the loading dock and +the truck drivers and the machine +shop and the machinists, was +dulled slightly.</p> + +<p>On either side of him as he +paced rapidly across the room, +were the rows of light-oak desks +which contained the kind of men +he did not like: fragile men, +whether thin or fat, fragile just +the same, in the eyes and mouth, +and pale with their fragility. They +affected steel postures behind those +desks, but Cutter knew that the +steel was synthetic, that there was +nothing in that mimicked look of +alertness and virility but posing. +They were a breed he did not understand, +because he had never +been a part of them, and so this +time, the invisible but very real +quality of employer-employee relationship +turned coldly brittle, like +frozen cellophane.</p> + +<p>The sounds now, the clicking of +typewriters, the sliding of file +drawers, the squeak of adjusted +swivel chairs—all of it—irritated +him, rather than giving him inspiration, +and so he hurried his +way, especially when he passed that +one fellow with the sad, frightened +eyes, who touched his slim hands +at the papers on his desk, like a +cautious fawn testing the soundness +of the earth in front of him. +What was his name? Linden? God, +Cutter thought, the epitome of the +breed, this man: sallow and slow +and so hesitant that he appeared +to be about to leap from his chair +at the slightest alarm.</p> + +<p>Cutter broke his aloofness long +enough to glare at the man, and +Linden turned his frightened eyes +quickly to his desk and began shuffling +his papers nervously. Some +day, Cutter promised himself, he +was going to stop in front of the +man and shout, “Booo!” and scare +the poor devil to hell and back.</p> + +<p>He pushed the glass doors that +led to his own offices, and moving +into Lucile's ante-room restored +his humor. Lucile, matronly yet +quick and youthfully spirited, +smiled at him and met his eyes directly. +Here was some strength +again, and he felt the full energy +of his early-morning drive returning +fully. Lucile, behind her desk +in this plain but expensive reception +room, reminded him of fast, +hard efficiency, the quality of accomplishment +that he had dedicated +himself to.</p> + +<p>“Goddamned sweet morning, eh, +<a name="png.004" id="png.004" href="#png.004"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">39</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>Lucy?” he called.</p> + +<p>“Beautiful, George,” she said. She +had called him by his first name for +years. He didn't mind, from her. +Not many could do it, but those +who could, successfully, he respected.</p> + +<p>“What's up first?” he asked, and +she followed him into his own +office. It was a high-ceilinged room, +with walls bare except for a picture +of Alexander Hamilton on one +wall, and an award plaque from the +State Chamber of Commerce on +the opposite side of the room. He +spun his leather-cushioned swivel +chair toward him and sat down and +placed his thick hands against the +surface of the desk. Lucile took the +only other chair in the office, to +the side of the desk, and flipped +open her appointment pad.</p> + +<p>“Quay wants to see you right +away. Says it's important.”</p> + +<p>Cutter nodded slightly and closed +his eyes. Lucile went on, calling his +appointments for the day with +clicking precision. He stored the +information, leaning back in his +chair, adjusting his mind to each, +so that there would be no energy +wasted during the hard, swift day.</p> + +<p>“That's it,” Lucile said. “Do you +want to see Quay?”</p> + +<p>“Send him in,” Cutter said, and +he was already leaning into his +desk, signing his name to the first +of a dozen letters which he had +dictated into the machine during +the last ten minutes of the preceding +day.</p> + +<p>Lucile disappeared, and three +minutes later Robert Quay took her +place in the chair beside Cutter's +desk. He was a taller man than +Cutter, and thinner. Still, there +was an athletic grace about him, a +sureness of step and facial expression, +that made it obvious that he +was physically fit. He was single +and only thirty-five, twelve years +younger than Cutter, but he had +been with Cutter Products, Inc. for +thirteen years. In college he had +been a Phi Beta Kappa and lettered +three years on the varsity as a +quarterback. He was the kind of +rare combination that Cutter liked, +and Cutter had offered him more +than the Chicago Cardinals to get +him at graduation.</p> + +<p>Cutter felt Quay's presence, without +looking up at him. “Goddamned +sweet morning, eh, Bob?”</p> + +<p>“It really is, George,” Quay said.</p> + +<p>“What's up?” Cutter stopped +signing, having finished the entire +job, and he stared directly into +Quay's eyes. Quay met the stare +unflinchingly.</p> + +<p>“I've got a report from Sid Perry +at Adacam Research.”</p> + +<p>“Your under-cover agent again, +eh?”</p> + +<p>Quay grinned. Adacam Research +conducted industrial experimentation +which included government +work. The only way to find out +what really went on there, Cutter +had found out, was to find a key +man who didn't mind talking for a +certain amount of compensation, +regardless of sworn oaths and signatures +to government statements. +You could always get somebody, +Cutter knew, and Quay had been +able to get a young chemist, Sidney +Perry.</p> + +<p>“Okay,” Cutter said. “What are +they doing over there?”</p> + +<p>“There's a fellow who's offered +Adacam his project for testing. +They're highly interested, but +they're not going to handle it.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.005" id="png.005" href="#png.005"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">40</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span></a>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>Quay shrugged. “Too touchy. It's +a device that's based on electronics—”</p> + +<p>“What the hell is touchy about +electronics?”</p> + +<p>“This deals with the human personality,” +Quay said, as though that +were explanation enough.</p> + +<p>Cutter understood. He snorted. +“Christ, anything that deals with +the human personality scares them +over there, doesn't it?”</p> + +<p>Quay spread his hands.</p> + +<p>“All right,” Cutter said. “What's +this device supposed to do?”</p> + +<p>“The theory behind it is to produce +energy units which reach a +plane of intensity great enough to +affect<!-- Transcriber's note: + original reads "effect" --> the function of the human +ego.”</p> + +<p>“Will it?” Cutter never wasted +time on surprise or curiosity or +theory. His mind acted directly. +Would it or wouldn't it? Performance +versus non-performance. Efficiency +versus inefficiency. Would it +improve production of Cutter Products, +Inc., or would it not?</p> + +<p>“Sid swears they're convinced it +will. The factors, on paper, check +out. But there's been no experimentation, +because it involves the +human personality. This thing, +when used, is supposed to perform +a definite personality change on the +individual subjected.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“You know the theory of psychiatric +therapy—the theory of +shock treatment. The effect is some +what similar, but a thousand times +more effective.”</p> + +<p>“What <em>is</em> the effect?”</p> + +<p>“A gradual dissolving of inferiority +influences, or inhibitions, from +the personality. A clear mind resulting. +A healthy ego.”</p> + +<p>“And?”</p> + +<p>“Confidence.”</p> + +<p>Cutter stared at Quay's eyes, +assimilating the information. +“That's all very damned nice. Now +where does it fit in with Cutter +Products?”</p> + +<p>Quay drew a notebook from his +coat pocket swiftly. “You remember +that efficiency check we had +made two months ago—the rating +of individual departments on comparable +work produced?”</p> + +<p>Cutter nodded.</p> + +<p>Quay looked at his notebook. +“All administrative personnel departments +showed an average of—”</p> + +<p>“Thirty-six point eight less efficiency +than the skilled and unskilled +labor departments,” Cutter finished.</p> + +<p>Quay smiled slightly. He snapped +the notebook shut. “Right. So that's +our personnel efficiency bug.”</p> + +<p>“Christ, I've known that for +twenty years,” Cutter snapped.</p> + +<p>“Okay,” Quay said quickly, alerting +himself back to the serious +effort. “Now then, you'll remember +we submitted this efficiency report +to Babcock and Steele for analysis, +and their report offered no answer, +because their experience showed +that you <em>always</em> get that kind of +ratio, because of personality differences. +The administrative personnel +show more inferiority<!-- Transcriber's note: + original reads "infieriority" --> influences +per man, thus less confidence, thus +less efficiency.”</p> + +<p>“I remember all that,” Cutter +said.</p> + +<p>“Their report also pointed out +that this inevitable loss of efficiency +is leveled out, by proportionately +smaller wage compensation. The +administrative personnel gets +<a name="png.006" id="png.006" href="#png.006"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">41</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>approximately twenty-five percent less +compensation than the skilled labor +personnel, and the remaining eleven +point eight percent loss of efficiency +is made up by the more highly +efficient unskilled labor receiving +approximately the same compensation +as the administrative personnel.”</p> + +<p>“I remember all that nonsense, +too,” Cutter reddened faintly with +a sudden anger. He did not believe +the statistics were nonsense, only +that you should expect to write off +a thirty-six point eight efficiency loss +on the basis of adjusted compensation. +A thirty-six point eight efficiency +loss was a comparable loss +in profits. You never compensated +a loss in profits, except by erasing +that loss. “And so this is supposed +to fix it?”</p> + +<p>Quay's head bobbed. “It's worth +a try, it seems to me. I've talked +to Sid about it extensively, and he +tells me that Bolen, who's developed +this thing, would be willing to install +enough units to cover the entire +administrative force, from the +department-head level down.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>Quay motioned a hand. “It's no +larger than a slightly thick saucer. +It could be put inside the chairs.” +Quay smiled faintly. “They sit on +it, you see, and—”</p> + +<p>Cutter was not amused. “How +much?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” Quay said quickly. +“Absolutely nothing. Bolen wants +actual tests badly, and the Institute +wouldn't do it. Snap your fingers, +and give him a hundred and fifty +people to work on, and it's yours to +use for nothing. He'll do the installing, +and he <em>wants</em> to keep it secret. +It's essential, he says, to get an accurate +reaction from the subjects +affected<!-- Transcriber's note: + original reads "effected" -->. For him it's perfect, because +we're running a continuous +efficiency check, and if this thing +does the job like it's supposed to do +it, we'll have gained the entire +benefits for nothing. How can we +lose?”</p> + +<p>Cutter stared at Quay for a moment, +his mind working swiftly. +“Call Horner in on this, but nobody +else. Absolutely nobody else. +Tell Horner to write up a contract +for this fellow to sign. Get a clause +in there to the effect that this fellow, +Bolen, assumes all responsibility +for any effects not designated +in the defining part of the contract. +Fix it up so that he's entirely +liable, then get it signed, and let's +see what happens.”</p> + +<p>Quay smiled fully and stood up. +“Right, sir.” He had done a good +job, he knew. This was the sort of +thing that would keep him solidly +entrenched in Cutter's favor. +“Right, George,” he said, remembering +that he didn't need to call +Cutter sir anymore, but he knew +he wouldn't hear any more from +Cutter, because Cutter was already +looking over a blueprint, eyes thin +and careful, mind completely adjusted +to a new problem.</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><span class="drop">E</span><span class="uc">dward Bolen</span> called the +saucer-sized disk, the Confidet. +He was a thin, short, smiling man +with fine brown hair which looked +as though it had just been ruffled +by a high wind, and he moved, Cutter +noticed, with quick, but certain +motions. The installing was done +two nights after Cutter's lawyer, +Horner, had written up the contract +and gotten it signed by Bolen. Only +<a name="png.007" id="png.007" href="#png.007"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">42</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>Quay, Bolen, and Cutter were present.</p> + +<p>Bolen fitted the disks into the +base of the plastic chair cushions, +and he explained, as he inserted +one, then another:</p> + +<p>“The energy is inside each one, +you see. The life of it is indefinite, +and the amount of energy used is +proportionate to the demand +created.”</p> + +<p>“What the hell do you mean by +energy?” Cutter demanded, watching +the small man work.</p> + +<p>Bolen laughed contentedly, and +Quay flushed with embarrassment +over anyone laughing at a question +out of Cutter's lips. But Cutter did +not react, only looked at Bolen, as +though he could see somehow, beneath +that smallness and quietness, +a certain strength. Quay had seen +that look on Cutter's face before, +and it meant simply that Cutter +would wait, analyzing expertly in +the meantime, until he found his +advantage. Quay wondered, if this +gadget worked, how long Bolen +would own the rights to it.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" />Cutter drove the Cadillac into +Hallery Boulevard, as though the +automobile were an English Austin, +and just beyond the boundaries of +the city, cut off into the hills, sliding +into the night and the relative +darkness of the exclusive, sparsely +populated Green Oaks section.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, his house, a +massive stone structure which +looked as though it had been shifted +intact from the center of some +medieval moat, loomed up, gray +and stony, and Capra, his handyman, +took over the car and drove +it into the garage, while Cutter +strode up the wide steps to the +door.</p> + +<p>Niels took his hat, and Mary was +waiting for him in the library.</p> + +<p>She was a rather large woman, +although not fat, and when she +wore high heels—which she was +not prone to do, because although +Cutter would not have cared, she +kept trying to project into other +people's minds and trying, as she +said, “Not to do anything to them, +that I wouldn't want them to do to +me.”—she rose a good inch above +Cutter. She was pleasant humored, +and cooperative, and the one great +irritant about her that annoyed +Cutter, was the fact that she was +not capable of meeting life wholeheartedly +and with strength.</p> + +<p>She steadily worried about other +people's feelings and thoughts, so +that Cutter wondered if she were +capable of the slightest personal +conviction. Yet that weakness was +an advantage at the same time, to +him, because she worked constantly +toward making him happy. The +house was run to his minutest liking, +and the servants liked her, so +that while she did not use a strong +enough hand, they somehow got +things done for her, and Cutter had +no real complaint. Someday, he +knew, he would be able to develop +her into the full potential he knew +she was capable of achieving, and +then there wouldn't be even that +one annoyance about her.</p> + +<p>He sat down in the large, worn, +leather chair, and she handed him +a Scotch and water, and kissed his +cheek, and then sat down opposite +him in a smaller striped-satin chair.</p> + +<p>“Did you have a nice day, dear?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>She was always pleasant and she +always smiled at him, and she was +<a name="png.008" id="png.008" href="#png.008"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">43</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>indeed a handsome woman. They +had been married but five years, +and she was almost fifteen years +younger than he, but they had a +solid understanding. She respected +his work, and she was careful with +the money he allowed her, and she +never forgot the Scotch and water. +“The day was all right,” he said.</p> + +<p>“My goodness,” she said, “you +worked late. Do you want dinner +right away?”</p> + +<p>“I had some sandwiches at the +office,” he said, drinking slowly.</p> + +<p>“That isn't enough,” she said reproachfully, +and he enjoyed her +concern over him. “You'd better +have some nice roast beef that +Andre did just perfectly. And +there's some wonderful dressing +that I made myself, for just a small +salad.”</p> + +<p>He smiled finally. “All right,” he +said. “All right.”</p> + +<p>She got up and kissed him again, +and he relaxed in the large chair, +sipping contentedly at his drink, listening +to her footsteps hurrying +away, the sound another indication +that she was doing something for +him. He felt tired and easy. He let +his mind relax with his body. The +gadget, the Confidet; that was going +to work, he knew. It would erase +the last important bug in his operational +efficiency, and then he might +even expand, the way he had +wanted to all along. He closed his +eyes for a moment, tasting of his +contentment, and then he heard the +sound of his dinner being placed on +the dining room table, and he stood +up briskly and walked out of the +library. He really was hungry, he +realized. Not only hungry but, he +thought, he might make love to +Mary that evening.</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><span class="drop">T</span><span class="uc">he first</span> indication that the +Confidet might be working, +came three weeks later, when Quay +handed Cutter the report showing +an efficiency increase of 3.7 percent. +“I think that should tell the +story,” Quay said elatedly.</p> + +<p>“Doesn't mean anything,” Cutter +said. “Could be a thousand other +factors besides that damned gimmick.”</p> + +<p>“But we've never been able to +show more than one point five +variance on the administrative +checks.”</p> + +<p>“The trouble with you, Quay,” +Cutter said brusquely, “is you keep +looking for miracles. You think the +way to get things in this world is +to hope real hard. Nothing comes +easy, and I've got half a notion +to get those damned silly things +jerked out.” He bent over his work, +obviously finished with Quay, and +Quay, deflated, paced out of the +office.</p> + +<p>Cutter smiled inside the empty +office. He liked to see Quay's enthusiasm +broken now and then. It +took that, to mold a really good +man, because that way he assumed +real strength after a while. If he +got knocked down and got up +enough, he didn't fall apart when +he hit a really tough obstacle. Cutter +was not unhappy about the +efficiency figures at all, and he +knew as well as Quay that they were +decisive.</p> + +<p>Give it another two weeks, he +thought, and if the increase was +comparable, then they might have +a real improvement on their hands. +Those limp, jumpy creatures on the +desks out there might actually start +earning their keep. He was thinking +about that, what it would mean to +<a name="png.009" id="png.009" href="#png.009"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">44</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>the total profit, when Lucile opened +his door and he caught a glimpse of +the office outside, including the +clerk with the sad, frightened eyes. +Even you, Linden, Cutter thought, +we might even improve you.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" />The increase <em>was</em> comparable +after another two weeks. In fact, +the efficiency figure jumped to 8.9. +Quay was too excited to be knocked +down this time, and Cutter was +unable to suppress his own pleasure.</p> + +<p>“This is really it this time, +George,” Quay said. “It really is. +And here.” He handed Cutter a set +of figures. “Here's what accounting +estimates the profit to be on this +eight-nine figure.”</p> + +<p>Cutter nodded, his eyes thinning +the slightest bit. “We won't see +that for a while.”</p> + +<p>“No,” Quay said, “but we'll see +it! We'll sure as hell see it! And if +it goes much higher, we'll absolutely +balance out!”</p> + +<p>“What does Bolen figure the top +to be?”</p> + +<p>“Ten percent.”</p> + +<p>“Why not thirty-six point eight?” +Cutter said, his eyes bright and +narrow.</p> + +<p>Quay whistled. “Even at ten, at +the wage we're paying—”</p> + +<p>“Never settle for quarters or +thirds,” Cutter said. “Get the whole +thing. Send for Bolen. I want to +talk to him. And in the meantime, +Bob, this is such a goddamned sweet +morning, what do you say we go +to lunch early?”</p> + +<p>Quay blinked only once, which +proved his adaptability. Cutter had +just asked him to lunch, as though +it were their habit to lunch together +regularly, when in reality, +Quay had never once gone to lunch +with Cutter before. Quay was quite +nonchalant, however, and he said, +“Why, fine, George. I think that's +a good idea.”</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><span class="drop">B</span><span class="uc">olen</span> appeared in Cutter's +office the next morning, smiling, +his eyes darting quickly about +Cutter's desk and walls, so that +Cutter felt,<!-- Transcriber's note: + comma invisible in original --> for a moment, that +showing Bolen anything as personal +as his office, was a little like letting +the man look into his brain.</p> + +<p>“Quay tells me you've set ten +percent as the top efficiency increase +we can count on, Bolen.” +Cutter said it directly, to the point.</p> + +<p>Bolen smiled, examining Cutter's +hands and suit and eyes. “That's +right, Mr. Cutter.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>Bolen placed his small hands on +his lap, looked at the tapered fingers, +then up again at Cutter. He +kept smiling. “It's a matter of +saturation.”</p> + +<p>“How in hell could ten percent +more efficiency turn into saturation?”</p> + +<p>“Not ten percent more efficiency,” +Bolen said quietly. “Ten percent +<em>effect</em> on the individual who +<em>creates</em> the efficiency. Ten percent +effect of that which <em>causes</em> him to +be ten percent more efficient.”</p> + +<p>Cutter snorted. “Whatever the +hell that damned gimmick does, it +creates confidence, drive, strength, +doesn't it? Isn't that what you +said?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Bolen said politely. “Approximately.”</p> + +<p>“Can you explain to me then, +how ten percent more confidence +in a man is saturation?”</p> + +<p><a name="png.010" id="png.010" href="#png.010"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">45</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span></a>Bolen studied what he was going +to say carefully, smiling all the +while. “Some men,” he said very +slowly, “are different than others, +Mr. Cutter. Some men will react +to personality changes as abrupt as +this in different ways than others. +You aren't too concerned, are you, +with what those changes might already +have done to any of the individuals +affected?”</p> + +<p>“Hell, no,” Cutter said loudly. +“Why should I be? All I'm interested +in is efficiency. Tell me +about efficiency, and I'll know what +you're talking about.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” Bolen said. “We have +no way of knowing right now which +men have been affected more than +others. All we have is an average. +The average right now is eight and +nine-tenths percent. But perhaps +you have some workers who do not +react, because they really do not +suffer the lacks or compulsions or +inhibitions that the Confidet is concerned +with. Perhaps they are working +at top efficiency right now, and +no amount of further subjection to +the Confidet will change them.”</p> + +<p>“All right then,” Cutter said +quickly, “we'll ferret that kind of +deadwood out, and replace them!”</p> + +<p>“How will you know which are +deadwood?” Bolen asked pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Individual checks, of course!”</p> + +<p>Bolen shook his head, looking +back at his tapering fingers. “It +won't necessarily work. You see, +the work that these men are concerned +with is not particularly demanding +work, is it? And that +means you want to strike a balance +between capability and demand. +It's the unbalance of these things +that creates trouble, and in your +case, the demand outweighed the +capability. Now, if you get a total +ten-percent increase, then you're +balanced. If you go over that, you'll +break the balance all over again, +except that you'll have, in certain +cases, capability outweighing the +demand of the work.”</p> + +<p>“Good,” Cutter said. “Any man +whose<!-- Transcriber's note: + original reads "who's" --> capability outweighs the work +he's doing will simply keep increasing +his efficiency.”</p> + +<p>Bolen shook his head. “No. He'll +react quite the other way. He'll lose +interest, because the work will no +longer be a challenge, and then the +efficiency will drop.”</p> + +<p>Cutter's jaw hardened. “All right +then. I'll move that man up, and +fill his place with someone else.”</p> + +<p>Bolen looked at Cutter's eyes, +examined them curiously. “Some +men have a great deal of latent +talent, Mr. Cutter. This talent released—”</p> + +<p>Cutter frowned, studying Bolen +carefully. Then he laughed suddenly. +“You think I might not be able +to handle it?”</p> + +<p>“Well, let's say that you've got +a stable of gentle, quiet mares, and +you turn them suddenly into thoroughbreds. +You have to make allowances +for that, Mr. Cutter. The +same stalls, the same railings, the +same stable boys might not be able +to do the job anymore.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Cutter said, smiling without +humor, “but the <em>owner</em> has +nothing to do with stalls and railings +and stable boys, only in the +sense that they are subsidiary. The +owner is the owner, and if he has +to make a few subsidiary changes, +all right. But nothing really affects +the owner, no matter whether +you've got gentle mares or +<a name="png.011" id="png.011" href="#png.011"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">46</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>thoroughbreds.”</p> + +<p>Bolen nodded, as though he had +expected that exact answer. “You +are a very certain man, aren't you, +Mr. Cutter?”</p> + +<p>“Would I be here, in this office, +heading this company, if I weren't, +Bolen?”</p> + +<p>Bolen smiled.</p> + +<p>Cutter straightened in his chair. +“All right, do we go on? Do we +shoot for the limit?”</p> + +<p>Bolen chose his words carefully. +“I am interested in testing my Confidet, +Mr. Cutter. This is the most +important thing in the world to me. +I don't recommend what you want +to do. But, as long as you'll give +me accurate reports on the effects +of the Confidet, I'll go along with +you. Providing you grant me one +concession.”</p> + +<p>Cutter frowned.</p> + +<p>“I want our written contract +dissolved.”</p> + +<p>Cutter reddened faintly. Nobody +ever demanded anything of him +and got it easily, but his mind +turned over rapidly, judging the +increase in efficiency, the increase +in profits. He would not necessarily +have to stop with administrative +personnel. There were other departments, +too, that could stand a +little sharpening. Finally he +nodded, reluctantly. “All right, +Bolen.”</p> + +<p>Bolen smiled and left quickly, +and Cutter stared at his desk for a +moment, tense. Then, he relaxed +and the hard sternness of his face +softened a bit. He put his finger +on his desk calendar, and looked at +a date Lucile had circled for him. +He grinned, and picked up the telephone, +and dialed.</p> + +<p>“This is George H. Cutter,” he +said to the man who answered. “My +wife's birthday is next Saturday. +Do you remember that antique desk +I bought her last year? Good. Well, +the truth is, she uses it all the time, +so this year I'd like a good chair +to match it. She's just using an occasional +chair right now, and …”</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><span class="drop">L</span><span class="uc">ike everything</span> he gave +her, Mary liked his gift extremely +well, and night after night, +after the birthday, he came home +to find her at the desk, using the +chair, captaining her house and her +servant staff. And the improvement +was noticeable in her, almost from +the first day. Within a month, he +could detect a remarkable change, +and for the first time, since they +had been married, Mary gave a +dinner for thirty people without +crying just before it started.</p> + +<p>There were other changes.</p> + +<p>Quay brought in efficiency report +after efficiency report, and by the +end of three months, they had hit +eighteen and seven-tenths percent +increase. The administrative office +was no longer the dull, listless place +it had been; now it thrived and +hummed like the shop below. Cutter +could see the difference with +his own eyes, and he could particularly +see the differences in certain +individuals.</p> + +<p>Brown and Kennedy showed remarkable +improvement, but it was +really Harry Linden who astonished +Cutter. An individual check showed +a sixty-percent increase by Linden, +and there was a definite change in +the man's looks. He walked differently, +with a quick, virile step, +and the look of his face and eyes +had become strong and alive. He +<a name="png.012" id="png.012" href="#png.012"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">47</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>began appearing early in the morning, +ahead of the starting hour, and +working late, and the only time he +missed any work hours, was one +afternoon, during which, Lucile informed +Cutter, he had appeared in +court for his divorce trial.</p> + +<p>Within a month, Cutter had +fired Stole and Lackter and Grant, +as department heads, and replaced +them with Brown, Kennedy, and +Linden. He had formulated plans +for installation of the Confidets in +the drafting department and the +supply department, and already the +profits of increased efficiency were +beginning to show in the records. +Cutter was full of new enthusiasm +and ambition, and there was only +one thorn in the entire development.</p> + +<p>Quay had resigned.</p> + +<p>Cutter had been startled and +extremely angry, but Quay had +been unperturbed and stubborn. +“I've enjoyed working with you +immensely, George, but my mind +is made up. No hard feelings?”</p> + +<p>Cutter had not even shaken his +hand.</p> + +<p>It had bothered him for days, +and he checked every industrial +company in the area, to see where +Quay had found a better position. +He was highly surprised, when he +learned, finally, that Quay had +purchased a small boat and was +earning his living by carrying fishermen +out onto the Bay. Quay had +also married, four days after his +resignation, and Cutter pushed the +entire thing out of his mind, checking +it off to partial insanity.</p> + +<p>By February of the next year, he +had promoted Harry Linden to +Quay's old job, gotten rid of the +deadwood that showed up so plainly +on the individual checks, and the +total efficiency average had reached +thirty-three percent. His and Mary's +anniversary was on the fourth of +March, and when that day arrived, +he was certain that he had reached +that point where he could expand +to another plant.</p> + +<p>He was about to order her a +mink stole in celebration, but it was +also that day that he was informed +that she was suing him for divorce. +He rushed home, furious, but she +was gone. She had taken her clothes +and jewelry and the second Cadillac. +In fact, all that she had left +of her personal possessions were the +antique desk and chair. When the +trial was over, months later, she +had won enough support to take +her to France, where, he learned, +she purchased a chateau at Cannes.</p> + +<p>He tried to lose himself in his +work, but for the first time in his +life, he had begun to get faintly +worried. It was only a sliver of +worry, but it kept him from going +on with the expansion. Stocks in +the company had turned over at an +amazingly rapid rate, and while it +was still nothing more than intuition +on his part, he began to tighten +up, readying himself to meet +anything.</p> + +<p>The explosion came in July.</p> + +<p>Drindor Products had picked up +forty-nine percent of the stock on +the market, by using secondary +buyers. There had been a leak +somewhere, Cutter realized, that +had told his competitor, Drindor, +the kind of profit he was making. +He knew who it had been instantly, +but before he could fire Harry +Linden, all of his walls crashed +down. Four months before, to put +more <i lang="fr">esprit de corps</i> into Linden, +<a name="png.013" id="png.013" href="#png.013"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">48</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>he had allowed Linden eight shares +of his own stock, intending to pick +it up later from the market. Linden +had coerced with Drindor. Cutter +lost control.</p> + +<p>A board of directors was elected +by Drindor, and Drindor assumed +the presidency by proxy. Harry Linden +took over Cutter's office, as +Vice President In Charge.</p> + +<p>Cutter had wildly ordered Edward +Bolen to remove the Confidets +one week before, but even then he +had known that it was too late, and +the smiling, knowing look on +Bolen's face had infuriated him to +a screaming rage. Bolen remained +undisturbed, and quietly carried +the disks away. Cutter, when he +left his office that final day, moved +slowly, very slowly.</p> + +<p class="noindent tb"><br class="ns" + /><span class="drop">H</span><span class="uc">e brooded</span> for many long +days after that, searching his +mind for a way to counterattack. +He still had enough stock to keep +him comfortable if he lived another +hundred years. But he no longer +had the power, and he thirsted for +that. He turned it around and +around in his brain, trying to figure +out how he could do it, and the one +thing he finally knew, the one certain +thing, was that if he used +enough drive, enough strength, then +he would regain control of the company +he had built with his own +hands and mind.</p> + +<p>He paced the library and the +long living room and the dining +room, and his eyes were lost, until +he saw, through the doorway of the +sewing room, that desk and that +chair, and he remembered he +hadn't done anything about that.</p> + +<p>He paused only briefly, because +he had not lost an ounce of his +ability to make a sudden decision, +and then he removed that disk and +carried it to the library and fitted it +under the cushion of the large, +worn, leather chair.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" />By fall, he had done nothing to +regain control, and he was less +certain of how he should act than +he had been months before. He +kept driving by the plant and looking +at it, but he did so carefully, so +that no one would see him, and he +was surprised to find that, above +all, he didn't want to face Harry +Linden. The memory of the man's +firm look, the sharp, bold eyes, +frightened him, and the knowledge +of his fright crushed him inside. He +wished desperately that Mary were +back with him, and he even wrote +her letters, pleading letters, but they +came back, unopened.</p> + +<p>Finally he went to see Robert +Quay, because Quay was the only +man in his memory whom he somehow +didn't fear talking to. He +found Quay in a small cottage near +the beach. There was a six-day old +infant in a crib in the bedroom, +and Quay's wife was a sparkling-eyed +girl with a smile that made +Cutter feel relatively at ease for the +first time in weeks.</p> + +<p>She politely left them alone, and +Cutter sat there, embarrassed faintly, +but glad to be in Quay's home +and presence. They talked of how +it had been, when Quay was with +the company, and finally Cutter +pushed himself into asking about +it:</p> + +<p>“I've often wondered, Bob, why +you left?”</p> + +<p>Quay blushed slightly, then +grinned. “I might as well admit it. +<a name="png.014" id="png.014" href="#png.014"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">49</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>I got one of those things from +Bolen, and had it installed in my +own chair.”</p> + +<p>Cutter thought about it, surprised. +He cleared his throat. “And +then you quit?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” Quay said. “All my life, +I'd wanted to do just what I'm doing. +But things just came easy to +me, and the opportunities were always +there, and I just never had +the guts to pass anything by. Finally +I did.”</p> + +<p>Quay smiled at him, and Cutter +shifted in his chair. “The Confidet +did that.”</p> + +<p>Cutter nodded.</p> + +<p>It came to him suddenly, something +he'd never suspected until +that moment. There was something +very definitely wrong with what had +happened to him. The Confidet +had affected<!-- Transcriber's note: + original reads "effected" --> everyone but him; +there must have been something +wrong with the one he had been +using. It had worked with Mary, +but hadn't Bolen said something +about the energy being used in +proportion to the demand? Mary +had certainly created a demand. +Bolen said the life of it was indefinite, +but couldn't the energy +have been used up?</p> + +<p>“Ah,” he said carefully, smiling, +to Quay. “You wouldn't have it +around, would you? That Confidet +of yours?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, hell, no,” Quay said. “I +gave it to Bolen a long time ago. +He came around for it, in fact. +Said he had to keep track of all of +them.”</p> + +<p>Cutter left hurriedly, with Quay +and his wife following him to his +car. He drove straight to Bolen's +house.</p> + +<p>Fury built inside of him. All this +time, Bolen had kept track of his +Confidet, the one that Mary had +used, and all this time, he had +known Cutter still had it. Cutter +was furious over the realization that +Bolen had been using him for experimentation, +and also because the +Confidet that he had tried to use +had turned worthless.</p> + +<p>All his hatred, all his anger +churned inside of him like the +heat from shaken coals, but when +he walked up the path to Bolen's +small house, he did so quietly, with +extreme care.</p> + +<p>When he saw Bolen's face in the +doorway, he wanted to strike the +man, but he kept his hands quietly +at his sides; and though he hated +himself for it, he even smiled a +little at the man.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” Bolen smiled, and +he spoke softly, and at the same +time he examined Cutter with +quick, penetrating eyes. “Come in, +Mr. Cutter.”</p> + +<p>Cutter wanted to stand there and +demand another Confidet, a good +one, and not walk inside, politely, +like he did. And he wished that his +voice would come out, quickly, with +the power and hate in it that he +had once been capable of. But for +some reason, he couldn't say a +word.</p> + +<p>Bolen was extremely polite. +“You've been using that Confidet, +haven't you?” He spoke gently, almost +as though he were speaking +to a frightened child.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Cutter managed to say.</p> + +<p>“And what you expected to happen, +didn't. That's what you want +to tell me, isn't it?”</p> + +<p>Cutter's insides quivered with +rage, but he was able only to nod.</p> + +<p>“Would you like to know why?” +<a name="png.015" id="png.015" href="#png.015"><span class="ns">[</span><span + class="pgmark">50</span><span class="ns">] + </span></a>Bolen said.</p> + +<p>Cutter rubbed his damp palms +over his knees. He nodded.</p> + +<p>Bolen smiled, his eyes sparkling. +“Very simple really. It wasn't the +fault of the Confidet so much, Mr. +Cutter, as you. You see, you are a +rare exception. What you are, or +possibly I should say, what you +were, was a complete super ego. +There are very few of those, Mr. +Cutter, in this world, but you happened +to be one of them. A really +absolute, complete super ego, and +the Confidet's effect was simply the +reverse of what it would have been +with anyone else.” Bolen shook his +head, sympathetically, but he didn't +stop smiling, and his eyes didn't +stop their infuriating exploration +of Cutter's face and eyes and hands. +“It's really a shame, because I was +almost certain you were a super +ego, Mr. Cutter. And when you +didn't return that last Confidet, I +somehow felt that you might use +it, after all that nasty business at +the company and all.</p> + +<p>“But while I was fairly certain of +the effects, Mr. Cutter, I wasn't +absolutely <em>sure</em>, you see, and so like +the rest of the experiments, I had +to forget my conscience. I'm really +very sorry.”</p> + +<p>The anger was a wild thing inside +Cutter now, and it made his +hands tremble and sweat, and his +mouth quiver, and he hated the +man in front of him, the man who +was responsible for what had happened +to him, the smiling man with +the soft voice and exploring eyes. +But he didn't say anything, not a +word. He didn't show his anger or +his frustration or his resentment. He +didn't indicate to Bolen a particle +of his inner wildness.</p> + +<p>He didn't have the nerve.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="pg" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Confidence Game, by James McKimmey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONFIDENCE GAME *** + +***** This file should be named 32243-h.htm or 32243-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/4/32243/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, David Wilson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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