Shorty McCabe on the Job - BestLightNovel.com
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"Alvin," says I, "it's some education to travel with you."
"I'm a clumsy a.s.s!" says he. "Poor wretch! I could think of nothing sensible to do for her. Let's say no more about it. I must get that suitcase from the baggage room."
He greets the grumpy checkroom tyrant like a friend and brother, and has just slipped him a cigar when a husky-built square-jawed gent steps up behind and taps Alvin familiar on the shoulder.
Alvin's jaw sags disappointed for a second as he turns; but he recovers quick and gives the cheerful hail. "Oh, it's you, is it, Scully?" says he. "I thought I'd given you the slip completely this time. Hope I haven't made you a lot of trouble."
"Not a bit, Mr. Barton," says Scully. "You know it's a change for us, Sir, getting out this way, with all expenses paid. They sent Talcott with me, Sir."
"Fine!" says Alvin. "Of course I like them all; but I'm glad it happened to be you and Talcott this trip."
"Hope you're ready to go back, Sir," says Scully.
"Oh, quite," says Alvin. "I've had a bully good time; but I'm getting a little tired. And, by the way, please remember to have the doctor send fifteen dollars to my friend McCabe here. You explain, will you, Scully?"
Scully does. "From Dr. Slade's Restorium," says he, noddin' at Alvin and tappin' his forehead. "Quite a harmless gentleman, Sir."
"Eh?" says I, turnin' to Alvin. "You from a nut factory? Good night!"
"It's a whim of Uncle's," says Alvin, chucklin'. "He's gone a little cracked over making and saving money. Poor old chap! Ego developed most abnormally. But the Judge he took me before was that kind too; so I am compelled to live with Dr. Slade. Jolly crowd up there, though. Come along, Scully; we mustn't be late for dinner."
And off he goes, smilin' contented and friendly at anyone who happens to look his way. Wouldn't that crimp you?
Course, my first move after gettin' back to the studio was to dig that check of his out of the safe and query the bank. "No account here," the clerk 'phones back prompt, and I could see the Universal Liquid Container Company takin' a final plunge down the coal chute.
For days, though, I put off callin' the bunch together and announcin'
the sad fact. More'n a week went by, and I was still dreadin' to do it.
Then here this mornin' in romps young Blair Woodbury, his eyes sparklin'
and a broad grin on his face. He's flouris.h.i.+n' a bundle about the size of a two weeks' fam'ly wash, and as he sees me he lets out a joy yelp.
"Well, why the riot?" says I. "What you got there?"
"Containers!" says he. "Old Nevins has got the compressor working. Sixty seconds to make these, my boy--two hundred in one minute! Count 'em!"
"I'll take your word for it," says I. "That's fine, too. But I'm carryin' all the comp'ny stock I can stand. Go out and convince some other come-ons."
"I don't have to," says he. "Why, during the last four days the issue has been oversubscribed. It was getting that Mr. Barton, of Pratt & Barton, on our list that turned the trick."
"Alvin!" I gasps. "Why--why, he's only a batty nephew, that they keep under guard. Bughouse, you know. His check's no good."
"Doesn't matter in the least," says Blair. "He made good bait. We're established, I tell you! Get the board together, and we'll let the contracts for the factory. And then--well, McCabe, if our stock doesn't hit one hundred and fifty inside of six months, I--I'll eat every one of these!"
And, say, allowin' for all his extra enthusiasm, it looks like we stood to win. I expect the other directors'll be some jarred, though, when they hear about Alvin. I started in to break it to Swifty Joe.
"By the way, Swifty," says I, "you remember that Barton party who was in here one day?"
"_Mister_ Barton," says he reprovin'. "Say, he was a reg'lar guy, he was!"
"Think so?" says I.
"Think!" explodes Swifty indignant. "Ahr-r-r chee! Why, say, any bonehead could see he was a real' gent to the last tap of the gong."
And, say, I didn't have the heart to break the spell. For, after all, admittin' the state of his belfry, I don't know that many of us has so much on Alvin, at that.
THE END
MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS
LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.
A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old fas.h.i.+oned love stories, * * * a rare book, exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, of delightful humor and spontaneity.
A SPINNER IN THE SUN.
Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in which poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever and entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always displays a quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos which give a touch of active realism to all her writings. In "A Spinner in the Sun"
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THE MASTER'S VIOLIN.
A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine "Cremona." He consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an apt.i.tude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American and he cannot, with his meagre past, express the love, the pa.s.sion and the tragedies of life and all its happy phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his life--a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her heart and home, and through his pa.s.sionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes.
Founded on a fact that all artists realize.
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WITHIN THE LAW. By Bayard Veiller & Marvin Dana.
Ill.u.s.trated by Wm. Charles Cooke.
This is a novelization of the immensely successful play which ran for two years in New York and Chicago.
The plot of this powerful novel is of a young woman's revenge directed against her employer who allowed her to be sent to prison for three years on a charge of theft, of which she was innocent.
WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY. By Robert Carlton Brown.
Ill.u.s.trated with scenes from the play.
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