Confidence Game Part 2

The increase _was_ 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.

"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."

Cutter nodded, his eyes thinning the slightest bit. "We won't see that for a while."

"No," Quay said, "but we'll see it! We'll sure as h.e.l.l see it! And if it goes much higher, we'll absolutely balance out!"

"What does Bolen figure the top to be?"

"Ten percent."

"Why not thirty-six point eight?" Cutter said, his eyes bright and narrow.

Quay whistled. "Even at ten, at the wage we're paying--"

"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 G.o.dd.a.m.ned sweet morning, what do you say we go to lunch early?"

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."

Bolen appeared in Cutter's office the next morning, smiling, his eyes darting quickly about Cutter's desk and walls, so that Cutter felt, for a moment, that showing Bolen anything as personal as his office, was a little like letting the man look into his brain.

"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.

Bolen smiled, examining Cutter's hands and suit and eyes. "That's right, Mr. Cutter."

"Why?"

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."

"How in h.e.l.l could ten percent more efficiency turn into saturation?"

"Not ten percent more efficiency," Bolen said quietly. "Ten percent _effect_ on the individual who _creates_ the efficiency. Ten percent effect of that which _causes_ him to be ten percent more efficient."

Cutter snorted. "Whatever the h.e.l.l that d.a.m.ned gimmick does, it creates confidence, drive, strength, doesn't it? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes," Bolen said politely. "Approximately."

"Can you explain to me then, how ten percent more confidence in a man is saturation?"

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?"

"h.e.l.l, 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."

"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."

"All right then," Cutter said quickly, "we'll ferret that kind of deadwood out, and replace them!"

"How will you know which are deadwood?" Bolen asked pleasantly.

"Individual checks, of course!"

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."

"Good," Cutter said. "Any man whose capability outweighs the work he's doing will simply keep increasing his efficiency."

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."

Cutter's jaw hardened. "All right then. I'll move that man up, and fill his place with someone else."

Bolen looked at Cutter's eyes, examined them curiously. "Some men have a great deal of latent talent, Mr. Cutter. This talent released--"

Cutter frowned, studying Bolen carefully. Then he laughed suddenly. "You think I might not be able to handle it?"

"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."

"Yes," Cutter said, smiling without humor, "but the _owner_ 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 thoroughbreds."

Bolen nodded, as though he had expected that exact answer. "You are a very certain man, aren't you, Mr. Cutter?"

"Would I be here, in this office, heading this company, if I weren't, Bolen?"

Bolen smiled.

Cutter straightened in his chair. "All right, do we go on? Do we shoot for the limit?"

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."

Cutter frowned.

"I want our written contract dissolved."

Cutter reddened faintly. n.o.body 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."

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.

"This is George H. Cutter," he said to the man who answered. "My wife's birthday is next Sat.u.r.day. 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..."

Like everything 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.