When Jimmy arrived at Mr. Pett's office on Pine Street atten-thirty the next morning--his expressed intention of gettingup early enough to be there by nine having proved an emptyboast--he was in a high state of preparedness. He had made readyfor what might be a trying interview by substituting acombination of well-chosen dishes at an expensive hotel for theless imaginative boarding-house breakfast with which he had oflate been insulting his interior. His suit was pressed, his shoesgleamed brightly, and his chin was smoothly shaven. These things,combined with the perfection of the morning and that vagueexhilaration which a fine day in down-town New York brings to theman who has not got to work, increased his natural optimism.
Something seemed to tell him that all would he well. He wouldhave been the last person to deny that his position was a littlecomplicated--he had to use a pencil and a sheet of paper to showhimself just where he stood--but what of that? A fewcomplications in life are an excellent tonic for the brain. Itwas with a sunny geniality which startled that unaccustomedstripling considerably--and indeed caused him to swallow hischewing gum--that he handed in his card to Mr. Pett's watchfullywaiting office-boy.
"This to the boss, my open-faced lad!" he said. "Get swiftly offthe mark."The boy departed dumbly.
From where he stood, outside the barrier which separated visitorsto the office from the workers within, Jimmy could see a vista ofefficient-looking young men with paper protectors round theircuffs working away at mysterious jobs which seemed to involve theuse of a great deal of paper. One in particular was so surroundedby it that he had the appearance of a bather in surf. Jimmy eyedthese toilers with a comfortable and kindly eye. All thisindustry made him feel happy. He liked to think of this sort ofthing going on all round him.
The office-boy returned. "This way, please."The respectfulness of the lad's manner had increased noticeably.
Mr. Pett's reception of the visitor's name had impressed him. Itwas an odd fact that the financier, a cipher in his own home,could impress all sorts of people at the office.
To Mr. Pett, the announcement that Mr. James Crocker was waitingto see him had come like the announcement of a miracle. Not a dayhad passed since their return to America without lamentationsfrom Mrs. Pett on the subject of their failure to secure theyoung man's person. The occasion of Mrs. Pett's reading of thearticle in the _Sunday Chronicle_ descriptive of the Lord PercyWhipple affair had been unique in the little man's domestichistory. For the first time since he had known her theindomitable woman had completely broken down. Of all sad words oftongue or pen the saddest are these "It might have been!" and thethought that, if she had only happened to know it, she had had inher hands during that interview with her sister in London aweapon which would have turned defeat into triumph was more thaneven Mrs. Pett's strong spirit could endure. When she looked backon that scene and recalled the airy way in which Mrs. Crocker hadspoken of her step-son's "best friend, Lord Percy Whipple" andrealised that at that very moment Lord Percy had been recoveringin bed from the effects of his first meeting with Jimmy Crocker,the iron entered into her soul and she refused to be comforted.
In the first instant of realisation she thought of six separateand distinct things she could have said to her sister, each morecrushing than the last--things which now she would never be ableto say.
And now, suddenly and unaccountably, the means was at hand forrestoring her to her tranquil self-esteem. Jimmy Crocker, despitewhat his stepmother had said, probably in active defiance of hercommands, had come to America after all. Mr. Pett's first thoughtwas that his wife would, as he expressed it to himself, be"tickled to death about this." Scarcely waiting for theoffice-boy to retire, he leaped towards Jimmy like a gambollinglamb and slapped him on the back with every evidence of joy andfriendliness.
"My dear boy!" he cried. "My dear boy! I'm delighted to see you!"Jimmy was surprised, relieved, and pleased. He had not expectedthis warmth. A civil coldness had been the best he had lookedfor. He had been given to understand that in the Pett home he wasregarded as the black sheep: and, while one may admit a blacksheep into the fold, it does not follow that one must ofnecessity fawn upon him.
"You're very kind," he said, rather startled.
They inspected each other for a brief moment. Mr. Pett wasthinking that Jimmy was a great improvement on the picture hisimagination had drawn of him. He had looked for somethingtougher, something flashy and bloated. Jimmy, for his part, hadtaken an instant liking to the financier. He, too, had beenmisled by imagination. He had always supposed that thesemillionaires down Wall Street way were keen, aggressive fellows,with gimlet eyes and sharp tongues. On the boat he had only seenMr. Pett from afar, and had had no means of estimating hischaracter. He found him an agreeable little man.
"We had given up all hope of your coming," said Mr. Pett.
A little manly penitence seemed to Jimmy to be in order.
"I never expected you would receive me like this. I thought Imust have made myself rather unpopular."Mr. Pett buried the past with a gesture.
"When did you land?" he asked.
"This morning. On the _Caronia_ . . .""Good passage?""Excellent."There was a silence. It seemed to Jimmy that Mr. Pett was lookingat him rather more closely than was necessary for the actualenjoyment of his style of beauty. He was just about to throw outsome light remark about the health of Mrs. Pett or somethingabout porpoises on the voyage to add local colour andverisimilitude, when his heart missed a beat, as he perceivedthat he had made a blunder. Like many other amateur plotters, Annand he had made the mistake of being too elaborate. It had struckthem as an ingenious idea for Jimmy to pretend that he hadarrived that morning, and superficially it was a good idea: buthe now remembered for the first time that, if he had seen Mr.
Pett on the _Atlantic_, the probability was that Mr. Pett had seenhim. The next moment the other had confirmed this suspicion.
"I've an idea I've seen you before. Can't think where.""Everybody well at home?" said Jimmy.
"I'm sure of it.""I'm looking forward to seeing them all.""I've seen you some place.""I'm often there.""Eh?"Mr. Pett seemed to be turning this remark over in his mind atrifle suspiciously. Jimmy changed the subject.
"To a young man like myself," he said, "with life opening outbefore him, there is something singularly stimulating in thesight of a modern office. How busy those fellows seem!""Yes," said Mr. Pett. "Yes." He was glad that this conversationalnote had been struck. He was anxious to discuss the future withthis young man.
"Everybody works but father!" said Jimmy.
Mr. Pett started.
"Eh?""Nothing."Mr. Pett was vaguely ruffled. He suspected insult, but could notpin it down. He abandoned his cheeriness, however, and became theman of business.
"I hope you intend to settle down, now that you are here, andwork hard," he said in the voice which he vainly tried to use onOgden at home.
"Work!" said Jimmy blankly.
"I shall be able to make a place for you in my office. That wasmy promise to your step-mother, and I shall fulfil it.""But wait a minute! I don't get this! Do you mean to put me towork?""Of course. I take it that that was why you came over here,because you realised how you were wasting your life and wanted achance of making good in my office."A hot denial trembled on Jimmy's tongue. Never had he been somisjudged. And then the thought of Ann checked him. He must donothing that would interfere with Ann's plans. Whatever the cost,he must conciliate this little man. For a moment he musedsentimentally on Ann. He hoped she would understand what he wasgoing through for her sake. To a man with his ingrained distastefor work in any shape the sight of those wage-slaves outsidethere in the outer office had, as he had told Mr. Pett, beenstimulating: but only because it filled him with a sort ofspiritual uplift to think that he had not got to do that sort ofthing. Consider them in the light of fellow-workers, and thespectacle ceased to stimulate and became nauseating. And for hersake he was about to become one of them! Had any knight of oldever done anything as big as that for his lady? He very muchdoubted it.
"All right," he said. "Count me in. I take it that I shall have ajob like one of those out there?""Yes.""Not presuming to dictate, I suggest that you give me somethingthat will take some of the work off that fellow who's swimming inpaper. Only the tip of his nose was above the surface as I passedthrough. I never saw so many fellows working so hard at the sametime in my life. All trying to catch the boss's eye, too, Isuppose? It must make you feel like a snipe."Mr. Pett replied stiffly. He disliked this levity on the sacredsubject of office work. He considered that Jimmy was notapproaching his new life in the proper spirit. Many young men haddiscussed with him in that room the subject of working in hisemployment, but none in quite the same manner.
"You are at a serious point in your career," he said. "You willhave every opportunity of rising.""Yes. At seven in the morning, I suppose?""A spirit of levity--" began Mr. Pett.
"I laugh that I may not weep," explained Jimmy. "Try to thinkwhat this means to a bright young man who loathes work. Be kindto me. Instruct your floor-walkers to speak gently to me atfirst. It may be a far, far better thing that I do than I haveever done, but don't ask me to enjoy it! It's all right for you.
You're the boss. Any time you want to call it a day and go offand watch a ball-game, all you have to do is to leave word thatyou have an urgent date to see Mr. Rockerfeller. Whereas I shallhave to submerge myself in paper and only come up for air whenthe danger of suffocation becomes too great."It may have been the mention of his favourite game that softenedMr. Pett. The frostiness which had crept into his manner thawed.
"It beats me," he said, "why you ever came over at all, if youfeel like that.""Duty!" said Jimmy. "Duty! There comes a time in the life ofevery man when he must choose between what is pleasant and whatis right.""And that last fool-game of yours, that Lord Percy Whipplebusiness, must have made London pretty hot for you?" suggestedMr. Pett.
"Your explanation is less romantic than mine, but there issomething in what you say.""Had it occurred to you, young man, that I am taking a chanceputting a fellow like you to work in my office?""Have no fear. The little bit of work I shall do won't make anydifference.""I've half a mind to send you straight back to London.""Couldn't we compromise?""How?""Well, haven't you some snug secretarial job you could put meinto? I have an idea that I should make an ideal secretary.""My secretaries work.""I get you. Cancel the suggestion."Mr. Pett rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"You puzzle me. And that's the truth.""Always speak the truth," said Jimmy approvingly.
"I'm darned if I know what to do with you. Well, you'd bettercome home with me now, anyway, and meet your aunt, and then wecan talk things over. After all, the main thing is to keep youout of mischief.""You put things crudely, but no doubt you are right.""You'll live with us, of course.""Thank you very much. This is the right spirit.""I'll have to talk to Nesta about you. There may he something youcan do.""I shouldn't mind being a partner," suggested Jimmy helpfully.
"Why don't you get work on a paper again? You used to do thatwell.""I don't think my old paper would welcome me now. They regard merather as an entertaining news-item than a worker.""That's true. Say, why on earth did you make such a fool ofyourself over on the other side? That breach-of-promise case withthe barmaid!" said Mr. Pett reproachfully.
"Let bygones be bygones," said Jimmy. "I was more sinned againstthan sinning. You know how it is, uncle Pete!" Mr. Pett startedviolently, but said nothing. "You try out of pure goodness ofheart to scatter light and sweetness and protect the poorworking-girl--like Heaven--and brighten up her lot and so on, andshe turns right around and soaks it to you good! And anyway shewasn't a barmaid. She worked in a florist's shop.""I don't see that that makes any difference.""All the difference in the world, all the difference between thesordid and the poetical. I don't know if you have everexperienced the hypnotic intoxication of a florist's shop? Takeit from me, uncle Pete, any girl can look an angel as long as sheis surrounded by choice blooms. I couldn't help myself. I wasn'tresponsible. I only woke up when I met her outside. But all thatsort of thing is different now. I am another man. Sober, steady,serious-minded!"Mr. Pett had taken the receiver from the telephone and wastalking to some one. The buzzing of a feminine voice came toJimmy's ears. Mr. Pett hung up the receiver.
"Your aunt says we are to come up at once.""I'm ready. And it will be a good excuse for you to knock offwork. I bet you're glad I came! Does the carriage await or shallwe take the subway?""I guess it will be quicker to take the subway. Your aunt's verysurprised that you are here, and very pleased.""I'm making everybody happy to-day."Mr. Pett was looking at him in a meditative way. Jimmy caught hiseye.
"You're registering something, uncle Pete, and I don't know whatit is. Why the glance?""I was just thinking of something.""Jimmy," prompted his nephew.
"Eh?""Add the word Jimmy to your remarks. It will help me to feel athome and enable me to overcome my shyness."Mr. Pett chuckled.
"Shyness! If I had your nerve--!" He broke off with a sigh andlooked at Jimmy affectionately. "What I was thinking was thatyou're a good boy. At least, you're not, but you're differentfrom that gang of--of--that crowd up-town.""What crowd?""Your aunt is literary, you know. She's filled the house withpoets and that sort of thing. It will be a treat having youaround. You're human! I don't see that we're going to make muchof you now that you're here, but I'm darned glad you've come,Jimmy!""Put it there, uncle Pete!" said Jimmy. "You're all right.
You're the finest Captain of Industry I ever met!"
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