THE PRIZE WINNER.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 180, 1 August 1925, Page 29

THE PRIZE WINNER.

(By LUCK WILLIAMS.)

SHORT STOBT, OOMPI^TH.

"I think I might be allowed such a slight exhibition of emotion as a rather shaky hand," said "Tinker" Hayes, when his landlady rebuked him for splashing his egg on the tablecloth.

"You see, I've jußt noticed In this morning's paper that I am winner of the first prize in the Favourite Actresses' Hospital Ballot. It's a matter of £5000."

Then, suggesting to his landlady and fellow boarders, that they looked nicer with their mouths closed, he walked out. The method by which he had conveyed his stunning piece of good fortune was characteristic of "Tink*."

He put on the same dirty old raincoat and caught the usual bus to business. But inwardly "Tinker" was in a turmoil.

The winning of that £5000 meant one thing to him—Elise King, the acknowledged queen of Quilter's offices, where he worked. For one thing, she was the chief's typist, and that alone gaVb her an elevated position. But on top of that she was so pretty and aloof that even visiting directors treated her with a deference that was not without its suspicion of awe. All the male members of the staff simply—well, it was common knowledge that she. turned down invitations for the evening every day of the week.

Admittedly, she had never turned down "Tinker." Never once had he asked her to come out with him. He had never dared. If she was the queen of Quilter's, he was the Court jester, and jesters cannot aspire to queens.

Happy-go-lucky, blundering, and always seeing the comical side of life, his gift for ending up the day with ink on his hands and face had earned for him the nickname "Tinker." Everybody, from the manager down to the office boys, treated him with familiarity.

He loved Elise King, but he hid the fact like a crime. A girl in her position, with all the attentions she had— it was definitely known she had refused Daggers, head of the sales department, and the most handsome and dashing young fellow on the firm —well, he could imagine the merriment should she ever learn of his affection, or even if he suggested taking her out. He, "old Tinker," thankful,to be earning £3 a week! How she would laugh! How the others would roar if they knew of it! So he kept his secret tight.

But "Tinker" with £50.00 might be another proposition.

He had never known how popular he was till he got to the office that morning.

The men slapped him on the back and said, "Good old. Tinker!" and the girls' eyes swam with tenderness as they smiled at him. People who had never condescended to speak tp him before were surprisingly hearty in their congratulations.

He could have been taken out to lunch by nine different people that day, and it was only by deliberate falsehoods that he succeeded in wriggling out of taking Miss Snipe, the firm's amateur vamp, to a dance that evening.

All of this fell on barren soil as far as "Tinker" was concerned. The only congratulations he wanted to hear were those of Elise King, end for a long time she never came near him.

But Fate seemed determined to be kind to him that day. When for the first time he happened to be alone for a few minutes, she came into his office on some business.

"Oh, Mr. Hayes"—she never called him "Tinker"—''l hear jl've got to congratulate you. I'm ever so pleased." "Thanks very much, ™ he mumbled.

She was standing by his desk, smiling. "And what are you going to do with all that money, you lucky man 1"

"Well, I've decided to buy a new pipe, anyway," he replied, gravely. "I don't know- that I've got any farther than that." He was quivering with the nearness of her dainty self. Never before had lie had an opportunity of speaking to her alone. "You see," he went on, for want of something better to say, "money isn't a tremendous lot of use to an old bachelor."

"Isn't it?" she laughed. "Then get married. There are lots of nice girls about."

"Tinker's" heart was suddenly going on top gear. Was that possibly a hint? Hang i)b all! Why not take the plunge here and now?

"Would—would you like £5000?" he asked huskily.

"Rather!" was her laughing reply. "Then—then " He rose clumsily from the desk, and his words came out in a feverish jumble.

"Why not have mine? I mean—well, I'm not much of a fellow, I know, and I would not dare to ask ; you if I—l hadn't been so fortunate as to pick up this. But I—l could make yo.u very comfortable, and^-and——"

"Mr. about?"

Hayes, what are you talking

He gulped. "I—l'm asking you to marry mc."

His glance dropped. In the silence she was eyeing him very steadily, but a little colour had crept'into her face. He would have given all his £5000 to have been swallowed up by the earth at that moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Hayes; but it's quite impossible," he heard her say, in a quiet but deadly voice. He watched her go from the office.

He had been a presumptuous fool, he knew, but, anyway, he had taken his chance like a man. He might have known that such a girl as Elise King would never, at any time, have him, "Tinker," £5000 or no £5000.

Gloom settled on his soul—deep, unutterable gloom. He'd lost all interest in the money now. No good to him. There was only one thing in the world he really wanted, and money was a poor substitute for her.

"Look as though you had lost £5000 instead of won it," complained his fellow workers all the rest of the afternoon.

"Tinker" offered uo explantions. He was too miserable, too humbled. Elise King had not been unkind, but he guessed how she must have laughed at him in her heart. Serve him right for a mad, blundering' ass. Turning down innumerable invitations to come out and "have an evening with mc, old man," he stole away to spend the evening alone. "A gentleman has been here to see you," said his landlady, respectfully, when he got in. "Said he would call again." .. > The gentleman did call again.

"I'm afraid I've an Unpleasant task to perform, Mr. Hayes," he said to the barely-interested "Tinker," "but it's got" to be done. The announcement in the paper this morning that you are the first prize-winner in the Hospital Ballot was not correct, t As you are probably aware, this competition wa" organised for the hospital by a number of ladies—old ladies, I might venture to say—and,

owing to puhlio pressure, things at the end were done in rather a hurry. Exactly what happened no one can say, but your name was put in the advertisement as winner of the first prize when as a matter of fact you have only won a consolation prize. I, as the committee's solicitor, can assure you that every facility will be given you to investigate the truth of this. The committee are sorry for what has occurred, and they would like you to accept an extra £15 with your consolation prize of £10 as a Blight recompense for any inconvenience you may have been caused. The amended list of prize-winners will be published to-morrow."

"Tinker" took an extra long pull at his pipe.

"I see," was all he said. "Send the £25 along, will you?"

He tried to take it philosophically. A man must get accustomed to having his leg pulled—even by Fate. But he did dread the morrow at the office.

' It was even worse than he expected. Everybody at Quilter's had seen the amended advertisement, and if they had been eager to congratulate him previously, they simply rushed round him now to jeer.

"Made a mess of it, haven't you, Tinker? Well, what a man you are?"

He did not see Elise King. He was thankful for that. He knew he would never dare to look her in the face again, and at the back of his brain he saw that the only thing to do now was to leave Quilter's as soon as he could. Life was going to be unbearable otherwise.

He grinned feebly and tried to appear philosophical under it all—"No new pipe now" was his stock phras&—but at the end of the day he was as limp as an unstarched collar. When closing time came, everybody, with a final jeer, left him, and somehow he did not want to go back to his lodgings to meet the derision his fellow boarders must have been storing up all day. The most desirable place in the world to him just then was a desert island—for one.

Opposite the offices was a little teashop -which was much frequented by Quilter's staff, and he went in there. It was a relief to find himself the only occupant. The first thing that caught his eye was the corrected advertisement of the result of the Hospital Ballot. With a groan he thrust the paper under the seat, and looked up to see Elise King, walking into the cafe.

Curse! He remembered now that she came in sometimes for a cup of tea before she caught her train home. Snatching up the paper again he tried to hide behind it. But he was too late.

"Hullo, Mr. Hayes!" she said, coming to his table. "I saw your famous raincoat disappearing through the doorway here as I came out of the office. I want a cup of tea, too."

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, thickly, as she dropped into the seat facing him, and was silent for a time. Heavens! how he wished she would take those pretty, thoughtful eyes' off his suffering, burning face.

She broke the silence at last. "I was so sorry to hear of your disappointment. I think it is a wicked shame."

"It doesn't matter much," murmured "Tinker," with a wry smile. "What you've never had you never miss, you know."

"It is a shame, though. I—l could almost cry when I think of it."

"Some of the fellows in the office have been doing that all day—the asses!" said "Tinker," stiffly. "Don't you start, too."

Her, elbows were on the table, and she studied him reflectively. "You are vexed with mc about yesterday, aren't you?"

He shook his head. "Not a bit. I think you were a very wise girl to turn mc down."

"Yes, I was." Her voice was calm and definite. Suddenly she said, "Tinker, have you thought of asking mc again?"

He looked at her almost resentfully. Then he saw the smile in her eyes, and he knew he must be on his mettle. "I'm the official leg-puller to the firm, Miss King," he said, with an attempt at mock severity,."and I resent anyone else encroaching.jon my province." But his bravado flickered out. "A girl isn't going to accept A poverty-stricken man to-day, having refused him yesterday when he was the proud possessor of £5000."

"That's just it, Tinker," came the quiet voice.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, sitting bolt upright. ' a

"You couldn't ask mc before," she said, "but when you believed you owned £5000 you risked it. You didn't hope I would accept you as you were, but ypu thought I might when you had a lot of money. You didn't believe you could win mc yourself, but you believed money could. In other words, you branded mc as a girl who placed money before everything. Don't you think it was rather insulting? Anyway, hurt."

The deepest crimson surged to "Tinker's" face. "I—l've loved you for months," was all he could blurt out.

"I know that, Tinker," came the soft reply. And she smiled at his consternation.

The last vestige of his philosophical calm had disappeared, and a sudden, horrible fear caught him again. "You you are laughing at mc." There was a short silence. "Yes, I am laughing at you," she admitted.

Then suddenly her hands dropped, her fingers creeping around one of his hands. "But can't you see I'm crying, too? Crying inside mc all the time because you are such a great, stupid, blundering Tinker, so—so awfully blind." And that is how "Tinker" Hayes lost £5000, but still remained a big prizewinner.