Barbara On Her Own

Taranaki Daily News, 14 June 1929, Page 13

Barbara On Her Own

By

EDGAR WALLACE

CHAPTER 111. Mr. Atterman was thin, loose-jointed and lightly dressed. He w’ore hornrimmed glasses, and was anxious to be mistaken for an American. “Why, I’m real glad to see you, Mr. Maber —meet Mr. Hercules Minkey.” Mr. Minkey was small, round-shoul-dered, flat faced. His nose was broad and short, his dark eyes were small and deep. In all the circumstances, his name was unfortunate, But he was what Mr. Atterman would and did call a live wire. Which is another name for a man who disagrees with everybody and finds another way of doing things wrong. “Glad to meet you, Miss Storr. My! I envy you your secretary, Mr. Maber. That’s the one Storr I woufcl like to keep with your Store. Ha! I hope we’ll be able to persuade you to stay right along here, Miss Storr.” Julius was there, eating the end of a pen absent-mindedly. Mr. Lark came a little importantly, nodded familiarly to Mr. Minkey, smiled respectfully at Julius, and took no notice of Barbara. “Now we're all here together,” said Mr. Atterman, “I’ll lay my proposition right down in front of you. Don’t make a note of this, Miss Storr. I’ll tell you where the proceedings start. As I say, we’ve got together.” Barbara was to start at that part of the speech where the price was mentioned. When at last the sum was stated, she was paralysed. She looked at Mr. Maber. He sat with clasped hands'and pursed lips, unmoved. Then she suddenly sprang to her feet. “That is nonsense,” she declared angrily. “A hundred thousand pounds! Why, the freehold is worth nearly that amount.” Mr. Atterman looked hard at her. For the moment she was not the kind of Store that he would like to have bought. Julius was glowering; Mr. Lark was almost articulate in his indignation. “If you’ll allo-w me, young lady, we’ll get right along,” said Mr. Atterman, deliberately. He got right along. Mr. Maber closed his eyes. The Lark closed his eyes, too; probably the last act of loyalty to his employer. “The offer is very small —very small indeed,” murmured Mr. Maber, when his rival had got where lie was getting. Mr. Atterman drew a long breath, put his head on one side and looking at the table, raised his eyebrows. • It meant that he was sorry. “I thought personally—” Mr. Maber looked at Barbara. “Half a million!” said Barbara. “Really, Mr. Maber!” Julius threw the uneaten portion of his pen upon the table. Mr. Lark was making horrified noises. “Perhaps you had better—um content yourself with taking a record,” said Mr. Maber, addressing the girl; and then, with great spirit; “Miss Storr is my confidential secretary—please remember that!” . . - He looked round a little fearfully as though he expected somelfody would assault him for his audacity. Everybody he saw was shrugging except Barbara and Mr. Lark. Mr. Lark would have shrugged, only he didn’t see that the other people were doing it and by the time he started shrugging, the rest of the company (except Barbara and Mr. Maber) were smiling tolerantly. “See here, Mr. Maber, if I may be allowed to speak.” The live wire turned himself sideways to the table. He was not American either; he took his idioms at fourth hand from Mr. Atterman and they

weren’t quite so natural. “This business of yours —you don’t mind me speaking frankly? —is junk,” “How do you epell it?” inquired Barbara, coldly. The Live Wire sparkled viciously in her direction. “Your business is junk and for why? Because to turn this proposition into a profit making —er —” “Proposition,” suggested Barbara. “You gotta spend a hundred thousand pounds." more. . Now take our store —” He took his store and analysed it in all its aspects and bearings. Barbara closed her eyes and dozed. He had that kind of voice. Odd scraps of information — strange technicalities — intruded into her dreams. “Now take overhead charges—we’ll figure it out that an intensive publicity campaign. Every knock’s a boost.” Barbara came to life as Mr. Atterman "was saying “good-bye.” “Well, it hasn’t got to the lawyer stage, but I think we’ve made progress. I’m not going to kick over twenty thousand one way or the other.” As he left the board room, he caught the eye of Mr. Julius Colesberg, and that gentleman followed him into the corridor. “Who’s the fresh kid, Julius?” he asked wrathfully. “Get on to the old man, for the love of Mike, and tip him off that I’m not the sort of guy to stand for a fresh stenographer butting into my business.” “Sure,” said Julius. ‘l’ll go up to a hundred and twenty thousand. Stock at valuation, and the goodwill is worth about ten cents. I’ll have the contract ready on Monday — fix the meeting and bring along your lawyer.” He gave Julius a cigar, and Julius, who did not smoke cigars, tried to look pleased. Almost immediately after the meeting Mr. Maber went out to lunch. He went hurriedly, guiltily, and did not return until late. lyhen he returned lie deposited the massive catalogue of Messrs. Carper and Suthern, and talked about laying out a new rose garden. She groaned, “The truth is, Barbara, I want quiet and peace. Why should I bother about business? I have an enormous lot of money—in fact, I have so much that I intend dividing half the sum I receive from this sale among the employers of Maber and Maber. Why should I slave and fret in a business which is wholly uncongenial? What do I know of ladies’ outfitting? What interest have I in—well, whatever we sell? Why should I grow agitated with the fluctuations of foulard and gyrations ot georgette? It is a wholly indelicate occupation for a man who is—er—an Old Blue, and whose tendencies are toward tho study of ecclesiastical law. By the way, Barbara, you might ring up the Trocadero and tell them that I wish nothing but light blue flowers for the table decoration to-morrow night. Would you like to see the boat race, Barbara? I can find you a place on the Leander

launch, and I’d like you to meet my old friend, Marcus; we were at Cambridge together in ’B4 — that’s a long time ago.” “Would nothing induce you to keep this business in your hands?” she asked desperately. Mr. Maber looked dubious. “We show tin increasing loss. Julius Colesberg is a young man full of fire and energy, yet he can do nothing. New blood, my dear —that is what we require.” She sighed heavily. “Julius Colesberg!” Mr. Maber shifted uncomfortably. He did not like his partner, but had admitted him to a share in the business on very favourable terms because he entertained the secret hope that Julius would supply the energy 7 and enthusiasm which he, as an older man, lacked. Julius was to be the live wire. (Mr. Maber, who had no idea that wires could live, referred to him as an “energising factor.”) As a driving force, Julius was not a complete success. He had cast his bread upon the waters of Maber and Maber in the confident belief that it would return in the form of buttered toast. He was ornamental to a point; his manicurist told him that he had the most beautiful hands she had ever seen. Almost every man she told , this was pleased. Julius purred. “Well —I’ll be better out of it. The stress of competition, the vulgar pushing and bawling in the market place, the hustle and bustle of it all, are distasteful to me.” He went homo early, and, Barbara, miserable at heart, loafed round the departments. The news of the impending sale had Hashed from the laces to the silks, from the ribbons to the stockings. Young goddesses in black saw her wandering disconsolately and arched theii’ eyebrows. Floorwalkers in immaculate frock eoats were guardedly polite, knowing something of the feud that existed between the Colesberg-Lark section and the lady who was popularly supposed to dominate the boss; for how did they know that too great effusiveness on their part might not lead to their undoing if the old man went! At the same time, an attitude leaning towards silliness might a« easily bring them to destruction if the sale fell through. (To bo continued.)