A “Con” Contretemps

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 18, 6 May 1905, Page 6

A “Con” Contretemps

The Story of a Slow Touch stnd a Quick Get Away

By

Kenneth Harris

YOU don’t need to tell me that hick don't beat brains,” said Honest John, a melancholy smile on his open and ingenuous countenance; ‘*l know better. I've got all the brain 1 need in my business, but my luck is right out. Here's Cockeyed Davis, with no more intelligence than a can of clam chowder, goes out on Saturday night with a pig of iron nipped from the foundry yard, and decorated with radiator gold paint, and conies back with enough long green to paper the front parlour. That’s what. 1 sit down and evolve some original plan for the relief of the bundle-bearing —something neat* artistic. and plausible, fresh,, whiskerless and inviting, and my luck backs me against the ropes and puts it all over me when I try to carry it out. Sometimes 1 think a man might just as well plug along in the same old rut and never try to be a credit to his profession?' Honest John shook his head sadly, and delicately removing a speck of dust from his immaculate linen with a flick of his long white linger, continued. in the low and exquisitely modulated voice that was one of his most valuable assets: "Last week 1 got into a street car. It was jammed light ami hard- and if I had wanted to lower myself 1 could have made a touch or two without any trouble. I’ve got too much selfrespect for that, though. It's all very well for a kid. or a man who hasn’t any capacity for headwork, to sink his hooks into wearing apparel: but I’ve got a reputation to sustain. There wa* a diamond locket that looked like the real goods, and the bulge of a watch pressing into my side and causing me real inconvenience, but 1 never attempted to remove either one. Not me. 1 doubt whether I'd have touched them if I had known the stones were all right and the watch eighteen carat. "Well, at Eighteenth-street an old gent got on the car and squeezed through to the straphangers. He was a prosperous-looking old stiff, but grouchy in his manner. A young fellow who had got in on the first rush and grabbed a seat got up and offered it to the patriarch. Think he got any thanks for itS Not at all. His Whiskers just plunked himself down on the carpet upholstery as if he was entitled to it and anything else he happened to fancy, and pulling out an evening paper, began to entertain himself. The young man seemed to take it as a matter of course, but I was willing to bet that he was mad. “I reflected on the incident. I’m of a reflective turn of mind, and when 1 ponder I generally turn my ponderings to account some way. It occurred to me that the old gent was one born to threaten and command—also to grab for what In* wanted without any consideration of the convenience or the feeling of anybody else. That being the case, he was probably sinfully rich. As for the young man. it was equally plain that he was of the genus suckeran amiable sucker, perhaps but a sucker 'till. 1 seemed to smell blood every time the front door opened and the wind blew in from him to me. He was my diet, undoubtedly. But how was 1 to get at him ? ‘‘Here’s where brains count. At Thirty tir-t street there was a grand get off. My natural prey got off. The elderly hog also alighted. I kept right on. I was dm* farther on. I didn't want to make myself too conspicuous. cither. I had formulated a little plan. I still have an office, or. rather, an interest in one. Frankfurter St<*ggs. Headlight Johnson, ami a few more of us. the elect, have an office be tween us. Sometimes it's one place and sometimes another, but it's always temporary. Frankfurter had just clear

<‘d off a get-rich quick novelty agency in it, and Suds Montgomery was holding it down, with Winsome Winnie in the role of stenographer, while he sold some half interests in a mine 1 owned. My name was Miguel Saltero —you may have sc-en it—and I was in from Mexico. But that isn’t here nor there. "1 went down and put an ad. in the paper: If the young man in the light overcoat and dotted blue necktie, who gave his seat to an elderly gentleman in the Indiana Avenue car on the night of November 20, will call at Suite 49, Boractc Block, he will hear something to h’s ad vantage. "Did he bite? What are suckers for? Why, he jerked my arm oil’, in a manner of speaking. It was 1:01 p.m. when there was a modest rap at the door of suite 49. and 1 heard Winnie say she'd see if 1 was engaged. Next moment she showed in my courteous young friend and went back to thump the everlasting gizzard out of the typewriter. She’s a p aeb. is Winnie! "I motioned him. in my best business manner, to a seat—no glad-hand work of a coarse nature. Then I said, ‘You have called in answer to my advertisement ?' "‘Yes, sir.* he replied: ‘1 think per haps I am the man you want.’ ” ‘You answer my client’s description exactly.' 1 said: I think there cm be no mistake about it. Still, it is well to be certain. You were on an Indiana Avenue car the night before last at about halfqmst eight. were you not? And you chivalrously offered your seat to an old man?’ “ ‘1 don't know about the chivalrous part.’ he said: ‘but I gave up mv s at, all right.’ ‘‘*l rejoice to sec that you are modest.’ I said. ‘1 have no doubt that it seemed to you a perfectly natural action in no wisp remarkable or deserving of especial credit, yet. believe me. such consideration for age is rare, and when met with should In? recognised. That is the view my client takes of it.’ “‘Who is your client?’ he asked, and somehow, from the snappy way he asked the question. I had a faint, dawning suspicion that he wasnt' precisely the pudding my fancy had painted him: yet. as T gazed on his fine, boyish countenance. 1 dismissed the thought as un worthy of me. Suspicion is not a thing that T have ever felt I could afford to entertain. T operate on the theory that very man has a jay streak except me. and I win ninety-nine times out of • very hundred. If I thought my fellowcreatures were taking advantage of my ignorance to eon mo. how long do you reckon I’d stay in the profession? No. sir: the guy who is all the time looking for the worst of it gets it. “ ‘l'm sorry that I'm unable to satisfy your natural curiosity.' 1 said. ‘My client is an eccentric man. He has the reputation of being a hard man among his business associates, and it Is p< ssible that the reputation has contributed to his business success very largely. In any case ho is careful to do nothing op -.t ly that would alter the—er—rather hard judgment the world passed on him. Do you understand me?' “ ‘1 think I do.' he said. “‘As the po t remarks, hi? “does good by stealth and blushes to find it fame?*’’ 1 continued. ‘A man of rather forbid ding exterior, as you may have noticed, and of brusque manners, he has yet a wealth of kindliness, and a generosity that almost amounts to prodigality.’ “‘l'm glad to hear you speak so well of him.” said the young man. ‘You must know him well.’ “ ‘1 know him as few do.' I declared. ‘For years he has made me the instrument of hi® secret benefactions. Why. young man.’ I cried in a burst of enthusiasm, ‘if the world only knew the hap

piness James I*. Tapeticker has conferred on the poor but deserving men and women whose necessities have been brought under his notice it would have a different opinion of him.’ “■James I*. Tapeticker!’ repeated my j oung friend thoughtfully. “ ’Pshaw!’ 1 said; ‘l’ve let the eat out of the bag now with a vengeance. Well, well! 1 don’t see what 1 could have been thinking about. 1 wouldn’t hav had that happen for anything. James would never forgive me if he knew 1 had been so careless. 1 wasn’t cut out for a diplomat, and that’s a fact. Perhaps, though,’ I added, ’you recognized Mr. Tapetieker before you gave up your seat to him?’ “ ‘lf I had,’ lie said earnestly, ‘I wouldn't have expected any gratitude from him. Do you think I could have?' “ ’No,’ 1 answered. ‘Pray forgive th" question; but. whatever you do. don’t mention the faet that 1 inadvertently disclosed his identity. lie’s so sensitive on that point that I know he would instantly reconsider the idea of reward ing your kindness. T should regret that.’’

“ 'So should I,’ said the young man quite fervently, and with a sparkle of cupidity in his eyes. “ ‘I think it would lx? better, in fact, not to mention the matter to any one.' I suggested. Then 1 pulled a tablet toward him and asked him to write his name and address. He wrote: ‘Henry B. Jones, 6315 Wichita Avenue.’ “ ‘What is vour business. Mr. Jones?' I asked. “ ‘l’m a clerk.’ he replied. “‘Not highly salaried, 1 presume? Clerks sledom are.’ “ ‘£3 a week.” he answered. “‘Oil!’ I said blandly. ’1 don't suppose you would object to waking up some fine morning and finding yourself the posses sor of—say £1000?'’ “'The expression on his face was suf fieient reply. “ ‘Your habits are good, 1 take it for granted.’ 1 went on. You’re not a spendthrift. I hope? Air. Tapetieker has a horror of that quality in youth. Do you save?’ “ ‘l've nearly £4O in the bank.’ he said rather boastfully. ‘lf 1 had £IOOO I’d invest it in a busin ss of my own.' “‘Good!’ I said with a benevolent smile. ‘Well. Mr. Jones, I’m very glad to have met you. indeed, and you will hear from me again.’ “I pushed back my ehair, intimating that the meeting stood adjourn d. but he lingered. T sort of thought he would. “ ‘Do you think he will really make nt ■ a present of £1000?’ he asked anxious-

" ‘lt’s possible that it may be more,’ 1 said. ‘lf you ri ally want to know, I'll tell you what Mr. Tapeticker’s intention is. He will ask you, through me, of course, if you would like to have him invest your little savings for you. He takes this method ir« order that his beneficiaries may preserve their self-respect in a manner that they could hardly do, perhaps, if he made them an outright, downright gift of so much money. It amounts to the same thing in the end. of course. I’ve known him to take £2OO from an invalid scrub woman in whom he was interest: d, and within two days send the poor creature a cheque for £2OO. With his control of the market, and his intimate knowledge of stocks, it was not a difficult thing to do.’ “‘1 should say not,’ said Mr. Jones; ‘from some of the deals he’s been making lately. I should judge lie might have made it £4OO just as easy. He's a won der! It seems to me I’tp in luck.’ “ ‘You deserve it.’ 1 told him. Well. I’ll say good-day to you.’ ’“Wlrn shall I hear from you?' he asked. ‘Or shall I call? Perhaps I’d better draw my money out of the bank and bring it with me.’ " Well, it wouldn’t hurt,’ I said indifferently. ‘Could you look in next week some time?’ "'I could look in to-morrow, if you il be in,’ he eag.rly replied. “ ‘l’m always in,’ 1 said. ’Say tomorrow morning then.’ “I almost had to turn him out of the office. Hi? was so keen that I half expected him to propose rushing over to the bank there and then to get his-little wad. He didn’t, though. “As soon as he had gone I lit a cigar and gave myself up to golden dreams. If this thing panned out the way it promised I could see myself taking a longdesir d trip to New Orleans. I never was much stuck on Chicago as a winter resort: everything gets worked to death. “It was nearly noon the next day before he wafted lightly in. I had begun to think that a cog had slipped somewlrre in the works, and I was setting nervous. He seemed anxious himself. They had kept him hard at it in the office, and lie had not had time to get over to the bank. He thought he would run in and tell me as he happened to be passing on an errand overon the West Side. He hoped that it would not make any difference. “ ‘Not the least.’ I replied. ‘Just take your time. By the way. it occurred to me after you had left that a young man like you with no bad habits and an ambition to succeed should have put by more than £4O out of a salary of 15 dollars per week. I’m not criticising you. yon know. I was thinking more of the effect of my report upon Mr Tapeticker. He began life by saving two thirds of his wages. He paid 4/6 a week for the rent of his room, and allowed himself 10/ for food. He is rather proud of the circumstance, and often deplores the extravagance of the rising generation and its lack of thrift.’ "Henrv looked somewhat flabbergasted. " ‘Don't mind it.’ I said with cheerful reassurance. ‘Of course, if you could have turned over two or three times the amount to him it might make a proportionate increase in the amount you would realise. But you will have no occasion to complain.' “He was thoughtful for a few moments. " Do you mean if I had £BO or £lOO 1 would get twice as much?’ he stam mined in an embarrased wav. ' \ i rv likely.' I said; ‘in fact, more than likely.’ “ Perhaps.’ he said. ‘I might—’ Then he stopped. ’Would it matter if I—if 1 got £4O or so somewhere else?’ he added. “I smiled indulgently. ‘lt would be deceiving Mr Tapetieker. I'm afraid.’ 1 said; ‘but then it would be a harmless deception, after all. I don’t think myself that a young man should live in too frugal a manner, even to save. I’m inelined—yes, if you do that, and Mr

Tapeticker chooses to consider that the money is all what you have saved your self. I think I might stretch a point anil allow him to think so. “The young man’s gratitude was quite touching. I really did feel sorry for him and his friends. Of course, I renewed my caution of secrecy, and he promised to respect my confidence in any negotiations he might make. We made an appointment for the morning, but he didn’t show up. I sat in that nine-by-twelve sweat box with cramps in my spine and one ear stretching out to catch his gentle footstep, wasting all the fleeting moments between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon. At three o’clock a scrubby little mes-senger-boy brought in a note. It was from Henry, and said that he had been prevented from calling, but that he lioped to be on deck with the meretricious mazuma the day following. No time specified, mind you. I was to sit there and cut out paper dolls or something until he got good and ready to allow me to shower wealth on him. Gall? Well, I should remark! 1 don’t know any better company than I am. but I get tired of myself sometimes and I want a change, and here I had fooled away three precious days on this •'raft as it was —72 golden hours, set with four thousand three hundred and twenty diamond minutes. “Winnie quit me cold. There wasn’t enough excitement about it for her. I had a notion to drop it myself, as patient as I am. "I saw clearly then that I ought to have waltzed him over to the bank the first day, acquired his stuff, and faded away, but 1 got stuck on myself in the character of Jim Tapeticker’s dough disseminator, and my artistic vanity threw me off my base. I've lost money more than once from my sensitive

aversion to sandpaper methods. I foresaw complications now. Still, the only thing I could do was to play it out. so I went down to the office next day and put in a busy afternoon shaking dice with myself. “I went down to Cary’s at noon and snatched a hasty bite, and then hustled back to find the door unlocked and Frankfurter Steggs fumigating the premises with a stockyards zephyr. He wanted to unfold a scheme he had for organising a lottery. He had found an engraver who would do the essential part of the organisation for a rake-off, and the remaining task of distributing tickets and receiving proceeds of the sales, less the sellers’ commissions. he proposed to undertake with my assistance. 1 put him out and opened all the windows and just got the shop aired when Henry came. “•Well.’ he announced gleefully. ‘l’ve got £500! I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to raise any more than I had because the friends I went to didn’t like to lend without knowing exactly what 1 was going to do with it. although I told them I would certainly return it within a week or two.’ “‘lt’s a distrustful world/ I sighed. “ ‘Even my mother objected to letting me have it.’ he prattled artlessly. ‘I don’t blame her so much, because it’s about all she has. and as I’m expecting to get married pretty soon, of course I can’t be expected to live with her then and pay board.’ “ ‘ Of course not,’ 1 agreed. “ ‘But 1 talked her over,’ he resumed. ‘I told her I’d give her £lO for the use of it if things went the way I expected. 1 said that, of course, because it wouldn’t be fair for me to obligate myself to pay her anything if her money didn't bring me in something extra.’

“ ‘Certainly not.’ I said. At the same time. 1 couldn’t help gagging. He was certainly a luluette. I wanted to open the windows again. I had taken him for a fairly decent boy at first — nothing worse about him than an undue desire for easy money which 1 had purposed to cheek by u wholesome little chunk of exjierieiiee. “Now 1 found myself up against it. 1 couldn’t get his hide without flaying the old lady as we’!. I ain't sentimental. People have t.i have some thing hard to cut their wisdom teeth on. and I’ve been pretty rough on the gums of society at times; but I’ve got a weakness for mothers, never hav ing had one of my own, to my knowledge, and it seemed pretty tough to me to hear Henry figuring on how little he could put the old lady off with and speculating on the chances that she’d have a pretty tough time of it when he quit her. “I looked at him to size him up. He was a husky guy. however. 1 could see that, and I gave up my first idea, which was to take him by the neck and drop him gently down the elevator shaft. Then the thought of the bunch of money qualified my righteous indignation. It was too late to make any further play’ about Tapeticker. It would have queered the whole thing. I made up my mind that I'd take the pot and restitute to the old lady, with a note advising her not to let Henry darling get his hooks on the wad again. I don't say that I would have done it. mind you. I just made up my mind that I would do it. “‘l'll write you a receipt for i..' 1 said. It was hard work to smile, but 1 smiled “‘By the way,’ I added, ‘is your mother’s address thq same as the one you’ve given meF “He smiled, too, and to mv amaze-

inent he pulled a swell silver and morocco cigarette-case from his pocket, lit a cigarette, and blew a puff of smoke over my way. “‘What do you want to know for?' he asked. ‘You needn’t think you can do her any good with Mr Tapeticker. She can work him to the queen’s taste without any assistance from anyone.’ “‘What do you mean?’ 1 asked. “He grinned, and dug into his breast pocket again. This time he fished out a cardcase. and. taking out a card, spun it dexterously with his finger and thumb so that it alighted on my desk right side up. It read: ‘Mr James Poole Tapeticker. Jr.' “The office clock ticked several i imes. A\ ill you give me one of those coffin-nails?’ I asked faintly. *1 don’t quite understand, and I might think better if 1 smoked.' ‘‘‘Help yourself.' he said, ’and when you feel better I’ll buy you a drink. 1 meant to have prolonged the pleasures of anticipation for you a day or two longer, but I’ve got to leave town tonight. Say. I don’t Know whether \ou can appreciate this as much as 1 do. Do you know whom 1 gave mv seat to in the car?’ “ ‘Don’t ask me anything.’ 1 protested. “It was father,’ he giggled. ‘“A man of forbidding exterior, but with a wealth of kindliness, and a generosity almost amounting to prodigality.” Oh! I told him about it! Oh, dear!’ “He choked, and the cigarette smoke got into his lungs and stranged him. He got out of that spasm and went into another. “1 pulled down the cover of my desk put on my hat. and touched him on the shoulder. “ ‘lf you're pretty near through.’ I said, T'd like to lock up the office.'”