Chapter 6

DODGING A MAGNATE AND WHAT CAME OF IT

Next morning, good commuter that he was, Skinner made his customary dash for his train. Honey was used to this, but she was not prepared for what followed on this particular morning.

Skinner had only got halfway down to the gate when he saw Stephen Colby's car coming down the road. Here was the multi-millionaire, with whom he had talked on terms of equality the night before, making for the Pullman end of his train--here was he, Skinner, in his shabby old clothes. Would Colby recognize him or would n't he? First, Skinner was afraid he would n't, then he was afraid he would. He decided not to chance it. He darted back into the vestibule, drew the door half to, and waited until the magnate's car had passed; then he emerged from his hiding-place and made one of his characteristic heel-and-toe sprints for the depot. When he got there, he hurried into the smoker--the laboring man's club.

Skinner repeated this somewhat eccentric advance, retreat, and quick dash maneuver for three successive days, dodging the formidable car of the magnate, and hoping that Honey might not be at her customary place at the front window to watch him off to his train. At first, he was amused. It was a joke on himself, he thought. But repetition presently dulled the edge of comedy. On the fourth occasion of this apparently unaccountable behavior on Skinner's part, the "cage man" began to meditate the matter.

Would he have to do this dodging act every day, like a fugitive, he wondered? It was dawning upon him that his shabby clothes had made him a fugitive from respectability. By jingo! He sat up straight as he realized for the first time that he was the only poorly dressed commuter of whom Meadeville might boast. He had prided himself that he'd never given a cuss what other people thought of his clothes, so long as his bank account was intact. By Jove! Perhaps he'd never known what they thought because they were too polite to tell him!

If he'd had no one but himself to consider, Skinner would have made the plunge and bought a new business suit right away--even in the face of what that might entail. And his experience with the dress suit had taught him that every purchase was fraught with complex possibilities. But how could he spring it on Honey--chief guardian of the bank account?

Honey, too, pondered Skinner's curious dash out and back, the first day he did it. She had her suspicions, but said nothing. She simply waited until the following morning to confirm them. And when the whole combination of circumstances--Skinner's advance, Colby's car appearing down the road, Skinner's retreat--was repeated, it was as plain as an open book to the perspicacious little lady. Dearie was shabby, and for the first time in his life he had realized the disadvantage of it. She was secretly glad, for she had always felt that Dearie's thrift with regard to clothes was misplaced. But she could never get him to see it that way. The mere flashing by of Stephen Colby had done more for Skinner in that particular than years of affectionate solicitude on her part. "Really," she mused, "some men have to be blasted out of a rut with dynamite!"

From recent experience, Honey deduced that Skinner would shy at any new purchase, with its ramifying possibilities. Then how to prepare the way? Honey was an arch diplomat--and--Honey was a great cook.

Honey met Skinner at the door the evening of the fourth day and gently drew him into the dining-room.

"Look!" she cried, pointing to the table. "Oysters!--and later--beefsteak! Think of it! Beefsteak!"

Skinner noted with some relief that it was the same formula she had used on a previous memorable occasion. What could it presage? Was it possible that his soul and her soul had but a single thought? Had he betrayed himself by his shuttle-like performance of the past four mornings? Had she observed him, and was she "wise"?

The matter of the business suit was upper-most in the mind of each. But as it was something that involved a further assault upon their financial stronghold, it was a subject that must be approached with great tact. Each, dreading an avalanche of reproach, waited for the other to speak. And it was not until Skinner had finished his second demi-tasse that he began, using the suggestive rather than the assertive form of speech, a form frequently used in the "feeling-out" process. He knew that he could tell by the way Honey received his suggestion whether to go ahead or gracefully to change the subject and save his face.

"I notice, Honey, that Colby and Crawford and the rest of that bunch wear dark business suits," he ventured.

"Dark, but generally with a fine, threadlike stripe, and ties to match always," Honey said softly. "And the simplest jewelry," she went on,--"inexpensive jewelry!"

Then they both fell silent.

"I know what you're thinking about," Skinner ventured again, not unwilling to shift the burden.

"What?"

"You want me to get a new business suit. Now, don't deny it."

He made the "don't deny it" suggest a warning, almost a threat. But now that the ice was broken, Honey did n't take the plunge. Instead, she felt her way in.

"You have n't had one for ever so long--and that was only a _cheap_ one."

"I would n't need one now if I did n't have to live up to that darned dress suit you made me buy."

Honey sighed.

"Think of the cost," Skinner went on, still using the suggestive form and leaving himself an avenue of escape, if necessary.

Honey threw her head back and looked resolutely into Skinner's eyes. "Cost or no cost, you must have one!" Skinner had accomplished his purpose and had at the same time avoided the odium of doing so. But Honey had no such scruples. She had taken the initiative and she was going to see the thing through to the limit. "But we must be very careful about the socks and ties--for, of course, you know, Dearie, you must get socks and ties," she went on. "I have figured it all out."

"You have, you fraud?" said Skinner.

Honey pouted reproachfully, and he hastened to add, "I, too, have figured it all out."

"You fraud!" Honey came over and put her head on Skinner's shoulder.

"Are n't we the great little conspirators, you and I?" said Dearie, as he stroked Honey's glossy hair.

"Yes, each one conspiring all alone by himself against the other."

Next day Skinner bought a new business suit, and accordingly jotted down:--

_Dress-Suit Account_

_Debit_ _Credit_

Extension dress-suit plant! One business suit! .... $50.00

The first morning Skinner wore his new suit to business, he left the house for the depot with head erect. He did n't give a rap whether Colby saw him or not. But good luck always attends the indifferent in spirit. Colby's car flashed by and the multi-millionaire nodded genially to the "cage man," which elated the latter, for he liked Colby--felt that in a way he was a man after his own heart. But Skinner was too wise to attempt to force himself on the magnate. If there were to be any further cultivation of mutual acquaintance, he resolved to let Colby take the initiative. He would wait.

As Skinner entered the office of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc., conscious of his new clothes and suffering somewhat from stage fright, he sensed something in the air of the great room that was devoted to the fluttering femininity of the concern, something humorous. But as he was a man of authority there, there was no outward manifestation of the same. The messenger boys from outside, however, were not subject to the rules of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc.

"Gee," Skinner heard Mickey, the "littlest," whisper to Jimmy of the Postal, "pipe de new glad rags on de cage man!"

And Postal, duly impressed, admonished, "You better not burn any wood in here now 'cause he'll git after you." Then, in a whisper, "He never did before 'cause he never had any breeches on an' he did n't dare to run out."

"How do you know dat?"

"You never seen him below de middle of his vest, did you?"

"From down here, lookin' up, wid dat winder in de way, I never seen him much below his collar," whispered Mickey, the "littlest."

"Well, den, you never knew whether he had breeches on or not," pursued the young logician.

Skinner's lips trembled as he overheard, but he took no official notice. Instead, he frowned hard at his cash-book. But when the boys had gone, he turned his face away from the fluttering femininity in the big room and his form shook with emotion.

After a bit, he took out his little book and wrote:--

_Dress-Suit Account_

_Debit_ _Credit_

The best laugh I ever had--in this or any of my previous existences.

Later in the day, Skinner crossed to the office of Ransome & Company, on a matter of business for the firm. There was no one there when he entered but the office boy. But the youngster, from force of habit, when he saw Skinner, the acquiescent one, said, "Mr. Ransome's very busy this morning."

"So am _I_ very busy," Skinner jerked out. "Just tell him I'm here."

The boy looked at Skinner in surprise, then without a word shambled into the inside office. Presently, a tall, pompous man entered and looked about for somebody to take his name to Ransome. As the boy emerged from the private office, he caught sight of this gentleman and darted back. In a few moments he returned and spoke to Skinner.

"Mr. Ransome'll see _you_ just as soon as he's finished with this gentleman," indicating the pompous one.

But the new business clothes had knocked all the acquiescence out of Skinner. In their spic-and-spanness they fairly shrieked for respect.

"See here, boy," Skinner exclaimed angrily, "you tell Mr. Ransome that I was here before this gentleman and that I want him to see me now or not at all!"

"But--"

"Go!" said Skinner. "My firm is important if I'm not," he muttered as the boy disappeared.

And as Ransome was seller to, instead of a buyer from, McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc., he came out immediately, rubbing his hands.

"Why, Mr. Skinner, I did n't know you were in a hurry."

"Personally, I'm not," replied Skinner, "but my firm's time is valuable."

"Of course--of course--come right in."

When he got back to his cage, Skinner jotted down in his little book:--

_Dress-Suit Account_

_Debit_ _Credit_

One victory over detested office boy! Good moral effect. Shan't waste any more time hereafter just to accommodate pompous individuals!

"Say, Mac," said Perkins at luncheon, "did you notice our Skinner's brand-new attire?"

"Yes, Perk," said the senior partner, "and I 'm mighty glad of it. I was always ashamed of him--the way he dressed."