CHAPTER III
PLAY YOUR ACE!
This here combination that opens the door to success is a funnything--everybody's lookin' for it and everybody's got it! Some guysknows just where to put their hands on it when they get the big chanceto crack the safe of fame and as a result they become boss bankers orboss bricklayers--either of which is a trick and hard to do. Otherguys forget the first three numbers or somethin' and never get betterthan John Smiths in the telephone book of life.
It takes speed to get a baseball from the pitcher to the catcher, butit's _control_ that puts the pill over the plate, which may be theanswer to why John D. Rockefeller ain't payin' _you_ rent and you gotyour first time to be elected president of anything, from the dear oldU. S. A. to the Red Carnation Social Club. Instead of sittin' aroundknockin' winners every time the papers print a new one, give yourselfthe once over and see if you can find out what _your_ trick is. Youmay only be able to wiggle your left ear funnier than anybody on theblock--Great! _Cash on it_! It's a cinch you can do _somethin',_ andonce you find out what that somethin' is, the rest is as easy asfallin' off Pike's Peak!
No--easier! Because you gotta climb Pike's Peak before you can falloff. You may be a guy like Hector Sells, which started life with astraight flush, and played it like it was a pair of deuces. Ifsomebody hadn't peeped over his shoulder, seen what he held and playedit for him, Hector would still be thinkin' that the only guy in theworld drawin' over twenty bucks a week was J. P. Morgan. As it is,Hector has $2.75 right now for every wave in the ocean, and when you goto see him, you become acquainted with all the office boys in the world.
Here's the answer.
One night after dinner the wife and I are provin' to each other thatthe road of true love is rough and full of detours, when they's a ringat the bell. We practised self-denial and laid off scrappin' longenough for friend wife to open the door. I made a bet with myself andwin easy. In comes Alex.
"Huh!" he says. "Is they an argument goin' on here again?"
"You said it!" I tells him. "Come on in, you're just in time. We'llmake it three-handed!"
"I don't know why you got married when you're always quarrelin'," hesays, sittin' down.
"That ain't all you don't know!" I says.
"Kindly lay off my cousin," says the wife. "They ain't no use inshowin' the world that I have married a brute!"
With that she presses four dollars' worth of Irish lace against hereyes and develops a cold in the head. So the same as usual, I wentover and patted her on the shoulder which was shakin' the most.
"You win, honey!" I says, with a dollar's worth of vaseline on everyword. "I'll never speak another harsh word to you or Alex again. Thenext time I feel sarcastic, I'll go out in the kitchen and have somewords with the cat. Everybody in the apartment house knows what Ithink of _you_, and I must be _wild_ over Alex or he'd never be in thisflat a second time. If--"
"Never mind the salve!" cuts in the wife. "You'd talk your way out ofpneumonia!"
But they was a smile went with that--the same giggle that used to make'em fight for standin' room in the Winter Garden. So we was all happyand carefree again, with the exception of Alex.
"You're too easy with him!" he growls to the wife, disappointed becausepeace had come. "If you'd punish him, he'd be a better husband."
"She does punish me somethin' cruel!" I says. "By invitin' _you_ upevery day!"
And then of course all bets was off and we all went over the top again!
In about an hour, the people in the next flat had enough, and mentionedthe fact to the landlord. He let us in on it by way of the phone, andall was quiet along the Hudson again.
"I come up here to-night to tell you somethin'," says Alex.
"They's always the United States mail," I says.
"I ain't talkin' to you, I'm speakin' to Cousin Alice!" snarls Alex.
"She can read too!" I says.
"I been thinkin' this here thing over for weeks," he goes on, turnin'his chair so's I can get a good view of his back, "and I made up mymind to-day to go ahead with it."
"What is it, Alex?" asks the wife, all excited. "I know it's goin' tobe somethin' wonderful!"
"You ain't gonna tell me you're gonna stop eatin' here, are you?" Isays. "Because if you are, I'm gonna beat it! I heard tell of guysdyin' of joy and I ain't takin' no chances!"
"The whole trouble with you," says Alex, "is a simple case of jealousy.You was born and brung up in this rube burg called New York and thebest you could do in thirty-five years was to get yourself foreman of abaseball team! I--"
"Yeh!" I butts in. "I fell down the same as Caruso. All he can do issing!"
"I come here from Vermont," goes on Alex, now on his favorite subject,"and right off the reel I get me a ten thousand a year job, notcountin' commissions, sellin' autos. Now I claim that what _I_ did inNew York can be done by anybody--and I'm here to prove it! It's justas easy to be a roarin' success in New York as it is in Paterson, N.J.--and just as hard! There's many a Charlie Chaplin sellin' groceriesand many a Theodore Roosevelt carryin' bricks! In their off hours andin the privacy of their homes, them fellers is doin' for _nothin'_,what Chaplin, Roosevelt, Dempsey and so forth got _paid off_ on! If aman's a gambler, for instance, and he bets on a race horse, the chancesare he stays up all night lookin' up the past performances of thathorse and seein' just what he can do under all conditions. He studieshow the horse finished on a muddy track and where he come in when thetrack was fast. He makes note of what the horse did under differentweights and different jockeys. He watches what it does against certainother horses. Then when he thinks everything is favorable, he bets hismoney! He--"
"Look here, Alex!" I butts in. "Did you come all the way up hereto-night to lay me on a horse race?"
"No!" he snorts, in disgust, "I come up here to lay you on _yourself_!If this same man that studies the dope before he bets on a horse, wouldstudy the dope on _himself_ with the same attention to detail, beforehe enters the handicap of life--he'd be a winner! He wouldn't have tobet on no horses or nothin' else, because he'd be his own best bet!He'd find out what his particular ace was and play it to the limitevery time! Instead of that, the average feller spends his timesittin' in the greatest game in the world--life--drawin' five cardsevery time and waitin' for the royal flush to be dealt him pat. He--"
"My goodness, Alex!" remarks the wife, "I didn't know you was agambler. Where did you learn all those poker terms?"
"He once claimed casino was vicious, too!" I says.
Alex gets up and reaches for his hat.
"There ain't no use talkin' to people which has checked their brainswith the hat boy!" he says. "But before I go, I wanna tell you this.Every man has got the key to his own success buried in him somewhere,and I'll bet I can take the champion dub of any given precinct and makehim a winner the minute I find out where he hid _his_!"
"Let's go to the movies, instead of fightin' like cats and dogs,"remarks the wife, puttin' on her handbag.
"Yes!" sneers Alex, "let's go to the movies and knock the leadin' manbecause he's gettin' $30,000 a year, and let's explain to each otherhow he's gettin' away with murder and ain't got a thing but his looks.That's much better than sittin' down and figurin' how we can make thesame amount of money, if we--"
"Look here, Alex!" I interrupts, gettin' a trifle peeved. "You took mefor eight hundred berries when you first invaded New York and, suckerlike, I'm lookin' for a come-back. Are you on the level with thatstuff about you bein' able to put _anybody_ over if you get in theircorner?"
"Am I on the level with it?" he says. "Why, say!--I'm goin' in the_business_ of makin' successes outa dubs! I'm gonna take 'em one byone, put 'em over and charge a reasonable percentage for my work. I'msick and tired of the automobile game and I'm gonna incorporate myselfas Alex Hanley, S. D."
"What's the S. D. for?" I asks. "South Dakota?"
"No--Success Developer!" he says. "I ain't selfish--I put myself overand
now I'm gonna put 'em _all_ over! At the same time, as I say, I'llcharge a reasonable sum for my work. Why this is bigger business thanWall Street, makin' men instead of breakin' 'em and--"
"Stop talkin' for a second, Alex," I says, "and get a new sensation! Igot an idea of what that reasonable charge of yours will be, that'sprovided your scheme works, which it prob'ly won't. If you cause a guyto make himself twenty dollars, your fee won't exceed a hundred andfifty! You're as liberal with money as Grant's Tomb is with advice.But if you're on the level with this, I'll bet you a thousand bucks,American money, to five hundred of the same coinage, that you'll floplike a seal on your first try. They's only one thing you gotta do!"
"What is it?" he asks. He was thinkin' of them thousand bucks and hiseyes sparkled till you could of hocked 'em anywheres for five hundredapiece.
"You gotta let _me_ pick the first victim!" I says.
"Not to change the subject," remarks the wife to me, "if you got athousand dollars for purposes of bettin', they's a ring in Tiffany'swindow which will come here to-morrow escorted by a C.O.D. bill. Theprice and one thousand dollars is the same."
"Do you think I print this money myself?" I hollers.
"I would of married you long ago if I did!" she says, smilin' sweetly.
"Think of a man mean enough to argue about money with his lovin' wife!"sneers Alex.
"If _you_ was married," I says, "your wife would think they had stoppedthe circulation of all money, with the exception of nickels!"
"Ha! Ha!" he sneers, like a movie villain. "I just give Eve Rossiteran engagement ring that can be _pawned_ for eight hundred men!"
"I think you're four flushin'," I hollers, gettin' warmed up, "but youcan't hang nothin' on me! You go down to Tiffany's, honey," I tellsthe wife, "and get that thousand buck ring--but put up a battle for itat $750!"
The wife pulls her million-dollar smile and gimme a chaste salute, asthe guy says, on the forehead. Then she opens her sea-goin' handbagand takes somethin' out.
"Here it is, dear!" she says, with the giggle that made me a marriedman, "I knowed you'd fall, so I got it this morning! It was only $987.Ain't I the great little buyer?"
Oh, boy!
"Well," I says to Alex, "it seems to be the open season for takin' me.Does that bet go?"
"It does!" he says, rubbin' his hands together like a crap shooter.
"And I produce the first candidate for fame and fortune?"
"Bring him on!" he grins, winkin' at the wife--a thing he knows Iloathe.
We shook hands on it and I went out into the kitchen to laugh it overwith the cat. I'm a soft-hearted boob and I hate to take a sucker, atthat. But accordin' to my dope, that dough of friend Alex's was thesame as in the bank in my name!
Now the bird I had in mind to make me win this bet from Alex was apitcher I had on the payroll who's name was Hector Sells. He would ofbeen just as rotten a ball player if his name had been First Base,Center Field or Short Stop. He could do everything in the world with abaseball, with the slight exception of gettin' it over the plate, and,when he pitched, his main difficulty was keepin' the pill outa leftfield. In the seven years he had been stealin' wages from my club histwirlin' percentage read like the thermometer in Alaska and when hecome to bat, as far as he ever found out, first base was in Berlin. Iput him on the third base coachin' line one afternoon and he tries tosend a runner back to second when the batter triples. I tried this guyout at every position on the team and he made so many errors that theofficial scorers went out and bought addin' machines every time heappeared in the line-up. If they was anything on earth connected withthe game of baseball that Hector could do, he never showed it to me,and puttin' a uneyform on him was the same as givin' a blind man a pairof opera glasses.
Yet with all this, that guy thought he was the greatest baseball playerthat ever laid hold of a glove. He not only thought it, he _conceded_it.
For the past year, Hector had played out the schedule from the dugout,with the exception of six games he pitched against the Athletics. Helost an even six. I sent him to every flag station in North Americawhere they looked on baseball as a game, and Hector would come back atthe end of the season with his suit case jammed full of unconditionalreleases. Him and pneumonia was just as easy to get rid of as far as Iwas concerned and we started off every season with Hector in our midst.
Three winters in succession I loaned that guy enough dough to sethimself up in business, so's he'd lay off me and watch the pastime fromthe grandstand. He lost a cigar store shootin' craps, a pool roombettin' with the customers and a delicatessen because he eat all thestock himself. I got him a job on the road sellin' sportin' goods, andthe only thing he sold all year was a pitcher's glove at $1.25. Hebought that himself.
Now the thing is--why did I keep a guy like that on my club for thelengthy space of seven years? The newspaper birds claimed Hector hadseen me murder somebody or somethin', because they says I wouldn't lethim in a ball park with a ticket, if he didn't have _somethin'_ on methat must be kept from the world at any price. Well, it wasn't nothin'like that--but it was somethin' just as good, as the grocer says. Meand Hector was kids together in the same ward, and when we started outto dumfound the world, he had a bankroll which his beloved father lefthim and I had nothin' but freckles. I practically lived off that guytill me and real money became well acquainted, so I couldn't see himget the worst of it now. It would of broke his heart if he ever gotshoved outa organized baseball--he was a maniac about the game! SoHector drawed his dough every season, come what may--and at that I wasdoin' no more than he did for me.
I managed to keep him busy in some way about the park--always with auneyform on--and now and then I let him pitch an innin' when we had thegame locked away in the safe deposit vault. In all the seven years, henever missed a single day showin' up at the park and he was therottenest ball player that ever stood under a shower. Them wasHector's two records!
Well, I dragged Alex out to the ball park the next day and pointed outHector to him. We was playin' St. Looey and along around the sixthinnin' we had the game sewed up so tight that they couldn't of won itin a raffle. I took out Harmon and sent Hector in to pitch.
"Gaze over this bird carefully, Alex!" I says, "because he's the babyyou're gonna pay off on! I claim you are now peerin' at the championdub of the world. If you can make a winner outa him or discover whathe has failed to develop that would make him one, I'll not only pay myend of our bet with a grin, but I'll throw in a weddin' chest of silverfor you and Eve Rossiter!"
"Write that down!" says Alex; "and sign your full name to it!"
"You don't think I'd welsh on you, do you?" I says, gettin' sore.
"I don't know if they's enough ink in this or not," he answers, handin'me a fountain pen. "Write it on the back of this card."
When the crowd sees Hector strollin' out to the box, they give him hisusual reception, which was the same as the Kaiser would have got ifhe'd walked down Broadway along in April, 1917. The first guy up forSt. Looey hit a roller through the box and Hector stood on his leftshoulder tryin' to pick it up. The runner only got as far as secondbefore Hector arose. The next guy put a neat round hole in the rightfield fence, makin' it two runs. Well, before it was three out theyhad got four more and the only guy connected with the St. Looey teamthat didn't get a hit was the owner. They only quit slammin' the pillbecause they had batted themselves sick and could no longer stagger upto the plate.
Hector comes to bat in the next innin' with the bases as full as aminer on pay night. He lets two go by, right in the slot, and he felldown skinnin' his nose, swingin' at the next for the third and laststrike.
I removed him by hand and sent in a ball player to pitch the rest ofthe game.
"Well, Alex," I says on the way home, "what do you think of yourpatient?"
"Is he as bad as that every day?" he asks me.
"No," I says. "He was Ty Cobb and Walter Johnson to-day, alongside ofwhat he usually is!"
&
nbsp; "Hmmph!" grunts Alex. "I can see he ain't a ball player, anyway."
"You been readin' 'Sherlock Holmes,'" I says.
"Baseball ain't everything!" declares Alex, rubbin' his nose. "And thepoint we have to consider is--what _can_ he do?"
"That's easy!" I says. "How much is seven from seven?"
"Why--nothin'," says Alex.
"That's Hector!" I says.
With that I told him Hector's pedigree from the time he crossed my pathwhen an infant, to date. I left out nothin' and laid it on good andthick. I explained how Hector had been the world's most consistentfailure from the time he had been introduced as "It's a boy!" up to thetime of writin' and when I got all through, Alex grins like a wolf.
"A most promisin' case!" he says. "This here's somethin' that's gonnaput me on my mettle, right at the start. The tougher a thing looks,the more appetizin' it strikes me! Now I'll take it for granted thatthis man's got no _strong_ points. All right--that's nothin' but adetail! You've told me a lot of hard things about him, but you ain'tsaid he ain't human--and if he's human he's got a _weakness_! Awell-developed weakness in a man has often been turned into glitterin'gold. Does he drink?"
"Let's save time," I says. "Hector don't know whether whiskey and beeris drinks, or the battery for to-day's game. He couldn't tell youoffhand whether tobacco was a thing to chew and smoke or the latest foxtrot. The only woman he ever met twice was his mother, and he thinkssayin' 'Darnation!' in earnest is the same as homocide. His only loveis baseball and his only weakness is his stomach!"
"Aha!" says Alex. "I knew we'd get at it! He's fond of food, eh?"
"Fond of it?" I says. "Why, this guy can do more things with a steakthan Edison can do with a pint of electricity! He took me to a dinnerhe cooked himself one night and the only thing I recognized on thetable was the water. Everything was fixed up after his own recipes andat the drop of a hat he can tell you how many of them calories andproteins they is in a pea!"
"That's enough!" hollers Alex. "He's as good as over right now! Hesimply picked the wrong trade when he took up baseball, and I'll gethim a job as chef in one of the famous hotels so--"
"Don't make me laugh!" I cuts him off. "Would I of bet you, if it wasas easy as that? They ain't a chance on earth--I thought of that yearsago. Hector wouldn't boil water for money--he only cooks that stuff upfor himself. He--"
"A true artist, eh?" says Alex, kinda thoughtful. "That makes it allthe better! Bring him up for dinner to-morrow night and let me studyhim. In a week I'll collect that little bet from you and then I'll beready to take on the next case."
"You certainly stand well with yourself, don't you?" I sneers. "Well,lemme give you a little tip. Don't try to get that bird to give upbaseball, because they ain't a Chinaman's chance of that! The onlychance you got is to put him over as a ball player, and if _you_ can do_that_, I can sell electric fans to the Esquimaux!"
"Bring him up to-morrow night," says Alex, grinnin' like a wolf. "Thislooks like a cinch to me!"
I went to Hector in the clubhouse the next afternoon. He had had ahard day playin' the White Sox--from the bench.
"Where are you goin' to-night?" I asks him.
He flushes up a bit.
"Well, Mac," he says, "I have finally found a joint where they know howto cook 'em without abusin' 'em and I was figurin' on goin' therefirst, so--"
"Cook what?" I butts in.
"Alligator pears!" he says. "Y'know they is a lot of nourishment inthem babies when they're properly prepared and--"
"You'll be around at that beanery _to-morrow_ night!" I shuts him off."To-night you're comin' up and have dinner with me."
He gets one shade redder.
"Why," he stammers, "Ahumph! That--er--that's terrible fine of you,Mac, but on the level, I--y'know this place is the only one in New Yorkwhere they can cook them things and I'm a hound after them! I--"
"Come on!" I says. "We're gonna give the subway a play. The wife'sexpectin' you and I got a friend that's crazy to meet you. Are yougonna throw me down?"
He backs away and ruffles his hair.
"Mac," he says, "I'll have dinner with you to-night on one condition!"
"Shoot!" I says.
"Well, Mac," he tells me, "they ain't no doubt in my mind that yourwife is some cook, but if I'm gonna eat this stuff--I--well, I demandthe privilege of cookin' it!"
"Where d'ye get that stuff?" I says. "Why--"
"Lemme do this, Mac," he says, "and you'll never regret it. I can hangit on any chef in New York for money and you'll eat the greatest mealyou ever got outside of in your life!"
Well, this was new stuff to me, but I figured I was gonna get fivehundred bucks outa it by way of Alex, so I fell.
"All right!" I says. "Come up and cook your head off. I'm game! Butif you're as good a cook as you are a ball player, I can see where meand the wife suspends friendly relations for about a year!"
Alex is already on hand when we get to the house and I introduced himto Hector.
"Howdy!" he says. "I seen you pitch the other day and I must say itwas a treat! The support they give you was brutal or you'd of shutthem other fellers out with ease."
"You know it!" says Hector. "If they's any one thing I can do, it'splay baseball. That's my dish!"
The wife horns in.
"I'm so glad to meet you, Mister Sells," she says, givin' Hector theold oil. "My husband talks of nothin' but you night and day!"
Which was true--only not the way she meant it.
"That's fine!" says Hector. "Me and Mac has been friends since theyburnt Rome. Where's the kitchen?"
I showed him, and the wife shakes her head as much as to say, "Anotherrummy, eh?" I steered Hector over to the ice box and told him to goahead and run wild. When I come out, Alex is featurin' his famousgrin, and I gotta show the wife my breath. In about ten minutes thekitchen door opens and Hector's head pops out. His hands is full offlour and so's his suit for that matter, but his face is all lit uplike Coney Island.
"I don't wanna be no bother, Mrs. Mac," he pipes, "but could a man geta apron around here?"
We got him inside of some gingham, and he disappeared into the kitchenagain.
"Where d'ye get them birds?" says the wife, noddin' after him.
"Sssh!" says Alex. "That feller there is gonna make us all rich beforethe month is over! We'll have more money than we can count and--"
"Oh, won't that be grand!" says the wife, who'd believe Alex if he toldher Missouri started the war. "Then I can have everything I want."
"I thought _that_ happened when you got _me_," I says.
"Still," she sighs, payin' me no attention as usual, "money ain'teverything."
"No," says Alex, "but it'll get it!"
"We always was used to money," goes on the wife, gettin' kinda dopedunder the influence of the sweet and savory odors which was comin' fromthe kitchen. "You know, Alex, that our family was connected with thebest people in Vermont."
"They ain't got a thing on a telephone operator," I says. "They getconnected with the best people in the United States every day!"
I don't get a tumble from either of them.
"There was Great-uncle Ed," proceeds the wife, kinda dreamy. "If hehadn't died so sudden, he'd of been worth a million."
I tried my luck again.
"That's the one that turned out to be a carbolic acid fiend, ain't it?"I says.
At this point, the greatest meal that ever played a date at our flat,come outa the kitchen escorted by Hector. One whiff of that layout andthe greatest chef in the world would of gone out and bought a revolver.Hector is nothin' but smiles.
"Give this a whirl!" he says. "And lemme know what you think of it. Ididn't have much to work with--only lamb chops, vegetables and thelike, but I did what I could."
Oh, boy!--that was _some_ feed! Conversation lagged a bit for abouthalf a hour, while we fell to and demolished this stuff, and Hectorswells up like a human yeast cake under th
e kind words that come hisway. Finally, we had to quit eatin' for lack of further accommodationsand the wife tells Hector that they ain't no doubt about it, as a cookhe wins the garage.
"Oh, that's nothin'," he says; gettin' an attack of modesty. "I'mkinda fussy about my food and I been figurin' out different ways ofcookin' up stuff to get the best outa it, for years. That's the onlyamusement I got. I ain't so much as a cook, but you oughta see me playball, heh, Mac?"
The old glitter comes into Alex's eyes.
"I seen you play ball, Mister Sells," he says, "and you are a knockout!But what you just said about food interests me more. I'm kinda oddregardin' vittles myself and what I seen in the paper to-day has got meworried sick."
"What was that?" says Hector.
"Well," says Alex, "there's gonna be a fearful shortage of all kinds ofmeats and vegetables, because all the available food in the U. S. isabout to be seized for the army. This time next year we'll all prob'lybe livin' on bread and water and lucky to get it!"
Hector gets as white as precipitated chalk.
"You don't mean it!" he gasps, gettin' half outa his chair.
"It's a fact," says Alex. "I was only readin' it this mornin'."
I thought Hector was gonna fall dead at our feet.
"But--but what am _I_ gonna do?" he says, kinda dazed.
"What are _you_ gonna do?" I sneers. "What are we _all_ gonna do?"
"You don't get me!" he says. "It's all well enough for you guys whichcan eat common ordinary food like ham and eggs and steaks and chops,but I can't _go_ that stuff! All the time I ain't out at the ball parkI'm experimentin' with different kinds of stuff to eat, and if they goto work and shut off all them rare vegetables and so forth on me--well,I don't eat, that's all!"
He gets up and reaches for his hat.
"Well," says Alex, "I can see that you and me is pretty much alike. Ican't eat porterhouse steaks and French lamb chops as a steady diet,either! My stomach craves them rare dishes the same as yours does, andit sure looks like you and me is gonna starve to death when this foodconservation thing goes through!"
Hector slaps his hands together and squares his jaw.
"_I_ ain't gonna starve!" he says. "They has got to be 1,500 caloriesand a amount of proteins in proportion go into my system every day.Not only that, its gotta be in a tasty form! I'm gonna go home andfigure this thing out so's I'll be took care of when the governmentgrabs off all the food supplies. They must be somethin' a man can do!Good night, folks--and thanks for the use of the kitchen."
With that he blows.
"I think he's a nut!" remarks the wife, when the hall door bangs.
"Leave him be!" says Alex, rubbin' his hands together, a habit thatgets my goat. "I got him started now and--"
"Say!" I says. "I didn't see nothin' in no paper about the governmentgonna seize all the eats. I think you was kiddin' Hector, myself!"
"You didn't see the Civil War, either, did you?" says Alex. "I supposeyou don't believe that, eh? I told you I was gonna put this fellerover and if you'll leave me be, I will! I told you every man had anace buried somewhere, didn't I? Well, Hector's ace is his madinfatuation for his stomach. He's never played it yet, because there'sbeen no reason to do so. As long as he had the money, he could buy thestuff and hash it up in any way his peculiar tastes desired. Once hethinks he _can't_ do that, he'll put all he's got under his hat intofindin' a way to get all them proteins and calories he wants. I'vegiven him somethin' he never had before--an incentive--and--"
"What do you figure Hector's gonna do to startle the world?" I says.
"Search me!" says Alex, grinnin', "but we'll all get paid off onwhatever it is, you can gamble on that!"
The wife sniffs.
"I never heard tell of no man that couldn't eat porterhouse steaks!"she says.
"I seen a lot of them to-day," says Alex, puttin' on his coat.
"Where?" asks the wife.
"I was passin' the Evergreen Cemetery!" says Alex. "Good night, all!"
The next day, Hector comes to me before the game and you never seensuch a change in a guy in your life! He looked like he hadn't slept awink since they buried Washington and he's as nervous as a steam drill.
"Mac," he says, "I wanna ask two favors off of you, the first I askedin a long while."
"Shoot, Hector!" I tells him. "You know I can deny you nothin'."
"I want a week off and the loan of five hundred bucks," he says.
"I'll tell you," I says. "Take _two_ weeks off and forget about thefive hundred, heh?"
"No, Mac--I gotta have the dough!" he says. "With what I got saved up,I figure it'll be ample."
"Ample for what?" I asks.
"I can't tell no man nothin' about it now," he answers, "but when Icome back from my vacation, I'll let you in on it. I don't like to saythis, Mac--but when I was slippin' it to you, I never asked whether youwanted it to get a hair cut with or to try and put Wall Street on thebum. If--"
"That's enough!" I cuts him off, takin' out the roll. "Here you are,Hector--and if you want any more they's plenty of it where that comefrom!"
They was--in the mint.
When Hector had put some distance between himself and the ball park, Ibegin to think the thing over. If he _did_ pull any startlin' stunt, Istood to lose a thousand bucks, not countin' the weddin' gift, to Alex.They was five hundred more I'd invested right then, makin' fifteenhundred in all, which I considered was gettin' into money. For all Iknowed, Hector and Alex might be framin' me and they ain't no manlivin' who loves bein' a sucker.
I decided right then and there to shoot another nickel on the thing andI called up the Ryan Detective Agency. Mike Ryan had been a friend ofme and Hector since we'd been in baseball. I told him the whole layoutand asked for a report on the activities of Hector the followin' day,if possible.
It was three days before I seen Ryan's report. He give it to mehimself by mouth.
"Say!" he says. "This Hector bird has gone nutty, and I suppose bein'friends of his, you and me had better have him put away where he can'tdo himself no violence."
"What's he doin'?" I asks.
"Well," says Ryan, "I'll give you the dope since he left the ball parkon Monday. The first thing he does is go to the bank and draw outevery nickel he's got. Then he moves from the hotel to CerealCrossin', N. J. This burg casts eleven votes for president every fouryears and they all work on the same farm. Hector hires a shack awayout in the middle of the woods there and, from then on, boxes andcrates begins to arrive for him from everywheres but Brazil. I met upwith a Secret Service guy who had dropped in to get a line on whatkinda bombs Hector was makin' before pinchin' him, and we went throughthis express stuff durin' the night. The first crate we tackledcontained all the glassware in the world of a medical nature. They wasbottles, test tubes, bowls and all the stuff usual found in a practicalanarchist's workshop. After the first peep, the Secret Service guywanted to run right over and fit Hector with iron bracelets, but I gothim to hold off long enough to look over the rest of the stuff. Wewent through every box and what d'ye think we found in 'em?"
"I wasn't there," I says. "Tell me."
"Well," says Ryan, grinnin', "when all this stuff was assembled, itwould make a first class delicatessen shop and that's all! They wasmeats, cheese, olive oil, fish, vegetables, pickles, mustard and aboutfifteen other eatables I never seen or heard tell of before in my life!We busted a lot of it open, lookin' for explosives, but they was all onthe level. Why, that bird's got enough stuff down there to keep him infood for the rest of his life!"
I bust out laughin'.
"Ha, ha!" I says. "That's it! The poor fathead went and fell for thatbunk Alex handed him and he's gone and laid in that stuff so's he won'tstarve when the government seizes the food supplies. Can you tie that?"
"I always thought he was a little queer," says Ryan. "Especially whenhe claims he's a ball player. Let's get him in some nice, privatesanitarium somewheres and I'll sp
lit the bill with you."
"Leave him alone!" I says. "I'll take care of this myself. If hestays there long enough, I gotta chance to win a piece of money and--"
"All right!" says Ryan. "It ain't no milk outa my coffee, but thatbird oughta be under lock and key!"
I could hardly wait to tell Alex about Hector's first step towardssuccess. I rung him up immediately and give him the dope, windin' upby askin' when he'd be ready to pay me off.
"Pay _you_ off?" he says. "Save that comedy for Cousin Alice! Justyou leave Hector be now; from what you tell me everything's goin' fineand--"
"Goin' fine?" I hollers. "When that poor simp buries himself in Jerseywith all the food in the world, do you call that makin' good?"
"Gimme a week!" says Alex. "He said he'd be back then, and if he ain'tshown somethin' by that time, you get the check."
"Fair enough!" I says, "and have it certified."
The followin' Monday night, Alex as usual is honorin' me and the wifewith his presence at dinner. I was in such good humor that I didn't asmuch as wince when he calls for another piece of roast beef, makin' aneven eight. Hector had failed to appear as advertised and the notedSuccess Developer had promised to pay me off before he left. They wasa ring at the bell and the wife ushers in Hector, ruinin' the night forme!
"I would of reported at the ball park this afternoon like I promised,"he says, "only I was in a burg where the only time a train ever stoppedthere was when one went off the track."
I hardly knowed it was the same Hector which went away the week before.His cheeks was filled out past the legal limit and he had a color thatwould make an insurance company let him write his own policy. He wasAlfred Q. Health--that's all!
"I'm sorry to see you people eatin' the flesh of the cow, roasted in anunscientific manner," he says. "One slab of that is shy justforty-eight calories and they's more proteins in a filetted bean!" Hereaches in his pocket and pulls out a little package. "If I can drawup a chair here," he says, "I'll have dinner with you."
"I'll get another plate," says the wife, "and some coffee--"
"Not a thing!" says Hector. "I got mine with me!" With that heunwraps the package and pulls out a thing about the size of a deck ofcards. I thought at first it was a razor hone, but Hector bites intoit. "Just a glass of water," he says, "though with this a man don'teven need that!"
Alex bounces outa his chair and gimme the laugh.
"What's that?" he hollers at Hector.
"That," says Hector, "is the last word in calories, protein andnourishment! It contains each and every juice and sustainin' part ofall meats and vegetables known to man, with a little glutein inventionof my own combined. It has got it forty ways on all other patentfoods, because it's not only nourishin', it's so darned tasty that onceyou eat it you get the habit, like dope or somethin', and you can't eatanything else! It'll keep forever without ice or preservatives. Youdon't need liquids with it, it supplies its own juices. It's got akick like booze and they ain't no alcohol in it. I invented it and Ibeen livin' on it all week. Look me over and--"
"Gimme a bite!" yells Alex.
He grabs this weird lookin' slab of gue and takes a mouthful.
"Oh, lady!" he hollers. "They's just two things I wanna know. Whatdoes it cost to make this stuff, and will it stand scientific tests?"
"It costs about two cents a square, roughly speakin'," says Hector,"and it'll stand any test in the world! Three of them things is theday's food for a healthy man and--"
"Will you lend me one for two days?" asks Alex, reachin' for his coatand hat.
Hector pulls out another package.
"Sure!" he says. "I brung one along for you, because you claimed youwas the same as me when it come to--"
But Alex and the trick cake of collapsible food was gone!
He showed up at the ball park the end of the week, when Hector waspitchin' against the Red Sox. They got seven runs off him in thesecond innin' and I was just yankin' him out, when Alex come runnin'down to the dugout.
"Hector!" he hollers. "You're a rich man! No more baseball foryours--why, you can buy a team if you want it and--"
"I thought you claimed you never drank," I says.
"What is your friend ravin' about?" inquires Hector.
Alex answers by shovin' a pink slip of paper into his hands. It wasthe first check for fifty thousand bucks I ever seen in my life and itwas signed by the secretary of the U. S. treasury!
"Why--what kinda stuff is this?" mutters Hector, turnin' the check overand over. "It's made out to me! Why--who--where--who give you--"
"It's all yours!" says Alex, rubbin' his hands together and displayin'all his back teeth. "I took your food to Washington and got thegovernment experts to try it out. They been lookin' for a one-pieceration for the army. They wanted somethin' cheap, palatable andnourishin' that the men would take to. They was after a food thatcould be easily packed and shipped. They give your food every possibletest and accepted it. That fifty thousand is only a first payment--westill got four hundred and fifty thousand comin' for the inventionand--"
"My Gawd!" gasps Hector. "They give up all this money for that?"
"Sure!" rattles on Alex. "And all you gotta do is go to the laboratorythey're gonna build and show 'em how to make it. We still got fourhundred and--"
"Where d'ye get that _we_ stuff?" I butts in, seein' my bet with Alexgoin' south. "Hector put that over and--"
"And I put _him_ over!" says Alex. "I'm the young feller that showedhim where _his_ ace was! I therefore take one thousand dollars fromyou, with that weddin' chest of silver, and I'll only charge Hector tenper cent of his profits, as he was my first patient. I--"
"Let's git outa here!" pipes Hector hoarsely. "Think of me with fiftythousand berries and more on the fire!"
Well, we all met at the flat the next afternoon to celebrate. The wifesuggested a theatre party with all that goes with it, and I was lookin'over the papers to pick out a good show. Alex is walkin' up and downthe room, rubbin' them hands of his together.
"Well, well, well!" he says, slappin' Hector on the back. "To thinkthat the days of slavery is all over! No more reportin' at the ballpark every day, no more spring training no more watchin' 'em hit andrun. That must be great after seven years of havin' to see it and--"
"Yeh!" mumbles Hector, kinda glum. He's all dressed up like a brokenarm and takin' it just as hard.
"Well," I says, "where will we go? We got all the shows in New York topick from and--"
"Get one that will give Mister Sells a chance to really relax and enjoyhimself," says the wife. "Somethin' that will allow him to forget hisformer--"
"Why not ask Hector?" says Alex. "Where would _you_ like to go, MisterSells?"
Hector gets up and fumbles with his hat.
"Say!" he says. "Let's all go out and see the ball game, heh?"