Torchy As A Pa

  CHAPTER IX

  BRINK DOES A SIDESLIP

  Mostly it was a case of Old Hickory runnin' wild on the main track andBrink Hollis being in the way. What we really ought to have in theCorrugated general offices is one of these 'quake detectors, same asthey have in Washington to register distant volcano antics, so all handscould tell by a glance at the dial what was coming and prepare to standby for rough weather.

  For you never can tell just when old Hickory Ellins is going to cutloose. Course, being on the inside, with my desk right next to the doorof the private office, I can generally forecast an eruption an hour orso before it takes place. But it's apt to catch the rest of the forcewith their hands down and their mouths open.

  Why, just by the way the old boy pads in at 9:15, plantin' his hoofsheavy and glarin' straight ahead from under them bushy eye dormers ofhis, I could guess that someone was goin' to get a call on the carpetbefore very long. And sure enough he'd hardly got settled in his bigleather swing chair before he starts barkin' for Mr. Piddie.

  I expect when it comes to keepin' track of the overhead, and gettin' afull day's work out of a bunch of lady typists, and knowin' where to buyhis supplies at cut-rates, Piddie is as good an office manager as you'llfind anywhere along Broadway from the Woolworth tower to the Circle; butwhen it comes to soothin' down a 65-year-old boss who's been awake mostof the night with sciatica, he's a flivver. He goes in with his browwrinkled up and his knees shakin', and a few minutes later he comes outpale in the gills and with a wild look in his eyes.

  "What's the scandal, Piddie?" says I. "Been sent to summon the firin'squad, or what?"

  He don't stop to explain then, but pikes right on into the bond room andholds a half-hour session with that collection of giddy youngnear-sports who hold down the high stools. Finally, though, he tip-toesback to me, wipes the worry drops from his forehead, and gives me someof the awful details.

  "Such incompetency!" says he husky. "You remember that yesterday Mr.Ellins called for a special report on outside holdings? And when it issubmitted it is merely a jumble of figures. Why, the young man whoprepared it couldn't have known the difference between a debenture 5 anda refunding 6!"

  "Don't make me shudder, Piddie," says I. "Who was the brainless wretch?"

  "Young Hollis, of course," whispers Piddie. "And it's not the firstoccasion, Torchy, on which he has been found failing. I am sending someof his books in for inspection."

  "Oh, well," says I, "better Brink than some of the others. He won't takeit serious. He's like a duck in a shower--sheds it easy."

  At which Piddie goes off shakin' his head ominous. But then, Piddie hasbeen waitin' for the word to fire Brink Hollis ever since this cheerfuleyed young hick was wished on the Corrugated through a director's pullnearly a year ago, when he was fresh from college. You see, Piddie can'tunderstand how anybody can draw down the princely salary of twenty-fivea week without puttin' his whole soul into his work, or be able to lookhis boss in the face if there's any part of the business that he's vagueabout.

  As for Brink, his idea of the game is to get through an eight-hour daysomehow or other so he can have the other sixteen to enjoy himself in,and I expect he takes about as much interest in what he has to do as ifhe was countin' pennies in a mint. Besides that he's sort of ahappy-go-lucky, rattle-brained youth who has been chucked into this highfinance thing because his fam'ly thought he ought to be doing somethingthat looks respectable; you know the type?

  Nice, pleasant young chap. Keeps the bond room force chirked up on rainydays and always has a smile for everybody. It was him organized theCorrugated Baseball Nine that cleaned up with every other team in thebuilding last summer. They say he was a star first baseman at Yale orPrinceton or wherever it was he was turned loose from. Also he's somepool shark, I understand, and is runnin' off a progressive tournamentthat he got Mr. Robert to put up some cups for.

  So I'm kind of sorry, when I answers the private office buzzer a littlelater, and finds Old Hickory purple in the face and starin' at somethinghe's discovered between the pages of Brink's bond book.

  "Young man," says he as he hands it over, "perhaps you can fell mesomething about this?"

  "Looks lite a program," says I, glancin' it over casual. "Oh, yes. Forthe first annual dinner of the Corrugated Crabs. That was last Saturdaynight."

  "And who, may I ask," goes on Old Hickory, "are the Corrugated Crabs?"

  "Why," says I, "I expect they're some of the young sports on the generaloffice staff."

  "Huh!" he grunts. "Why Crabs?"

  I hunches my shoulders and lets it go at that.

  "I notice," says Old Hickory, taking back the sheet, "that one featureof the entertainment was an impersonation by Mr. Brinkerhoff Hollis, of'the Old He-Crab Himself unloading a morning grouch'. Now, just whatdoes that mean?"

  "Couldn't say exactly," says I. "I wasn't there."

  "Oh, you were not, eh?" says he. "Didn't suppose you were. But youunderstand, Torchy, I am asking this information of you as my privatesecretary. I--er--it will be treated as confidential."

  "Sorry, Mr. Ellins," says I, "but you know about as much of it as I do."

  "Which is quite enough," says he, "for me to decide that the Corrugatedcan dispense with the services of this Hollis person at once. You willnotify Mr. Piddie to that effect."

  "Ye-e-es, sir," says I, sort of draggy.

  He glances up at me quick. "You're not enthusiastic about it, eh?" sayshe.

  "No," says I.

  "Then for your satisfaction, and somewhat for my own," he goes on, "wewill review the case against this young man. He was one of three who wona D minus rating in the report made by that efficiency expert called inby Mr. Piddie last fall."

  "Yes, I know," says I. "That squint-eyed bird who sprung his brain testson the force and let on he could card index the way your gray matterworked by askin' a lot of nutty questions. I remember. Brink Hollis wasguyin' him all the while and he never caught on. Had the whole bunchchucklin'over it. One of Piddie's fads, he was."

  Old Hickory waves one hand impatient. "Perhaps," says he. "I don't meanto say I value that book psychology rigamarole very highly myself. Costus five hundred, too. But I've had an eye on that young man's work eversince, and it hasn't been brilliant. This bond summary is a sample. It'sa mess."

  "I don't doubt it!" says I. "But if I'd been Piddie I think I'd havehung the assignment for that on some other hook than Hollis's. He didn'tknow what a bond looked like until a year ago and that piece of workcalled for an old hand."

  "Possibly, possibly," agrees Old Hickory. "It seems he is clever enoughat this sort of thing, however," and he waves the program.

  I couldn't help smotherin' a chuckle.

  "Am I to infer," says Mr. Ellins, "that this He-Crab act of his washumorous?"

  "That's what they tell me," says I. "You see, right after dinner Brinkwas missin' and everybody was wonderin' what had become of him, when allof a sudden he bobs up through a tin-foil lake in the middle of thetable and proceeds to do this crab impersonation in costume. They say itwas a scream."

  "It was, eh?" grunts Old Hickory. "And the Old He-Crab referred to--whowas that?"

  "Who do you guess, Mr. Ellins?" says I, grinnin'.

  "H-m-m-m," says he, rubbin' his chin. "I can't say I'm flattered. ThinksI'm an old crab, does he?"

  "I expect he does," I admits.

  "Do you?" demands Old Hickory, whirlin' on me sudden.

  "I used to," says I, "until I got to know you better."

  "Oh!" says he. "Well, I suppose the young man has a right to his ownopinion. And my estimate of him makes us even. But perhaps you don'tknow with what utter contempt I regard such a worthless----"

  "I got a general idea," says I. "And maybe that's because you don't knowhim very well."

  For a second the old boy stares at me like he was goin' to blow agasket. But he don't. "I will admit," says he, "that I may have failedto cultivate a close acquaintance with all the harum-scarum cut-ups inmy employ.
One doesn't always find the time. May I ask what course youwould recommend?"

  "Sure!" says I. "If it was me I wouldn't give him the chuck without ahearin'."

  That sets him chewin' his cigar. "Very well," says he. "Bring him in."

  I hadn't figured on gettin' so close to the affair as this, but as I hadI couldn't do anything else but see it through. I finds Brink drummin' ajazz tune on his desk with his fingers and otherwise makin' the best ofit.

  "Well," says he, as I taps him on the shoulder, "is it all over?"

  "Not yet," says I. "But the big boss is about to give you the thirddegree. So buck up."

  "Wants to see me squirm, does he?" says Brink. "All right. But I don'tsee the use. What'll I feed him, Torchy?"

  "Straight talk, nothing else," says I. "Come along."

  And I expect when Brink Hollis found himself lined up in front of themchilled steel eyes he decided that this was a cold and cruel world.

  "Let's see," opens Old Hickory, "you've been with us about a year,haven't you?"

  Hollis nods.

  "And how do you think you are getting on as a business man?" asks Mr.Ellins.

  "Fairly rotten, thank you," says he.

  "I must say that I agree with you," says Old Hickory. "How did youhappen to honor us by making your start here?"

  "Because the governor didn't want me in his office," says Hollis, "andcould get me into the Corrugated."

  "Hah!" snorts Old Hickory. "Think we're running a retreat for youngersons, do you!"

  "If I started in with that idea," says Brink, "I'm rapidly getting overit. And if you want to know, Mr. Ellins, I'm just as sick of working inthe bond room as you are of having me there."

  "Then why in the name of the seven sins do you stick?" demands OldHickory.

  Brink shrugs his shoulders. "Dad thinks it's best for me," says he. "Heimagines I'm making good. I suppose I've rather helped along the notion,and he's due to get some jolt when he finds I've nose-dived to a crash."

  "Unfortunately," says Old Hickory, "we cannot provide shock absorbersfor fond fathers. Any other reasons why you wished to remain on our payroll?"

  "One," says Brink, "but it will interest you less than the first. If Igot a raise next month I was planning to be married."

  Old Hickory sniffs. "That's optimism for you!" says he. "You expect usto put a premium on the sort of work you've been doing? Bah!"

  "Oh, why drag out the agony?" says Brink. "I knew I'd put a crimp in mycareer when I remembered leaving that crab banquet program in the book.Let's get to that."

  "As you like," says Old Hickory. "Not that I attach any great importanceto such monkey shines, but we might as well take it up. So you think I'man old crab, do you?"

  "I had gathered that impression," says Brink. "Seemed to be rathergeneral around the shop."

  Old Hickory indulges in one of them grins that are just as humorous as acrack in the pavement. "I've no doubt," says he. "And you conceived thehappy idea of dramatizing me as the leading comic feature for thisdinner party of my employees? It was a success, I trust."

  "Appeared to take fairly well," says Brink.

  "Pardon me if I seem curious," goes on Old Hickory, "but just how didyou--er--create the illusion?"

  "Oh, I padded myself out in front," says Brink, "and stuck on a lot ofcotton for eyebrows, and used the make-up box liberal, and gave themsome red-hot patter on the line that--well, you know how you work off agrouch, sir. I may have caught some of your pet phrases. Anyway, theyseemed to know who I meant."

  "You're rather clever at that sort of thing, are you?" asks Old Hickory.

  "Oh, that's no test," says Brink. "You can always get a hand with localgags. And then, I did quite a lot of that stuff at college; put on acouple of frat plays and managed the Mask Club two seasons."

  "Too bad the Corrugated Trust offers such a limited field for yourtalents," says Old Hickory. "Only one annual dinner of the Crab Society.You organized that, I suppose?"

  "Guilty," says Brink.

  "And I understand you were responsible for the Corrugated baseball team,and are now conducting a pool tournament?" goes on Old Hickory.

  "Oh, yes," says Brink, sort of weary. "I'm not denying a thing. I waseven planning a little noonday dancing club for the stenographers. Youmay put that in the indictment if you like."

  "H-m-m-m!" says Old Hickory, scratchin' his ear. "I think that will beall, young man."

  Brink starts for the door but comes back. "Not that I mind being fired,Mr. Ellins," says he. "I don't blame you a bit for that, for I supposeI'm about the worst bond clerk in the business. I did try at first toget into the work, but it was no good. Guess I wasn't cut out for thatparticular line. So we'll both be better off. But about that He-Crab actof mine. Sounds a bit raw, doesn't it? I expect it was, too. I'd like tosay, though, that all I meant by it was to make a little fun for theboys. No personal animosity behind it, sir, even if----"

  Old Hickory waves his hand careless. "I'm beginning to get your point ofview, Hollis," says he. "The boss is always fair game, eh?"

  "Something like that," says Brink. "Still, I hate to leave with youthinking----"

  "You haven't been asked to leave--as yet," says Old Hickory. "I did haveyou slated for dismissal a half hour ago, and I may stick to it. Only myprivate secretary seemed to think I didn't know what I was doing.Perhaps he was right. I'm going to let your case simmer for a day or so.Now clear out, both of you."

  We slid through the door. "Much obliged for making the try, Torchy,"says Brink. "You had your nerve with you, I'll say."

  "Easiest thing I do, old son," says I. "Besides, his ain't a case ofingrowin' grouch, you know."

  "I was just getting that hunch myself," says Brink. "Shouldn't wonderbut he was quite a decent old boy when you got under the crust. If I wasonly of some use around the place I'll bet we'd get along fine. As itis----" He spreads out his hands.

  "Trust Old Hickory Ellins to find out whether you're any use or not,"says I. "He don't miss many tricks. If you do get canned, though, youcan make up your mind that finance is your short suit."

  Nearly a week goes by without another word from Mr. Ellins. And everynight as Brink streamed out with the advance guard at 5 o'clock he'dstop long enough at my desk to swap a grin with me and whisper: "Well, Iwon't have to break the news to Dad tonight, anyway."

  "Nor to the young lady, either," says I.

  "Oh, I had to spill it to Marjorie, first crack," says he. "She'shelping me hold my breath."

  And then here yesterday mornin', as I'm helping Old Hickory sort themail, he picks out a letter from our Western manager and slits it open.

  "Hah!" says he, through his cigar. "I think this solves our problem,Torchy."

  "Yes, sir?" says I, gawpin'.

  "Call in that young humorist of yours from the bond room," says he.

  And I yanks Brink Hollis off the high stool impetuous.

  "Know anything about industrial welfare work, young man?" demands OldHickory of him.

  "I've seen it mentioned in magazine articles," says Brink, "but that'sabout all. Don't think I ever read one."

  "So much the better," says Mr. Ellins. "You'll have a chance to start infresh, with your own ideas."

  "I--I beg pardon?" says Brink, starin' puzzled.

  "You're good at play organizing, aren't you," goes on Old Hickory."Well, here's an opportunity to spread yourself. One of themanufacturing units we control out in Ohio. Three thousand men, in alittle one-horse town where there's nothing better to do in their sparetime than go to cheap movies and listen to cheaper walking delegates. Iguess they need you more than we do in the bond room. Organize 'em asmuch as you like. Show 'em how to play. Give that He-Crab act if youwish. We'll start you in at a dollar a man. That satisfactory?"

  I believe Brink tried to say it was, only what he got out was so chokyyou could hardly tell. But he goes out beamin'.

  "Well!" says Old Hickory, turnin' to me. "I suppose he'll call thatcoming safely out of a nose dive,
eh?"

  "Or side-slippin' into success," says I. "I think you've picked anotherwinner, Mr. Ellins."

  "Huh!" he grunts. "You mean you think you helped me do it. But I wantyou to understand, young man, that I learned to be tolerant of otherpeople's failings long before you were born. Toleration. It's thekeystone of every big career. I've practiced it, too, except--well,except after a bad night."

  And then, seein' that rare flicker in Old Hickory's eyes, I gives himthe grin. Oh, sure you can. It's all in knowin' when.