A Cool Million (8 page)

“Here, let me help you,” said the
owner of the eye kindly. With a few deft motions he soon had it fixed in its
proper receptacle.

“Perfect!” exclaimed the man,
standing back and admiring his handiwork. “Perfect! You’re hired!”

He then reached into his overcoat
and brought forth a wallet from which he extracted a five-dollar bill and a
calling card. He laid both of these on the bench beside the one-eyed man, who
by now had again become a quiescent bundle of greasy rags.

“Get yourself a haircut, a bath and
a big meal, then go to my tailors, Ephraim Pierce and
Sons,
and they will fit you out with clothes.
When you are
presentable, call on me at the Ritz Hotel.”

With these words, the man in the
gray fedora turned sharply on his heel and left the park.

If you have not already guessed the
truth, dear reader, let me acquaint you with the fact that the bundle of rags
contained our hero,
Lemuel
Pitkin. Alas, to such a
sorry pass had he come.

After the unfortunate termination of
Shagpoke’s
attempt to recruit men for his “Leather Shirts,”
he had rapidly gone from bad to worse. Having no money and no way in which to
obtain any, he had wandered from employment agency to employment agency without
success. Reduced to eating from garbage pails and sleeping in empty lots, he
had become progressively shabbier and weaker, until he had reached the
condition we discovered him in at the beginning of this chapter.

But now things were looking up
again, and just in time I must admit, for our hero had begun to doubt whether
he would ever make his fortune.

Lem
pocketed the five dollars that the stranger had left and examined the card.

ELMER HAINEY, ESQUIRE RITZ HOTEL

This was all the bit of engraved
pasteboard said. It gave no evidence of either the gentleman’s business or
profession. But this did not in any way bother
Lem
,
for at last it looked as though he were going to have a job; and in the year of
our Lord
nineteen
thirty-four that was indeed
something.

Lem
struggled to his feet and set out to follow Mr.
Hainey’s
instructions. In fact he ate two large meals and took two baths. It was only
his New England training that prevented him from getting two haircuts.

Having done as much as he could to
rehabilitate his body, he next went to the shop of Ephraim Pierce and Sons,
where he was fitted out with a splendid wardrobe complete in every detail.
Several hours later, he walked up Park Avenue to wait on his new employer,
looking every inch a prosperous young businessman of the finest type.

When
Lem
asked for Mr.
Hainey
, the manager of the Ritz bowed
him into the elevator, which stopped to let him off at the fortieth floor. He
rang the doorbell of Mr.
Hainey’s
suite and in a few
minutes was ushered into that gentleman’s presence by an English personal
servant.

Mr.
Hainey
greeted the lad with great cordiality. “Excellent!
Excellent
’,”
he repeated three or four times in rapid succession as he inspected the
transformed appearance of our hero.

Lem
expressed his gratitude by a deep bow.

“If there is anything about your
outfit that you dislike,” he went on to say, “
please
tell me now before I give you your instructions.”

Emboldened by his kind manner,
Lem
ventured an objection. “Pardon me, sir,” he said, “but
the eye, the glass eye you gave me is the wrong color. My good eye is
blue-gray, while the one you provided me with is light green.”

“Exactly,” was Mr.
Hainey’s
surprising
answer.
“The
effect is, as I calculated, striking. When anyone sees you I want to make sure
that they notice that one of your eyes is glass.”

Lem
was
forced to agree to this strange idea and he did so with all the grace he could
manage.

Mr.
Hainey
then got down to business. His whole manner changed, becoming as cold as a
steel trap and twice as formal.

“My secretary,” he said, “has typed
a set of instructions which I will give you tonight. I want you to take them
home and study them carefully, for you will be expected to do exactly as they
order without the slightest deviation. One slip, please remember, and you will
be immediately discharged.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied
Lem
. “I understand.”

“Your salary,” said Mr.
Hainey
, softening a bit, “will be thirty dollars a week and
found. I have arranged room and board for you at the
Warford
House. Please go there tonight.”

Mr.
Hainey
then took out his wallet and gave
Lem
three ten-dollar
bills.

“You are very generous,” said
Lem
, taking them. “I shall do my utmost to satisfy you.”

“That’s nice, but please don’t show
too much zeal, simply follow instructions.”

Mr.
Hainey
next went to his desk and took from it several typewritten sheets of paper. He
gave these to
Lem
.

“One more thing,” he said, shaking
hands at the door, “you may be a little mystified when you read your
instructions, but that cannot be helped, for I am unable to give you a complete
explanation at this time. However, I want you to know that I own a glass eye
factory, and that your duties are part of a sales-promotion campaign.”

Lem
restrained his curiosity. He waited until he was safely ensconced in his new
quarters in the
Warford
House before opening the
instructions Mr.
Hainey
had given him.

Here is what he read:

“Go to the jewelry store of Hazelton
Freres
and ask to see their diamond stickpins. After
looking at one tray, demand to see another. While the clerk has his back
turned, remove the glass eye from your head and put it in your pocket. As soon
as the clerk turns around again, appear to be searching frantically on the
floor for something.

“The following dialogue will then
take place:

“Clerk: ‘Have you lost something,
sir?’

“You: ‘Yes, my eye.’
( Here
indicate the opening in your head with your index
finger.)

“Clerk: ‘That’s unfortunate, sir. I’ll
help you look, sir.’

“You: ‘Please do.
(With
much agitation.)
I must find it.’

“A thorough search of the premises
is then made, but of course the missing eye cannot be found because it is safe
in your pocket.

“You: Please may I see one of the
owners of this store; one of the Hazelton Brothers?’
( Note
:
Freres
means brothers and is not to be mistaken for
the storekeeper’s last name.)

“In a few minutes the clerk will
bring Mr. Hazelton from his office in the rear of the store.

“You: ‘Mr. Hazelton, sir, I have had
the misfortune to lose my eye here in your shop.’

“Mr. Hazelton: Perhaps you left it
at home.’

“You: ‘Impossible! I would have felt
the draft for I walked here from.
Mr. Hamilton Schuyler’s
house on Fifth Avenue.
No, I’m afraid that it was in its proper position
when I entered your place.’

“Mr. Hazelton: ‘You can be certain,
sir, that we will make a thorough search.’

“You: ‘Please do. I am, however, unable
to wait the outcome of your efforts. I have to be in the Spanish embassy to see
the ambassador, Count
Raymon
de Guzman y
Alfrache
( the
y is pronounced
like the e in eat) within the hour.’

“Mr. Hazelton will bow profoundly on
hearing with
whom
your appointment is.

“You (continuing): ‘The eye I have
lost is irreplaceable. It was made for me by a certain German expert, and cost
a very large sum. I cannot get another because its maker was killed in the late
war and the secret of its manufacture was buried with him.
(
Pause
for a brief moment, bowing your head as though in sorrow for the
departed expert.) However
( you
continue), please tell
your clerks that I will pay one thousand dollars as a reward to anyone who
recovers my eye.’

“Mr. Hazelton: ‘That will be
entirely unnecessary, sir. Rest assured that we will do everything in our power
to discover it for you.’

“You: ‘Very good. I am going to
visit friends on Long Island tonight, but I will be in your shop tomorrow. If
you have the eye, I will insist on paying the reward.’

“Mr. Hazelton will then bow you out
of the shop.

“Until you receive further
instructions from Mr.
Hainey
, you are to stay away
from the near vicinity of Hazelton
Freres
.

“On the day following your visit to
the shop call the Ritz Hotel and ask for Mr.
Hainey’s
secretary. Tell him whether or not everything went off in accordance with these
instructions. The slightest deviation on the part of Mr. Hazelton from the
prescribed formula must be reported.”

Lem’s
job
was a sinecure. He had merely to enact the same scene over one morning a week,
each time in a different store. He soon had his part by heart, and once he had
lost his embarrassment over having to say that he knew the Spanish Ambassador,
he quite enjoyed his work. It reminded him of the amateur theatricals he had
participated iii at the Ottsville High School.

Then, too, his position permitted
him a great deal of leisure. He used this spare time to good advantage by
visiting the many interesting spots for which New York City is justly famous.

He also made an unsuccessful attempt
to find Mr. Whipple. At the Salvation Army post they told him that they had
observed Mr. Whipple lying quietly in the gutter after the meeting of the “Leather
Shirts,” but that when they looked the next day to see if he were still there
they found only a large blood stain.
Lem
looked
himself but failed even to find this stain, there being many cats in the
neighborhood.

He was a sociable youth and quickly
made friends with several of the other guests of the
Warford
House. None of them were his age, however, so that he was pleased when a young
man named Samuel Perkins spoke to him.

Sam worked in a furnishing goods
store on lower Broadway. He was very fond of dress and indulged in a variety of
showy neckties, being able to get them at reduced rates.

“What line are you in?” he asked our
hero in the lobby one evening while they were waiting for the supper bell to
ring.

“I’m in the glass business,”
Lem
answered cautiously, for he had been warned not to explain
his duties to anyone.

“How much do you get?” was the
forward youth’s next question.

“Thirty dollars a week and found,”
said
Lem
, honestly.

“I get thirty-five without keep, but
it’s too little for me. A man can’t live on that kind of money, what with the
opera once a week and decent clothes. Why, my carfare alone comes to over a
dollar, not counting taxicabs.”

“Yes, it must be rather a tight
squeeze for you,” said
Lem
with a smile as he thought
of all the large families who lived on smaller incomes than Mr. Perkins’.

“Of course,” Sam went on, “the folks
at home allow me another ten dollars a week. You see the old gent has money.
But I tell you it sure melts away in this town.”

“No doubt,” said
Lem
.
“There are a good many ways to spend money here.”

“Suppose we go to the theater
tonight?”

“No,”
Lem
replied, “I’m not as fortunate as you are. I have no wealthy father to fall
back on and must save the little I earn.”

“Well, then,” said Sam, for that
youth could not live without excitement of some sort, “what do you say we visit
Chinatown? It’ll only cost us carfare.”

To this proposition
Lem
readily agreed. “I’d like very much to go,” he said. “Perhaps
Mr. Warren would like to join us.”

Mr. Warren was another guest whose
acquaintance
Lem
had made.

“What, that crank!” exclaimed Sam,
who was by way of being somewhat of a snob. “He’s soft in his upper story.
Pretends that he’s literary and writes for the magazines.”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

“Very likely, but did you ever see
such shabby neckties as he wears?”

“He hasn’t your advantages for
getting them,” said
Lem
with a smile, for he knew
where the young man worked.