Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated) (436 page)

He was a silent young man and this was probably the longest speech he had ever made in his life.

“You are a fool!” grunted his father. But he knew Pan-e-troon, and opening his purse he took out a new silver quarter.

“Spend it carefully,” he said.” Buy me some tobacco. And bring back what change there is.”

Pan-e-troon bowed again.

“I shall indeed, Old Wise One.”

*****

He hurried back to his igloo for a small cache of money of his own — a. quarter, two dimes, and two pennies. The fortune jingled together pleasantly in his hand, where indeed he must hold it, for he wore the costume of the Arctic Circle. This was not as oppressive as it sounds in Chicago of a late October afternoon, for it had been especially made of the lightest skins for the purpose of display at the Fair.

He hesitated between his fur cap and a new straw hat which an admirer had given him, finally deciding on the latter.

Then he slipped the money into the top of “a moccasin, and once more shouting” Scram!” at the dogs who were leaping at the line of fish, he walked out of the Eskimo village into the pleasance.

Immediately he had a following. Pan-e-troon was grown used to strange eyes, however, and they did not disturb him. He felt quite at ease, quite a part of the crowd, in his new straw hat, and he wished he had borrowed his father’s new spectacles for additional decoration.

Walking through the rapidly disappearing midway, past Spaniards, Dutchmen, Mexicans, Chinese villagers (between whom and the Eskimos there was some strange jealousy of exhibitionism), Pan-e-troon reached Michigan Boulevard. He was happy, he was excited. He stopped now and then to stare into shop windows, but they held such a surfeit of charms as to be confusing. So with lingering sighs he went on in the direction of atall building which he knew as one of the city’s great department stores. He had gone through it with the other Eskimos several months before as part of a bus tour of the city.

First, though, he would get the tobacco of the Old Wise One off his mind, and he turned into a shop with pipes in the window.

The perspiring man in charge gave him immediate attention. Several men lounging in the store stared at him.

Pan-e-troon beamed. He had never made a purchase in America by himself.

“I give you something,” he announced, “and you give
me
something.”

The salesman glanced at the others and then back at Pan-e-troon.

“That’s all right with me, brother. What do you want to give me?”

Pan-e-troon’s grin grew wider.

“You not understand. I give
you
something — “

One of the lounging men helped out with:

“He wants to give you his straw hat, George.”

“Well, I wish he’d make up his mind. I’ve got ‘bout ten degrees hotter since
he
come in here.”

Pan-e-troon shook his head regretfully but still smiled. Then he reached down into his moccasin and held out money.

“Here!” he said. triumphantly.” I give you
this
— you give me
that.
”

He pointed at the row of cans behind the man.

“Pipe tobacco?”

Pan-e-troon nodded.

“What kind?” The salesman named a few brands.

“One,” said Pan-e-troon.” I give you something, you give me something.”

*****

The salesman, unresourceful by nature, gave up. The man who had spoken came behind the counter to his assistance.

“Now, Robinson Crusoe, we got vely mely kinds, savvy?” He put several cans on the counter.” This is a dime; this is a quarter; this is imported, two dollars a pound. How much do you want to spend?”

Pan-e-troon looked at the array.

“One.”

“All right. How much you got?” Pan-e-troon showed his money.” I guess you want the cheapest kind. This is a good dime tobacco.”

“No more cheap, eh?” inquired Pan-e-troon.

“No more cheap.”

“Much ‘blige.”

“All right. Don’t set yourself on fire or melt down your house. Good-by.”

“Good-by. I give you something — “

“I understand, and I give you something. All clear — even a banker could understand it.”

Pan-e-troon proceeded along Michigan Boulevard toward the department store. He had made a purchase by himself — his heart glowed. Now he could get what he wanted. Reaching the store, he walked through the busy shuffle, looking at the counters and buying copies of Real Sleuths and Gangsters’ Secrets, his favorite magazines. His true desire was on an upper floor, but his eye was caught suddenly by an object on a counter. It was a lady — at least it was part of a lady — and she stood on a little pedestal with a short cape over her shoulders; her eyes were a bright blue and she had golden hair, Pan-e-troon beamed at her. Gently he touched her shoulder and then spoke to the saleswoman:

“I give you — “

Half hearing him, she looked at the tag on the cape and said:

“Two fifty-nine.”

“What say?”

“Two dollars and fifty-nine cents.”

He shook his head regretfully and passed on.

On the occasion of the bus tour the Eskimos had mounted by elevator and moving stairway; but he could find neither, so he walked up a flight and made the same thorough inspection of all the aisles. Luckily the department he sought was on the third floor — he recognized it immediately with a feeling of delight. It was the toy department.

“I want to buy airplane,” he said to a saleswoman.

She confronted the strange spectacle with a start.

“You mean these toy ones, don’t you? I remember now — you were all in here a few weeks ago.”

She wound an elastic motor on a model and sent the model flier soaring around the room. Pan-e-troon watched in rapture.

“How much I give?” he asked.

“These?. They are ninety-nine cents, marked down from a dollar fifty.”

Ruefully Pan-e-troon surveyed his money.

“No can,” he said. “ Not give for this?”

“No, not give for that.”

Though sorely disappointed, he met the debacle with a smile, as if it were the greatest joke in the world, and turned away. But something about him touched the woman.

*****

“Look here, you. If that’s all the money you got you’ll get the most out of it at the five-and-ten. They may have little models, smaller than this.”

“Five-and-ten?” he repeated blankly.

“There’s one just around the corner.” She called a bundle boy.” Earl, will you take this — this Eskimo around to the five-and-ten? He don’t get the idea.”

Earl eyed Pan-e-troon resentfully.

“Me be seen on the street with
that!
”

“Don’t be yourself
all
the time — I’ll fix it with Mr. Richards. Now, monseer, or whatever you call yourself, go along with this boy and he’ll fix you up.”

Presently he was deposited at the swarming entrance of the emporium. But he had hardly begun his wandering when his attention was caught by a counter piled high with locks of all kinds — padlocks, door locks, safety locks, tire locks — and he gave out a grunt of delight as he approached it.

Locks were his passion — in early boyhood he had come into possession of one from off a Russian steamer that had broken up on the ice. Toys were nonexistent, and he spent many an hour taking the lock apart and putting it together. Later a missionary gave him another, and another wreck yielded up a few more. This mechanical passion was entirely theoretical, due to the absence of doors on igloos; but the chests which his party had brought south were so thoroughly sealed that only Pan-e-troon, using twisted lengths of wire, was able to open them.

He bought a lock. He could have bought ‘three with his remaining money, but he knew very well which were cheaply made and which were not.

He did not visit the toy department — he was too anxious to return to the Fair and take apart his new acquisition. He was happy — he had an urge to be borne somewhere, to be wafted about. He would take a ride in a trolley.

He rode for an hour, proud and happy. He gave the conductor five cents and the conductor gave him a ride; then he gave the conductor another five cents and the conductor gave him more of a ride.

Then in a traffic tangle at a crossing Pan-e-troon found his eyes fixing themselves with increasing interest outside the window.

*****

In a glittering underslung open car sat a girl. She was probably, not merely in his imagination, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life — a ripply blonde who, had it been necessary, could have posed for any of those exquisite creatures in the advertisements. Her eyes were a little worried; so was her mouth.

Beside her was a morose-looking young man; but Pan-e-troon scarcely looked at the young man.

“She is a chief’s daughter,” he said to himself.” Doubtless the daughter of one of the greatest chiefs of all — ruler of one of the great trading posts.”

Pan-e-troon sighed as the jam broke and the car started forward. Now he began ruminating instead of gazing. Home seemed very far away, very vast and white — but not as white as that girl’s forehead. It was becoming plain to him this afternoon that he was not looking forward to going back.

After half an hour when he had concluded that it was time to be getting off, he saw the same car again. It was stopped by the side of the road, and the young man was in the act of removing one of the great bulbous tires — the girl leaning over the side and watching. The trolley clanged past, but before the next corner Pan-e-troon was on his feet, shouting:

“I out! Here I go out!”

On the corner Pan-e-troon waited until the trolley was out of sight. Then he walked back casually in the direction of the automobile.

He walked so quietly on his moccasins that not until he was beside the motor did the girl perceive him. She gave a sudden little gasp and the young man looked up, broke off his work, and stared.

“What is it?” the girl whispered.” It’s almost an Eskimo.”

“Well, what’s he doing down here?”

“Look! He’s got on a straw hat.”

Pan-e-troon put his hands behind his back and beamed.

“I wonder if he knows anything about tires,” the young man said.” Maybe he could stuff the hole with blubber or something, what?”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me, Westgate. I keep my word.” She lowered her voice.” But evidently this polar number is going to stick around.”

The polar number was. When presently the wheel came off with a whirring wrench and went bouncing down the inclined street, Pan-e-troon tore after it, retrieved it, and brought it back to the car.

“Much ‘blige,” he said proudly.

“Don’t mention it,” said Edith Cary.” Where do you come from?”

“I from Lapland.”

“What are you doing so far from home?”

“Worl’sfair,” he explained.

“Then what are you doing way out here?” she pursued.

“See Chicago,” he explained.” Eskimo village go Lapland tomorrow.”

At this moment a coupe drew up beside Edith’s car. At the wheel sat a ruddy man of forty with a bristling mustache.

Edith frowned just faintly, and Pan-e-troon, unableto take his eyes from her, remarked upon the fact.

“Well, why the stop?” said the newcomer.

“We had a blowout.”

The newcomer looked from Edith to the young man suspiciously.

“Well, as long as you’re keeping your promise — as long as you’re not letting him work on you.”

“Humphrey, shut up!” said Edith impatiently.” By the way, since you’re one of the executives of the Fair, you’ll enjoy meeting Mr. — “ She turned to the observer. “What’s your name?”

“Name Pan-e-troon. That mean — “

“Mr. Pan-e-troon. He’s in your show, Humphrey, and he’s seeing the sights of our city.”

“My God, how did he get off the reservation? We have more trouble rounding up these exhibits — they wander around and get fleeced and then we’re to blame.”

“I’m not going to fleece him, Humphrey. He has such beautiful fleece.”

She felt a sympathy for the stranger in his wandering, but her sudden frown was not caused by that.

“Speaking of exhibits,” she said,” I thought you were going to hold the — you know what — until the family get back.”

“Well, that’s tomorrow, isn’t it? And the Fair’s over.”

“But I’ve no place to keep it — no combination for the safe. Since father lent it to the Fair, it seems to me it isn’t much to ask — “

“I’ll be staying at your house tonight — anyhow I wouldn’t talk about it.” Humphrey Deering glanced at Pan-e-troon.” You never can tell what disguises crooks will get up nowadays.”

“Oh, no.” Edith smiled at the Eskimo.” Mr. Troon’s all right — in fact, I’ve taken a fancy to him.”

The young man jacked the car down and put away the tools. Humphrey Deering’s eyes fell on him unfavorably.

“You follow me out,” he said.” But it seems to me that a man who once aspired to your hand would have more pride than to — “

“I had no place to go,” declared Westgate, unperturbed. “ I arrived here this morning without a dollar.”

“Anyhow, he’s a sort of cousin,” said Edith.

But Humphrey Deering pursued stubbornly:

“In view of what he did “ — he hesitated as Westgate flushed — “ you ought to be chaperoned.”

“Anything to please,” said Edith. She turned to Pan-e-troon.” Would you like to go to a big house in the country to spend the night?”

“Good Lord!” exclaimed Humphrey.

“I told you I’d taken a fancy to him.”

“Well, don’t put him in the doghouse — unless you want to start a distemper epidemic. He’s probably worn those skins all summer.”

*****

Pan-e-troon caught the gist of this and said indignantly:” These skins all clean. My father shoot; my aunt sew; I make clean.”

Humphrey started his motor impatiently. With little difficulty Edith persuaded Pan-e-troon into the rumble seat.