Alex the Great Part 26

We are met at the door of the room by a little bald-headed guy, and Jared introduces himself. The little guy looks at us and says he presumes we are Jared's a.s.sociates--whatever that is. Before Jared can deny the charge, Alex presents him with a kick on the shins and says we are all of that.

Inside, they is a long table and four more guys sittin' at it. They all look like Wall Street and large money, and the table is covered with papers. Jared sits down and begins hummin' "Here Comes the Bride," and we sit down beside him. One guy gets up and says they have talked with five big contractors already, and they ain't made up their mind which bid to accept. If Jared can show them somethin' better than they've seen, the order is all his. Jared pulls out his watch and gets up.

"Gentlemen," he says, "I have an appointment with my future wife in five minutes. I will be on time! I don't know what these other fellows have offered to do for you, but I'll say this: We can erect your plant for exactly $1,789,451.92. That's our lowest price, and if we talked all day I couldn't take off a cent! My concern is known all over the country for the sterling quality of workmanship and materials it employs on every job, whether it's the erection of a lamp post or a city--and we've done both! We will be pleased to list you among the thousands of our satisfied patrons."

With that he reaches for his hat and would of been out of the door, if Alex hadn't held him back with a look.

"But," says one guy, "your figures are more than ten thousand dollars over your nearest compet.i.tor's. How about that?"

Jared is starin' out the window.

"I figure we can get a nice flat in the Bronx for about eighty a month," he says, half to himself. "What do you pay?" he finishes, turnin' to Alex.

Alex says nothin', and the five guys look at each other kinda funny.

"When could your firm begin work?" asks one of them.

"Immediately!" says Jared. "I'm going to use your phone here for a minute and telephone my future wife. She's downstairs waiting and will be worried sick--I said I'd be right back!" He walks across the room, while them guys all stare after him like they're in a trance themselves. "Still," mutters Jared, "she mightn't like to live in the Bronx at that!"

While he's on the phone, the five guys puts their heads together and has a whispered conference. By the time he's finished, so are they.

"Mr. Rushton," says the little guy, gettin' up and clearin' his throat, "we have decided to give you the contract. Your methods of salesmanship are somewhat unusual--but they may be due to your extreme confidence, which anybody can see is the right kind of stuff in that line and--"

The little guy goes on with a lot of talk about figures, to which Alex and me listens respectfully and Jared don't listen at all. And fin'ly the little guy says again that they're gonna give Jared the contract, and mebbe, if his future wife is waiting--

"Thanks!" says Jared. "She _is_ waiting and--"

"Shall we draw up the contract now?" b.u.t.ts in Alex. "They's a notary on this floor."

In half a hour we are down in the lobby again, havin' had to hold Jared by main force long enough to sign this thing. The first guy we b.u.mp into is his boss!

"Where have _you_ been?" he hollers at Jared. "I suppose you've botched everything all up. I'll be the laughing stock of New York!

Where are those figures for that steel contract?"

Jared looks at him for a minute like, Who is this person? Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the contract.

"Here's your old contract!" he says. "I'm going to take a month off.

I'm going to get married. When I come back I want seventy-five dollars a week to start and a job as head of the contract department. And, also--don't never yell at me like that again."

I thought his boss would die of apoplexy then and there. He stares at Jared, s.n.a.t.c.hes the contract, reads a few lines--and then I got the idea he was gonna kiss all of us!

"My boy, you're a wonder!" he says. "I always knew you had the stuff in you! I'll discuss--the--er--the matter of your salary when you come back."

"We'll finish it right now!" b.u.t.ts in Jared. "I don't want nothing worrying me while I'm on my honeymoon. Do I get that or don't I?"

"But," stammers the boss, "your commission on that contract alone will run--"

"Yes or no!" says Jared very cold.

"Yes!" says the boss, with a sigh that could be heard in Harlem. "No wonder you landed that contract if you went after them that way! I've been asleep!"

"No," says Jared, "I've been doing the dreaming."

CHAPTER VII

ART IS WRONG

Every time some guy goes over the top to notoriety and money in this movie called life, they is some 5,678,954 also rans which wags their heads from side to side and says, "Well--no wonder. He was born that way and couldn't help himself!" Then, they go back to their dub jobs and wish they was lucky.

That stuff is all wrong! A guy may be born with different color hair from the next guy, but he's never born with any secret of success that the kid in the adjoinin' crib ain't got. All you need to be born with in order to get the world familiar with your last name is the usual number of arms, legs and etc. and a mad habitual yearnin' to make good that a sudden hypodermic of success don't kill. Anything but failure is possible to a hustler, and by a hustler I don't mean one of them breezy birds which makes a lotta noise, thinks they is only one letter in the alphabet and that's the one after "H," but the guy which takes setbacks as encouragement and quits tryin' the day the undertaker is called in.

They's many a big artist whose ancestors thought paint was used for the sides of barns only, they's many a famous actor whose father figured Shakespeare was the name of a puddin', they's many a big league author come from families which confined their readin' matter to the city directory, and so it goes all along the line--Columbus's old man was a cotton picker. You don't inherit success, you take it by force, usin'

your ambition, nerve and ability as the weapons.

The above information was handed on to me by Alex. He says Broadway is too narrow and Vermont moonlight had it lookin' dark at night and he then proceeds to wed one of the prettiest girls that ever looked over the Winter Garden footlights--she makes homemade bread now, too! The first time he went to the Metropolitan Opera House he claims he'd like grand opera if they wouldn't sing and when does the acrobats come out, yet the next week he's able to take a apartment on Riverside Drive.

This here is just a few of the things Alex done to break up the dull monotony of life in a burg where that and death is mere incidents.

The wife and I is sittin' together in the parlor one night and she's knittin' a sweater for me that will prob'ly make me off her for life, whilst I'm readin' aloud to her from the only novel in which true love and the like don't win out in the end. It's called "Simpson's Universal Educator" and the subject we are on is how wet is the Pacific, or some such hot stuff as that. They is a ring at the bell and the wife grabs the book outa my hand and slings about thirty dollars' worth of wool over my arms.

[Ill.u.s.tration: She's knittin' a sweater for me that will prob'ly make me off her for life.]

"Sit up straight," she says, "and look interested in this! You're helpin' me knit--get that? Look as if you like it and the minute the door opens call me dear."

"What's the idea?" I says, sittin' there with my arms out straight and stiff before me like a doll or the like. "I don't get--"

"Sssh!" she whispers. "That's probably Ruth Hopper and her husband.

She's trying to get him to quit playing pinochle all night and she wants to show him what a ideal husband does."

"A pinochle fiend, hey?" I says. "Well, lead him on! We got a little game down at the corner and he'll just make up the set. It's gettin'

around time for me to leave anyways. I been in a half hour now and--"

Well, at that moment our charmin' maid leads in no less than Alex and his wife Eve. Speakin' of good lookers, this dame would make Morgan forget about Wall Street, and she's wearin' a dress that must of put some Fifth Avenue store over. But the wife begins bein' pleasant to gaze upon and a delight to the naked eye where Eve leaves off. Why, she's got a movie contract which she holds over my head every time I stay out till ten o'clock and the like. Them two dames in the one room is more than the average guy can stand and how they ever come to fall for a coupla guys like me and Alex is a subject for bigger brains than mine. They say women is peculiar, hey? Well, it's a good thing for the average guy that they are!

"Well!" remarks Eve, lookin' from me to the wife. "How perfectly sweet! If you two only knew what a pretty picture you make!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "How perfectly sweet! If you two only knew what pretty picture you make!"]

"Yeh," I says, gettin' up and dumpin' the near sweater on the table.

"You'd almost think we wasn't married, hey?"

"Speaking of pictures," says the wife, allowin' Alex to kiss her--a thing I loathe, "let's all go down and see 'Wronged By Mistake.' They tell me--"

"Nothin' stirrin'," I b.u.t.ts in. "I wanna see Beryldine Nearer in 'The Woman Which Lost.' She's some dame, believe me! If I was the leadin'

man in her pictures I'd work for nothin'."