You Can Search Me Part 1

You Can Search Me.

by Hugh McHugh.

CHAPTER I.

JOHN HENRY GETS A PARTNER.

"Seven weeks and then the wedding bells will get busy for you, eh, Bunch?" I chuckled.

"Surest thing you know," my old pal Jefferson replied, somewhat dolefully.

"I must dig up a few old shoes and have a plate of cold rice pudding on the doorstep," I went on. "It's going to afford me a bunch of keen delight to soak you in the midriff with a rusty patent leather and then push a few rice fritters in under your coat collar, believe me!"

Bunch tried to pull a smile, but his face didn't feel like working, and the finish was a mournful sigh.

"John," he said, after the waiter had crowded the sizz-water into the wood alcohol, "I'm a plain case of shrimp!"

"Oh, sush!" I said; "you'll get over that, Bunch. Isn't it a hit how we young fellows begin to warm wise to ourselves the moment we get a flash of the orange blossoms. We think of the beautiful little lady we are leading to the altar and then we think of the many beautiful souses we have led by the hand, and we begin to ask ourselves if we are worthy. Before we can get the right answer the preacher has dropped the flag, the ceremonies are over, and after that the struggle to supply three squares a day puts the boots to every other worry; am I right, Gonsalvo?"

"I s'pose so, John," Bunch replied, "but it isn't a case of rattles with me. I'm shy with the mazume, and it looks now as if that little trip to the minister's will have to be postponed indefinitely."

"Skidoo, skidoo, and quit me, Mr. Josheimer!" I suggested.

"I mean it, John," Bunch came back. "I can't lead a girl like Alice Grey into the roped arena of matrimony when I haven't the price of an omelette for the wedding breakfast, now can I?"

"Great Scott, Bunch, have you been Chadwicked for your roll ?" I asked. "Are you the man from Ohio that was so polite he gave his bank to the lady? If you are, it serves you right."

"No, John," Bunch answered mournfully, "but I had to go to Washington on a business trip, and while there----"

"Wait, Bunch," I chipped in; "I've got you sized. While in Washington you met a couple of wise voices who talked nothing but sure-things, so you for the Bennings race track to spill your coin, eh, Beau?"

"Well, John, I'll tell you how it was," Bunch tried to square himself. "My roll was just five thousand strong, and I began to wish for about two thousand more, so that I could take the little wife over the wild waves and point out Paris and the Riviera to her. In Washington I met a quick talker named Ike Gibson and he played me for a good, steady listener. Ike showered me with cinches and in short order I was down with Bennings fever. And then----"

"I know the answer, Bunch," I sighed, "You followed Ike's clues and finished fainting. I'm wise. But, say! Bunch, didn't you pipe me with the neck bruises often enough in the old days to profit by my experience? Didn't I go up against that horse game so hard that I shook the whole community, and aren't you on to the fact that the only sure thing about a race track is a seat on a trolley car going in the opposite direction?"

"I know, John," Bunch replied, "but this looked awfully good to me, and I went after it."

"Did they sting you for the whole bundle?" I asked.

"Not quite," Bunch answered sadly; "but they certainly put a crimp in my wallet. I'm only $1,500 strong now, and that's not enough to tip the porter on the honeymoon journey. You know, John, I'm only drawing $100 a week from the brokerage business, and I'll get nervous if I can't make up a purse quicker than that. I'll simply have to go to Alice and Uncle William Grey and get a set-back, and--say, John! I'm a polish, for fair! Alice is making all her preparations, and has her mind fastened to the date, and all that sort of thing, and like a chump I go up against that----"

"Oh, get back from the funeral, get back, Bunch!" I advised. "How often have I told you not to cut a beef about the has-happened?

You went to Bennings, got dizzy, did a couple of Arabs and lose the price of a wedding trip--that's all. Now we must get that money back before the minister steps up to start the fight."

"How can I win out $3,500 in seven weeks, I'd like to know!" Bunch moaned.

"A cincherine," I came back. "I've got a scheme cooking that will put you and me all to the splendid in short order."

"Yes, but these schemes of yours sometimes get nervous prostration," Bunch began to fret.

"Sush, now!" I said; "this is the real goods. It can't go wrong.

It's just like getting money from Carnegie. I've discovered a genius."

"A genius!" Bunch repeated; "what kind of a genius?"

"His name is Signor Beppo Petroskinski, an Illusionist," I answered. "And he's aces."

"What does he do?" asked Bunch; "spar eight rounds with the piano or sell Persian rugs?"

"Nix on the hurry talk, Bunch," I said. "Petroskinski is a discovery of mine, and he's all to the mustard. He's an Illusionist, and he can pull off some of the best tricks I ever blinked at. Say, he has Hermann and Keller and all those guys backed up in a corner yelling for help. Skinski is our mint, and we're going to take him out over the one-night stands and drag a fortune away from Mr. and Mrs. Reub."

"You mean you're going to finance a tour for this unknown magician and expect to win out? Say, John, don't let my troubles affect your brain; I'll be good and stop crying!"

"I mean, Bunch, that Skinski is the wonder of the age, and all we have to do is to show him to the public and they'll be handing us their jewelry. You know, Bunch, I'm a few chips shy myself on account of a side play which my wife knows nothing about. I promised her to make a first payment of $5,000 on that new home we're going to buy on the first of the year, and I fell down and broke my promise. I thought I could drag the homestead money away from the Street, so I took a few slices of Amalgamated Copper and burned my thumb. Old Colonel Frenzied Finance didn't do a thing to me. When I yelled for help my pocketbook looked like a last season's autumn leaf in the family Bible. Peaches isn't wise that I've lost my roll, so it's up to me to make good before she screams for a receiver."

"But this Skinski proposition," Bunch groaned; "isn't that taking a long chance? Clara J. was always bitterly opposed to you having anything to do with a theatrical venture--what will she say?"

"Peaches needn't be in on this at all," I said. "We'll simply put up a thousand each for the expense money, start Petroskinski, and after the opening night began to gather in the mazooboes. When we get all the money we need, we'll sell our interest and bow out.

It's a pipe, Bunch. I tell you, this Skinski has them all faded to a whisper. He has a bunch of new illusions that will simply make the jay audiences sit up and throw money at us. And as for sleight-of-hand and card tricks, well, say! Skinski can throw a new pack of cards up in the air and bite his initials on the queen of diamonds before it hits the floor. He's a marvel."

"Where did you find him?" Bunch inquired.

"At a club smoker," I answered. "He was the hit of the evening.

He pulled a few snake tricks down there and in five minutes he had all the members of the Highball a.s.sociation climbing the water wagon. That was the same evening I took Clara J. to the St. Regis to dinner. Did I ever tell you about it, Bunch? Well, say, it may help you to forget your troubles. It's a swell joint, all right, O.K., is the St. Regis, but hereafter me for the beanery thing with the high stool and the low prices.

"In the St. Regis the faces of the clerks and the clocks gave token that much money changed hands while it was building.

"In the lobby the furniture was covered with men about town, who sat around with a checkbook in each hand and made faces at the cash registers.

"There are more bellboys than bedrooms in the hotel. They use them for change. Every time you give the cashier $15 he hands you back $1.50 and six bellboys.

"We took a peep at the diamond-backed dining-room and when I saw the waiters refusing everything but certified checks in the way of a tip, I said to Peaches, 'This is no place for us!' But she wouldn't let go, and we filed in to the appet.i.te killery.

"A very polite lieutenant-waiter, with a sergeant-waiter and two corporal-waiters, greeted us and we gave the countersign, 'Abandon wealth, all ye who enter here.'

"Then the lieutenant-waiter and his army corps deployed by columns of four and escorted us to the most expensive looking trough I ever saw in a dining-room.

"'Peaches,' I said to my wife, 'I'm doing this to please you, but after I pay the check, it's me to file a pet.i.tion in bankruptcy.'

"But she only grinned, picked up the point-lace napkin and began to admire the onyx furniture.

"'_Que souhaitez vous_?' said the waiter, bowing so low that I could feel a chill running through my little bank account.

"'I guess he means you,' I whispered to Peaches, but she looked very solemnly at the menu card and began to bite her lips.

"'_Je suis tout a votre service_,' the waiter cross-countered before I could recover, and he had me gasping. It never struck me that I had to take a course in French before entering the St. Regis hunger foundry, and there I sat making funny faces at the tablecloth, while my wife blushed crimson and the waiter kept on bowing like an animated jack-knife.

"'Say, Mike!' I ventured after a bit; 'tip us off to a quiet bunch of eating that will fit a couple of appet.i.tes just out seeing the sights. Nothing that will put a kink in a year's income, you know, Beau; just suggest some little thing that looks better than it tastes, but is not too expensive to keep down.'