The All-Story, March 1914 — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

612 atlination finished, approached Paul during an idle moment. “Who taught you bookkeeping, Mr. Baird?” he asked indifferently. Nobody.” The other regarded Paul curiously for a moment. * Ever have any trouble finding your trial balances? ”’ “Trial balances? What are trial balances?’ asked Paul bewildered. “Look here, Mr. Baird,” said the ‘other with asperity, “if you and Boughton are playing a practical joke on me, please stop it. No one could keep a set of books as perfect as yours and not know what a trial balance is. Now what's the answer?” “What has Mr. Boughton been tell- ing your” “Your story—and it’s a queer one T must say. But I’m interested, and I wish you would answer me one or two questions.” “ Be glad to. .Go ahead.” “Well, first, do you recall ever hav- ing worked with a set of books before your accident? ”’ “No, absolutely.” “Has any one discussed bookkeep- ing with you since you_have been on the island?” “No, everything vou see in those ledgers I have worked out for myself, thinking it was just plain. cormmon sense.” The auditor stared at Baird in won- derment. “You're a genius all right,” he said under his breath, and probed for fur- ther information. “How much does Boughton pav you?” he inquired after considerable friendly talk. “Five dollars a week.” “Good Lord! Strike him for ten. Hell pay it and think he’s getting off cheap. He told me you had almost doubled his summer business! “Thanks,” said Paul quietly, a shrewd gleam in lis eve, “ I will. And now that you have done me one favor, Mr. Burke, I am going to ask vou to THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. do me another. I want vou to look at something I have been working on oc- casionally all winter. But first you must give me your word of honor nic to mention it to a soul.” “Bring out a Bible and I'll take oath,” declared Burke seriously, and Paul, satisfied, led him round behind the counter to the bookkeeping cage. Unlocking a drawer he drew out a few sheets of dirty bristol board on which were drawn the outlines of a piece of mechanism. ‘The auditor laughed aloud when Paul explained to him that these were the rough sketches for a machine that would divide the labor of ordinary bookkeeping by half and almost eliminate its greatest de- fect — inaccuracy resulting from hu- man brain-fag or carelessness. But Paul had not been talking five minutes before Burke ceased to laugh and bent over the plans with keen interest. “It’s feasible and practicable,” he announced at last; “ but not in its pres ent state.” Then he went into detail, declaring certain features to be impossible in the face of modern bookkeeping methods, and others to be unnecessary. “Overcome the points I mention and you're on the road to possibility,” said Burke when the plans were again locked in the drawer. ‘*' Then com- nitnicate with me. You'll need a pat. ent lawyer, and some one to make a workable model if yours isn't satisfac: tory. Youre a remarkable man, Baird, and I want to do all I can to help vou, but—wait a minute,”’ as Paul seemed about to speak. “I say that under one condition.” “Yes."—~Paul had been expecting this. * And that is that, when you have pertected your invention, and_ have used me to every possible advantage, you will let me in on the ground floor of the manufacturing company. Your inachine, if it lives up to its promise, will almost do away with human at diting, and I should like to provide tor my old age.” comnichooks.co