The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

FOUR SPEEDS FOR FOREST HILL. light, got some paper and began to figure. Two hours later he had prepared a demon- stration that proved his abilities were not all mechanical. - Five hundred dollars in cash, a thousand in a lease, eight or nine hundred in fittings, what Orton knew of the money market at the moment, one big ‘““X” to represent the unknown quantity of days of credit to be got out of a dozen different makers of ma- chinery and automobile parts, the wages of two mechanics and their helpers, the amount they could do per day and per hour of overtime, the amount he could add to their doing, the eagerness of the public to buy automobiles— He had juggled and re-juggled these things together so that they formed a car— twenty-five cars, in fact, to be finished and sold by the fifteenth of July, alias forty- two days from date, ~ Of course, there was still the “X.” He convinced himself, however, that he had done his figuring calmly, and with nothing but the concrete facts in mind. This left him his own. enthusiasm, still untouched. Since that was unbounded, he could draw on it indefinitely for all that was needed to bring the “X” up to the proper amount. Also there was a “ Y.”’ He could not tell how certainly he could get parts in time for the finishing of those cars. However, there is competition in all these things. Men would be loath to refuse him a small order of parts and let other men capture the large orders later on. Since “X” and “Y” could not be solved at all until other men were in their offices to talk business, Orton went back to bed. This time he went to sleep. He was up betimes in the morning. Whatever might be the effect of his en- thusiasm on “X” and “Y,” it put so much snap and spring into his movements that none would have suspected it was making ® up the deficiency between six hours’ slum- ber and what a man ought to have in forty- eight. Orton learned by telephone from a ste- nographer that Mr. Rankin of the New Jersey Gasoline Engine Company would be in at ten-fifteen. It was while he was gath- ering this fact that he noticed a man stand- ing outside the window, looking in at the Rollerton Six. The man stayed there while Orton found another number in the telephone book. Orton gave him a second look and recog- 595 nized him. He was the Mr. Jones to whom he had returned one of the twenty checks last night. As Orton gave the next number to the central operator, Mr. Jones was joined by another man. Orton could not recall his name now, but it was another of the names that had been on the checks. The two be- gan to talk together. “Yes, Mr.—I didn’t quite catch the name—Mr. Orton—this is Mr. Graves,” came to him now over the wire. ‘Why, I’m just going out, but Ill be in at a little after eleven.” “I’m afraid I can’t get there after eleven,” Orton replied. “How about this afternoon?” ‘Have to make it Monday,” came the answer. “I’m called over to New York this afternoon, and I’m going from there to Atlantic City over the week-end. Of course, if it’s just something you want to order, any one can attend to that for you here.”’ “But I want to make arrangements about terms on the order,”’ Orton explained, “and I don’t want to wait until Monday.” ‘Well, of course, I’m the only one here who could arrange anything like that. Can’t you get here around eleven-thirty?”’ “Tl try,” Orton agreed. “Tf you can, I’ll be here anyhow,” said Mr. Graves. Mr. Graves came very near to being all there was of “X.” From him Orton wished to purchase the machinery he needed for the shop. He was a jobber on a magnificent scale, from whom bargains could always be ob- tained with cash. But he was chary of credit and a total stranger to Orton and Orton’s business standing. Hardy had promised to give Arlene her first lesson at half-past eleven. Therefore he now called up the Atherton home. It was while he waited for the connection that another man stopped in front of the sales- room, studied it a moment, and then walked in. ° ‘Pardon me, are you the boss here?” he asked. ‘IT guess so,” Orton responded. ‘“Well—how soon can a man get one of those cars delivered to him?” “Oh, hello,” Orton now spoke into the transmitter. “Is Miss Atherton in?” ‘The man waited patiently for his answer. Orton did not have to wait any longer. “No, sir. . She won’t be in before one ECOPMIC OOOKS (E(0)