Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

THE AMERICAN SYNDICATE. ing emergency in the presence of some business adversary, he put his cigar be- tween his teeth, lit it, and stalked into the main office. ** Mike,” he said savagely. “Si, senor?” responded the secre- tary, looking up with an air of expect- ant docility. Joe thrust his hands into his trousers’ pocket, stood before his wondering secretary, and addressed him in Eng- lish: ‘ Mike,” he said, “I never came so near to becoming an idiot in my life. It’s a most extraordinary situation, Mike, and if you are wise you will take an example of your employer, and never get into anything like it. As you value your success in life, Mike, my boy, keep your eyes open when busi- ness men are around, and shut them as tight as an oyster when anybody else ts looking at you, and, Mike, one other thing, eschew music. You hear me? It’s a dangerous article. If you want to succeed in business, you keep as far away from music as you can. If you will let yourself be dragged into society, Mike, stuff your ears with cotton. Un- derstand? ”’ “ Si, senor,” answered Mike, uncom- fortably. There was a look something like fear in his eyes, and he shifted uneasily in his chair, as if he were inclined to run away. Joe laughed. “It’s all right, my friend,” he said, reverting to Spanish, “I was simply easing my mind a bit. I want you to tell me something.” “‘ Si, senor,” and this time there was unmistakable relief in the secretary’s tone. “Aren’t you related to Don Oc-’ tavio’ ” asked Joe abruptly. The secretary’s face flushed and his look of embarrassment returned. “Why, it’s all right if you are,” ex- claimed Joe. “I’m glad of it. I only asked out of curiosity. How close is ““- ~-Jationship, any way? ” Oi ‘“T am second cousin to the don,” was the stammering reply. “Well, that’s not close enough to count very much, I should think, but still, it puts you in touch with the fam- ily, I suppose.” | ‘‘My mother and I are invited to dine there once a year,” said Mike, in a low tone. “ Humph!” muttered Joe, looking sharply at his secretary, who cast his eyes down. Joe’s curiosity was aroused, but he thought it best not to pursue his inquiry in that direction any further at the pres- ent. It amused him a little that the don should have foisted a relative upon him, and he wondered if it were a de- liberate bit of Spanish shrewdness. It mattered little whether it was or not, for Joe felt not only confident that he would be equal to any exigency arising from such a situation, but that, with his secretary’s ignorance of English, it would be mere child’s play to keep the fatal secrets of the syndicate where they belonged. “TI spent last evening there,” went on Joe, “ and met a young man whose name was Victor something.” “T know him,” said the secretary. ‘ He has the same family name as Don Octavio. He is the affanced husband of Senorita Sylvia.” ‘That means that he is engaged to be married to her, doesn’t it? ” “ Certainly, senor.” “Ts it a love match? ” “How should I know, senor?” and the secretary looked his mild astonish- nient at the question. “ Such matters are atranged by the parents m Porto Rico, you know.” “I had forgotten it,” said Joe dryly. ‘“ Now, Mike,” and he suddenly became the brisk business man again, “ I have been wasting valuable time gossiping. We must get to work.” ‘ Si, senor,” said the secretary, rising and reaching for his hat. “ That’s right,” observed Joe, ap- provingly. “I'll tell eoniiciee| © N eo