Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

go secretary, who seemed to be a very model of faithfulness, was there ahead of him. | Joe bade him good morning and asked if there were any mail, quite as if he had been established in business for a year, and were in the habit of receiv- ing a dozen letters a day. Of course there was no mail, and after fussing over the papers on his desk for a mo- ment, Joe sought the seclusion of the back room. In that safe solitude, he asked himself with unreserved frank- ness why he was burdening himself with all these fearful business risks. ‘What are you doing it for, Joe?” was his silent question. “Are you taking the chances of a terrific fall, sim- ply because you have become a positive glutton as regards money? What will the successful overreaching of these ice cream dealers amount to? Money, of course, but is that enough? What is money for?” Preliminary to an answer to this question, Joe gave himself a raking comparison with other young men who had started upon the struggle of life at the same time he did. Hardly one could he recall who was not animated by a desire for something more than the mere possession of wealth. One or two of them had ar- tistic tastes to subserve. Others se- cretly nourished ambitions for political preferment which they believed would be attained more readily from the van- tage ground of material possessions than without them. Some of the fellows had acquired a college education at the expense of in- debtedness which they were honorably bound to discharge as soon as possible. It was in this order that Joe thought of the reasons that incited his former companions to business activity. That 1s, it was an inverse order relative to the importance of the incentive. For last in the list, as Joe thought it over, came the most powerful incentive of all, the desire to be established in a com- fortable home. THE ARGOSY. ‘ That’s it,” said Joe to himself stern- ly, after he had dodged the issue for several minutes, “ nine out of ten of the fellows were engaged to be married, or if they hadn’t got so far as an engage- ment, they wanted to be, which is much the same thing.” Then across his memory came the vague visions he had himself once cher- ished as to what his home should be. It was nothing short of a palace; in fact, very early in his career Joe had recognized that the surroundings that he wanted for himself were so extrav- agantly luxurious.as to be substantially out of reach, even to his hopeful im- agination. The contentment of a cot- tage had never occurred to him as a possibility, and what he must have in his home was so far beyond the bounds of reasonable expectations that he had never felt the influence of such a con- summation upon his endeavors. “What should I want of a home, any way?” he asked himself, with stub- born unwillingness to admit that a new element was knocking at the door of his life. “ Isn’t the best that a civilized hotel can offer good enough for me? With the money that I expect to make, can’t I get membership in the best ap- pointed clubs? What is money for, then? Why! for the power that it gives.” For a moment that answer satisfied him, and he felt a little glow of energy as an indication that he was triumphing over his depression. Then, shut his eyes to it though he would, there came before him a vision of lustrous eyes flashing messages of mischievous 1m- port, and across his stubborn dreams of wealth there floated the strains of a quaint song. What had become of the power of this back room to restore his equanim- ity? Was it impossible for him to keep his mind set upon the problems he had undertaken? Of course it was not. Mechanically his hand sought his cigar case, and, as was his habit when meeting a Sra efor < eo