Part 19 (1/2)
”Listen to me!” interrupts Alex, shakin' him. ”Can't you invent some kind of a machine for turnin' them neckbands out?”
”Oh, I had a little something figured out the other night,” says Simmons, ”but what's the use of me botherin' with that? Why, a machine of that kind would cost at least twenty thousand dollars to make!
Where can I get that much money?”
”Look here!” Alex tells him. ”You got seven and I'll loan you the balance. You get busy on that machine right away--there's no time to lose!” He grabs his hat. ”Come with me and I'll get you the money and then we'll go to my lawyer and draw up a--that is, I'll take your receipt.”
That's the last I seen of either of them for a month. At the end of that time, the wife tells me one day that Mr. and Mrs. Simmons is givin' a big dinner that night and that Alex will be there. They'll never notice us no more, if we don't come. Besides, they're goin' for a trip around the country in a few days and this here's a farewell party.
Well, it's a soup and fish affair, and naturally it takes the wife half the night to get dressed up for it. Fin'ly, however, she's dressed to thrill and we blowed in. The minute we did, Simmons pulls me over in a corner where Alex is sittin', smilin' like his name was George Q.
Goodhumor.
”Well, sir!” says Simmons, no longer shy and retirin', ”I just about cleaned up. My machine is turnin' out three thousand bands an hour, and I get a cent for each and every one!”
”You fin'ly doped out a machine then, heh?” I says.
”Oh, yes!” he tells me. ”But unfortunately I don't control it. I have to pay the owner for each band turned out, although it's my invention.
But I'm satisfied! I got a bonus of twenty-five thousand dollars from the Brown-Calder people for selling them the exclusive rights to use the neckband, and then we have the foreign rights to--”
”Wait!” I cuts in, turnin' to Alex. All this big money talk was makin'
me dizzy. ”Where do _you_ get off?” I asks him.
”Well, I put the neckband over, didn't I?” he says.
”Yes,” I admits, ”but Simmons invented it and he gets the royalty. How much cash did he give you?”
”Nothing!” grins Alex.
I looked at Simmons.
”Perfectly correct!” he says, outgrinnin' Alex.
”You--did all that for _nothin'_ I hollers, not believin' my ears.
”Well, hardly that,” says Alex, lightin' a half-dollar cigar. ”You see I loaned Mister Simmons thirteen thousand dollars, if you remember, so that he could make his machine.”
”Yeh, yeh!” I says, gettin' impatient. ”And--”
”Well, as it stands now,” says Alex, ”every time the machine turns out a neckband, he gets a cent out of the two and a half cents profit.”
”Sure--he told me that!” I says. ”But where do _you_ get off?”
Alex grins some more.
”I own the machine!” he says. ”Have a cigar, cousin?”
CHAPTER V
YOU CAN DO IT!