Volume VIII Part 27 (1/2)

”Oh yes,” said the Idiot. ”I'm in with several of 'em--way in. So far in that I'm sometimes afraid I'll never get out. We're carrying a whole lot of wild-cats on margin for Billie Van Gelder, the cotillion leader; Tommy de Cahoots, the famous yachtsman, owes us about $8,000 more than he can spare from his living expenses on one of his plunges into Copper, and altogether we are pretty long on swells in our office.”

”And do you mean to say those people invite you out?” asked the Bibliomaniac.

”All the time,” said the Idiot. ”Just as soon as one of our swell customers finds he can't pay his margins he comes down to the office and gets very chummy with all of us. The deeper he is in it the more affable he becomes. The result is there are house-parties and yacht cruises and all that sort of thing galore on tap for us every summer.”

”And you accept them, eh?” said the Bibliomaniac scornfully.

”As a matter of business, of course,” replied the Idiot. ”We've got to get something out of it. If one of our customers can't pay cash, why we get what we can. In this particular case Mr. Reginald Squandercash had me down at Newport for five full days, and I know now why he can't pay up his little shortage of $800. He's got the money, but he needs it for other things, and now that I know it I shall recommend the firm to give him an extension of thirty days. By that time he will have collected from the De Boodles, whom he is launching in society--C. O. D.--and will be able to square matters with us.”

”Your conversation is Greek to me,” said the Bibliomaniac. ”Who are the De Boodles, and for what do they owe your friend Reginald Squandercash money?”

”The De Boodles,” explained the Idiot, ”are what is known as Climbers, and Reginald Squandercash is a Booster.”

”A what?” cried the Bibliomaniac.

”A Booster,” said the Idiot. ”There are several Boosters in the 400. For a consideration they will boost wealthy Climbers into Society. The Climbers are people like the De Boodles, who have suddenly come into great wealth, and who wish to be in it with others of great wealth who are also of high social position. They don't know how to do the trick, so they seek out some Booster like Reggie, strike a bargain with him, and he steers 'em up against the 'Among Those Present' Game until finally you find the De Boodles have a social cinch.”

”Do you mean to say that Society tolerates such a business as that?”

demanded the Bibliomaniac.

”Tolerates?” laughed the Idiot. ”What a word to use! Tolerates? Why, Society encourages, because Society shares the benefits. Take this especial vacation of mine. Society had two five-o'clock teas, four of the swellest dinners you ever sat down to, a cotillion where the favors were of solid silver and real ostrich feathers, a whole day's clam-bake on Reggie's steam yacht, with automobile runs and coaching trips galore.

n.o.body ever declines one of Reggie's invitations, because what he has from a Society point of view is the best the market affords. Why, the floral decorations alone at the _Fete Champetre_ he gave in honor of the De Boodles at his villa last Thursday night must have cost $5,000, and everything was on the same scale. I don't believe a cent less than $7,500 was burned up in the fire-works, and every lady present received a souvenir of the occasion that cost at least $100.”

”Your story doesn't quite hold together,” said Mr. Brief. ”If your friend Reggie has a villa and a steam yacht, and automobiles and coaches, and gives _fetes champetres_ that cost fifteen or twenty thousand dollars, I don't see why he has to make himself a Booster of inferior people who want to get into Society. What does he gain by it?

It surely isn't sport to do a thing like that, and I should think he'd find it a dreadful bore.”

”The man must live,” said the Idiot. ”He boosts for a living.”

”When he has the wealth of Monte Cristo at his command?” demanded Mr.

Brief.

”Reggie hasn't a cent to his name,” said the Idiot. ”I've already told you he owes us $800 he can't pay.”

”Then who in thunder pays for the villa and the lot and all those hundred-dollar souvenirs?” asked the Doctor.

”Why--this year, the De Boodles,” said the Idiot. ”Last year it was Colonel and Mrs. Moneybags, whose daughter, Miss Fayette Moneybags, is now clinching the position Reggie sold her at Newport over in London, whither Reggie has consigned her to his sister, an impecunious American d.u.c.h.ess--the d.u.c.h.ess of Nocash--who is also in the boosting business.

The chances are Miss Moneybags will land one of England's most deeply indebted peers, and if she does, Reggie will receive a handsome cheque for steering the family up against so attractive a proposition.”

”And you mean to tell us that a plain man like old John De Boodle, of Nevada, is putting out his hard-earned wealth in that way?” demanded Mr.

Brief.

”I didn't mean to mention any names,” said the Idiot. ”But you've spotted the victim. Old John De Boodle, who made his $60,000,000 in six months after having kept a saloon on the frontier for forty years, is the man. His family wants to get in the swim, and Reggie is turning the trick for them--and after all, what better way is there for De Boodle to get in? He might take sixty villas at Newport and not get a peep at the Divorce Colony there, much less a glimpse of the monogamous set acting independently. Not a monkey in the Zoo would dine with the De Boodles, and in his most eccentric moment I doubt if Tommy Dare would take them up unless there was somebody to stand sponsor for them. A cool million might easily be expended without results, by the De Boodles themselves, but hand that money over to Reggie Squandercash, whose blood is as blue as his creditors sometimes get, and you can look for results. What the Frohmans are to the stage, Reggie Squandercash is to Society. He's right in it; popular as all spenders are; lavish as all people spending other people's money are apt to be. Old De Boodle, egged on by Mrs. De Boodle and Miss Mary Ann De Boodle, now known as Miss Marianne De Boodle, goes to Reggie and says, 'The old lady and my girl are nutty on Society. Can you land 'em?' 'Certainly,' says Reggie, 'if your pocket is long enough.' 'How long is that?' asks De Boodle, wincing a bit. 'A hundred thousand a month, and no extras, until you're in,' says Reggie. 'No reduction for families?' asks De Boodle, anxiously. 'No,' says Reggie.

'Harder job.' 'All right,' says De Boodle, 'here's my cheque for the first month.' That's how Reggie gets his Newport villa, his servants, his horses, yacht, automobiles and coaches. Then he invites the De Boodles up to visit him. They accept, and the fun begins. First it's a little dinner to meet my friends Mr. and Mrs. De Boodle, of Nevada.

Everybody there, hungry, dinner from Sherrys, best wines in the market.

De Boodles covered with diamonds, a great success, especially old John De Boodle, who tells racy stories over the _demi-ta.s.se_ when the ladies have gone into the drawing-room. De Boodle voted a character. Next thing, Bridge Whist party. Everybody there. Society a good winner. The De Boodles magnificent losers. Popularity cinched. Next, yachting party. Everybody on board. De Boodle on deck in fine shape. Champagne flows like Niagara. Poker game in main cabin. Food everywhere. De Boodles much easier. Stiffness wearing off, and so on and so on until finally Miss De Boodle's portrait is printed in nineteen Sunday newspapers all over the country. They're launched, and Reggie comes into his own with a profit for the season in a cash balance of $50,000. He's had a bully time all summer, entertained like a Prince, and comes to the rainy season with a tidy little umbrella to keep him out of the wet.”

”And can he count on that as a permanent business?” asked Mr.