Part 24 (1/2)
Henry deliberated. ”It's so near the finish.... I don't much care one way or the other. Who's the party?”
”Bird named McClellan.”
”I don't know him; do I?”
”I don't know why you should; never met him before, myself. Well, do you want to trade?”
”I don't much care what I do.”
Standish surveyed him closely. ”You're very peppy this morning, seems to me.”
”I've got an excuse to be.”
”For publication?”
”Not yet. You'll see it soon enough.”
Standish's eyes dropped back to his desk. ”Well, let's get this lease question off our chests. If you'll let me handle it for you, I'll guarantee you'll be satisfied.”
”Would you do it if you were in my shoes?”
”Absolutely--provided you were in mine.”
Henry laughed. ”Well, Mr. Bones, what _is_ the answer?”
”Why--this _may_ do you some good. That is, if you let me manage it for you. But suppose it's immaterial. Suppose you run out your string, and win or lose, you know what's on the docket for you, don't you? If you want it?”
”I haven't thought that far ahead. I've had one or two things put up to me.”
”Forget 'em.” Standish pointed at the wall. ”Nice new mahogany flat-topped desk right there.”
Henry's mouth relaxed. ”Why--_Bob_.”
As Standish gazed at him, no observer would have said that this immature-looking boy was rated in the highest group of local businessmen. To a stranger, the offer might have seemed insignificant, even humorously insignificant; but to Henry it was stupendous, and for two widely varying reasons.
”Just to think over,” said Standish. ”In case.”
Henry's fists were doubled. ”It isn't so much the ... the commercial side of it, Bob, but when I know you've always had me down for such an _incompetent_ sort of--”
”That was before the war. To tell the truth, old rubbish, last August I couldn't have seen it with the Lick telescope. Thought you were a great scout, of course--good pal--all that--but _business_; that's different. A friend's one thing; but a partner's a lot of 'em.”
Henry was staring fixedly at him. ”I wouldn't have any money to speak of--”
”Then don't speak of it. _I_'ll name the price. The price is your year's profit on the Orpheum.”
There was a little silence. ”When did you get this hunch, Bob?”
”Oh, about last February.”
”But it was about then that I came in here one day, and--and you said you--you said one pal _couldn't_ boss another. You said--”