Part 21 (1/2)
”Quite true,” said Jimmy. ”Whatever a man undertakes he should succeed in before he can hope to bring success to others.”
”Even in trifling occupations, I presume,” suggested the girl, ”efficiency methods are best--an efficiency expert could doubtlessly drive a milk-wagon better than an ordinary person?” And she looked straight into Jimmy's eyes, an unquestioned challenge in her own.
”Unquestionably,” said Jimmy. ”He could wait on table better, too.”
”Or sell stockings?” suggested Elizabeth.
It was at this moment that Mr. Compton was called to the telephone in an adjoining room, and when he had gone the girl turned suddenly upon Jimmy Torrance. There was no cordiality nor friends.h.i.+p in her expression; a sneer upcurved her short upper lip.
”I do not wish to humiliate you unnecessarily in the presence of my father,” she said. ”You have managed to deceive him into believing that you are what you claim to be. Mr. Bince has known from the start that you are incompetent and incapable of accomplis.h.i.+ng the results father thinks you are accomplis.h.i.+ng. Now that you know that I know you to be an impostor, what do you intend to do?”
”I intend to keep right on with my work in the plant, Miss Compton,”
replied Jimmy.
”How long do you suppose father would keep you after I told him what I know of you? Do you think that he would for a moment place the future of his business in the hands of an ex-waiter from Feinheimer's---that he would let a milk-wagon driver tell him how to run his business?”
”It probably might make a difference,” said Jimmy, ”if he knew, but he will not know--listen, Miss Compton, I have discovered some things there that I have not even dared as yet to tell your father. The whole future of the business may depend upon my being there during the next few weeks. If I wasn't sure of what I am saying I might consider acceding to your demands rather than to embarra.s.s you with certain knowledge which I have.”
”You refuse to leave, then?” she demanded.
”I do,” he said.
”Very well,” she replied; ”I shall tell father when he returns to this room just what I know of you.”
”Will you tell him,” asked Jimmy, ”that you went to the training quarters of a prize-fighter, or that you dined unescorted at Feinheimer's at night and were an object of the insulting attentions of such a notorious character as Steve Murray?”
The girl flushed. ”You would tell him that?” she demanded. ”Oh, of course, I might have known that you would. It is difficult to realize that any one dining at my father's home is not a gentleman. I had forgotten for the moment.”
”Yes,” said Jimmy, ”I would tell him, not from a desire to harm you, but because this is the only way that I can compel you to refrain from something that would result in inestimable harm to your father.”
CHAPTER XXI.
JIMMY TELLS THE TRUTH.
Mr. Compton returned to the room before Jimmy had discovered whether the girl intended to expose him or not. She said nothing about the matter during dinner, and immediately thereafter she excused herself, leaving the two men alone.
During the conversation that ensued Jimmy discovered that Bince had been using every argument at his command to induce Compton to let him go, as well as getting rid of the certified public accountants.
”I can't help but feel,” said Compton, ”that possibly there may be some reason in what Mr. Bince says, for he seems to feel more strongly on this subject than almost any question that has ever arisen in the plant wherein we differed, and it may be that I am doing wrong to absolutely ignore his wishes in the matter.
”As a matter of fact, Mr. Torrance, I have reached the point where I don't particularly relish a fight, as I did in the past. I would rather have things run along smoothly than to have this feeling of unrest and unpleasantness that now exists in the plant. I do not say that you are to blame for it, but the fact remains that ever since you came I have been constantly hara.s.sed by this same unpleasant condition which grows worse day by day. There is no question but what you have accomplished a great deal for us of a practical nature, but I believe in view of Mr.
Bince's feelings in the matter that we had better terminate our arrangement.”
Jimmy suddenly noted how old and tired his employer looked. He realized, too, that for a week he had been fighting an incipient influenza and that doubtless his entire mental att.i.tude was influenced by the insidious workings of the disease, one of the marked symptoms of which he knew to be a feeling of despondency and mental depression, which sapped both courage and initiative.
They were pa.s.sing through the hallway from the dining-room to the library, and as Compton concluded what was equivalent to Jimmy's discharge, he had stopped and turned toward the younger man. They were standing near the entrance to the music-room in which Elizabeth chanced to be, so that she overheard her father's words, and not without a smile of satisfaction and relief.
”Mr. Compton,” replied Jimmy, ”no matter what you do with me, you simply must not let those C.P.A.'s go until they have completed their work. I know something of what it is going to mean to your business, but I would rather that the reports come from them than from me.”