Part 16 (1/2)
”I've dreamed about these things for four years,” he declared, ”and I can't stand it any longer.” He bit into one voraciously, and thereafter followed his companion about munching tomatoes at every step, refilling his pockets as his supply diminished. To show his willingness for any sacrifice, he volunteered to wear a dress suit if Emerson would buy it for him, and it required considerable argument to convince him that the garb was unnecessary.
”You better train me up before we get East,” he warned, ”or I'll make your swell friends sore and spoil the deal. I could wear it on the cars and get easy in it.”
”My dear fellow, it takes more than a week to 'get easy' in a dress suit.”
Boyd smiled, amused at his earnestness, for the big fellow was merely a boy out on a wonderful vacation.
”Well, if there is a Down-East manicure woman in Seattle, show her to me and I'll practice on her,” he insisted. ”She can halter-break me, at least.”
”Yes, it might not hurt to get that off your hands,” Emerson acknowledged, at which the clothier's clerk, who had noted the condition of the fisherman's huge paws, snickered audibly.
It was a labor of several hours to fit Big George's bulky frame, and when the two returned to the hotel Emerson found the representative of an afternoon newspaper anxiously awaiting him at the desk.
”We noticed your arrival from the North,” began the reporter, ”and Mr.
Athens sent me down to get a story.”
”Athens! Billy Athens?”
”Yes! He is the editor. I believe you two were college mates. He wanted to know if you are the Boyd Emerson of the Michigan football team.”
”Well, well!” Boyd mused. ”Billy Athens was a good tackle.”
”He thought you might have something interesting to tell about Alaska,”
the newspaper man went on. ”However, I won't need to take much of your time, for your partner has been telling me all about you and your trip and your great success.”
”My partner?”
”Yes. Mr. Frobisher. He heard me inquire about you and volunteered to give me an interview in your name.”
”Frobisher!” said Emerson, now thoroughly mystified.
”Sure, that's him, over yonder.” The reporter indicated ”Fingerless”
Fraser, who, having watched the interview from a distance, now solemnly closed one eye and stuck his tongue into his cheek.
”Oh, yes, yes! _Frobisher!_” Boyd stammered. ”Certainly!”
”He is a character, isn't he? He told me how you rescued that girl when she broke through the ice at Kalvik.”
”He did?”
”Quite a romance, wasn't it? It is a good newspaper story and I'll play it up. He is going to let me in on that hydraulic proposition of yours, too.
Of course I haven't much money, but it sounds great, and--”
”How far along did you get with your negotiations about this hydraulic proposition?” Boyd asked, curiously.
”Just far enough so I'm all on edge for it. I'll make up a little pool among the boys at the office and have the money down here before you leave to-night.”
”I am sorry, but Mr. Frobisher and I will have to talk it over first,”
said Emerson, grimly. ”I think we will keep that 'hydraulic proposition'