Part 5 (1/2)
”You're excited,” said Murray. ”Sit down! Now, what's the matter?”
Ross hesitated a moment, and then blurted out the whole story.
”You wish to pay this premium?” asked Murray.
”I'm going to pay it!” said Ross defiantly. ”It will stick the company for more than four thousand dollars, but I'm going to pay it!”
”And you wish to resign to do it honorably?”
”Yes.”
”Pay it!” said Murray. ”But your resignation is not accepted. I wouldn't lose such a man as you for ten times four thousand dollars.”
”It is all right?” asked Ross, bewildered.
”Of course it's all right,” a.s.serted Murray. ”As a matter of sympathy and justice, it is not only right but highly commendable; as a matter of financial profit to you, it would be despicable. Pay that premium, and I tell you now that the company will never pay a death benefit with less hesitation than it will pay this one. What is one risk more or less? We do business on the general average, and any sum is well invested that uncovers so conscientious an employee. Pay it, and come back to me.”
Three minutes later, Ross, with the receipt in his pocket, was at the telephone.
”It's all right,” he told his wife. ”The premium is paid.”
”Oh, Owen!” exclaimed Mrs. Ross, and her voice broke a little, ”you don't know what comfort you have given a dying man! If you could only see-”
”Get a cab!” he broke in. ”He doesn't know it yet, and you must tell him. Get a cab and drive like-”
He stopped short, but his wife knew what he almost said, and she forgave him without even a preliminary reproach.
His eyes were bright and his heart was light when he went back to Murray. Mrs. Becker's situation was sad enough, but surely he had lessened the gloom of it by removing one great source of anxiety. He felt that he had done something worthy of a man, and it was a joy that he could do this without transcending the rules of business integrity and loyalty.
”I want you,” said Murray, and there was something of admiration in his tone; ”I want you so much that I am going to put you in the way of making more money. You have a great deal to learn about the insurance business before you will cease making unnecessary problems for yourself, but you have one quality that makes you valuable to me.” He paused and smiled a little at the recollection of what had pa.s.sed. ”I would suggest,” he went on, ”that you bear this in mind: life insurance is not for one life only or for one generation only, but for the centuries.
Otherwise, we could not do business on the present plan. We exist by reducing the laws of chance to a science that makes us secure in the long run, although, on the basis of a single year, there may be considerable losses. And a good company will no more stoop to shabby tricks than you will; nor will it seek to escape obligations through technicalities or petty subterfuges. That's why I told you to pay that premium, and I respect you for doing it.”
Murray picked up a memorandum on his desk.
”By the way,” he added, glancing at it, ”you must have made good use of the arguments I gave you, for your sanctimonious optimist telephoned that, if you would call this afternoon or to-morrow, he would arrange with you for a ten-thousand-dollar policy.”
Grateful as Murray's praise was to his ears, the greeting from his wife gave Ross the most joy.
”He was conscious for a moment and understood,” she said, as she put her arms around her husband's neck, ”and there was such an expression of restful peace on his face that it made me happy, in spite of the shadow of death hovering over. It made him a little better, the doctor said, but nothing can save him. And I'm so proud of you, Owen!”
”To tell the truth, dearest,” he replied tenderly, ”I'm almost proud of myself.”
AN INCIDENTAL TRAGEDY
Dave Murray stretched his legs comfortably under the table, blew rings of smoke toward the ceiling, and waited for Stanley Wentworth to speak.
Having his full share of worldly wisdom, Murray knew that there was a reason for Wentworth's most urgent invitation to lunch with him at his club. While they had been friends for years and had lunched together on many previous occasions, there was a formality about this invitation that presaged something of importance. So, when they reached the cigars, Murray smoked and waited.
”You win, Dave,” Wentworth announced at last.