Part 14 (1/2)
He left her to greet another who entered and Josie walked down the aisle, as directed. The office was raised a step above the main floor and was railed in, with a small swinging gate to allow entrance. This was not the main business office but the proprietor's special den and his desk was placed so he could overlook the entire establishment, with one glance. Just at present Kasker was engaged in writing, or figuring, for his bushy head was bent low.
Josie opened the gate, walked in and took a chair that stood beside the desk.
”Good morning, Mr. Kasker,” she said sweetly.
He looked up, swept her with a glance and replied:
”What's the matter? Can't one of the clerks attend to you? I'm busy.”
”I'll wait,” was Josie's quiet reply. ”I'd rather deal with you than a clerk.”
He hesitated, laid down his pen and turned his chair toward her. She knew the man, by sight, but if he had ever seen the girl he did not recall the fact. His tone was now direct and businesslike.
”Very well, miss; tell me what I can do for you.”
It had only taken her an instant to formulate her speech.
”I'm interested in the poor children of Dorfield,” she began, ”having been sent here as the agent of an organization devoted to clothing our needy little ones. I find, since I have been soliciting subscriptions in Dorfield and investigating the requirements of the poor, that there are a lot of boys, especially, in this city who are in rags, and I want to purchase for them as many outfits as my money will allow. But on account of the war, and its demands on people formerly charitably inclined, I realize my subscription money is altogether too little to do what I wish. That's too bad, but it's true. Everywhere they talk war--war---war and its hards.h.i.+ps. The war demands money for taxes, bonds, mess funds, the Red Cross and all sorts of things, and in consequence our poor are being sadly neglected.”
He nodded, somewhat absently, but said nothing. Josie felt her clever bait had not been taken, as she had expected, so she resolved to be more audacious in her remarks.
”It seems a shame,” she said with a.s.sumed indignation, ”that the poor of the country must starve and be in want, while the money is all devoted to raising an army for the Germans to shoot and mangle.”
He saw the point and answered with a broad smile:
”Is that the alternative, young lady? Must one or the other happen?
Well--yes; the soldiers must be killed, G.o.d help 'em! But _himmel!_ We don't let our kiddies freeze for lack of clothes, do we? See here; they're taking everything away from us merchants--our profits, our goods, everything!--but the little we got left the kiddies can have.
The war is a robber; it destroys; it puts its hand in an honest man's pocket without asking his consent; all wars do that. The men who make wars have no souls--no mercy. But they make wars. Wars are desperate things and require desperate methods. There is always the price to pay, and the people always pay it. The autocrats of war do not say 'Please!'
to us; they say 'Hold up your hands!' and so--what is there to do but hold up our hands?”
Josie was delighted; she was exultant; Jake Kasker was falling into her trap very swiftly.
”But the little ones,” he continued, suddenly checking himself in his tirade, ”must not be made to suffer like the grown-up folks. They, at least, are innocent of it all. Young lady, I'd do more for the kids than I'd do for the war--and I'll do it willingly, of my own accord.
Tell me, then, how much money you got and I'll give you the boys' suits at cost price. I'll do more; for every five suits you buy from me at cost, I'll throw an extra one in, free--Jake Kasker's own contribution.”
This offer startled and somewhat dismayed Josie. She had not expected the interview to take such a turn, and Kasker's generosity seriously involved her, while, at the same time, it proved to her without a doubt that the man was a man. He was loud mouthed and foolish; that was all.
While she gathered her wits to escape from an unpleasant situation, a quick step sounded on the aisle and a man brusquely entered the office and exclaimed:
”h.e.l.lo, Jake; I'm here again. How's the suspender stock?”
Kasker gave him a surly look.
”You come pretty often, Abe Kauffman,” he muttered. ”Suspenders? Bah! I only buy 'em once a year, and you come around ev'ry month or so. I don't think it pays you to keep pesterin' merchants.”
Abe Kauffman laughed--a big laugh--and sat down in a chair.
”One time you buy, Jake, and other times I come to Dorfield somebody else buys. How do I know you don't get a run on suspenders some time?
And if I don't visit all my customers, whether they buy or not, they think I neglect 'em. Who's this, Jake? Your daughter?”