The Early Bird: A Business Man's Love Story

by George Randolph Chester

  CHAPTER V

  MISS JOSEPHINE'S FATHER AGREES THAT SAM TURNER IS ALL BUSINESS

  "And now," announced Sam in calm triumph as they neared Hollis CreekInn, "I'll finish up this deal right away. There is no use in myholding for a further rise at this time, and I'll just sell these treesto your father."

  "To father!" she gasped, and then, as it dawned upon her that she hadbeen out all morning to help Sam Turner buy up trees to sell to her ownfather at a profit, she burst forth into shrieks of laughter.

  "What's the joke?" Sam asked, regarding her in amazement, and then,more or less dimly, he perceived. "Still," he said, relapsing intoserious consideration of the affair, "your father will be in luck tobuy those trees at all, even at the ten dollars a thousand profit he'llhave to pay me. There is not less than a hundred thousand feet ofwalnut in that grove.

  "Mercy!" she said. "Why, that will make you a thousand dollars forthis morning's drive; and the opportunity was entirely accidental, onewhich would not have occurred if you hadn't come over to see me in thismachine. I think I ought to have a commission."

  "You ought to be fined," Sam retorted. "You had me scared stiff at onetime."

  "How was that?" she demanded.

  "Why, of course you didn't think, but when you told the boys that I wasgoing out to buy a walnut grove, they were right on their way to seeyour father. It would have been very natural for one of them tomention our errand. Your father might have immediately inquired wherethere was walnut to be found, and have telephoned to old man Giffordbefore I could reach him."

  "You needn't have worried!" stated Miss Josephine in a tone soindignant that Sam turned to her in astonishment. "My father would nothave done anything so despicable as that, I am quite sure!"

  "He wouldn't!" exclaimed Sam. "I'll bet he would. Why, how do yousuppose your father became rich in the lumber trade if it wasn'tthrough snapping up bargains every time he found one?"

  "I have no doubt that my father has been and is a very alert businessman," retorted Miss Josephine most icily; "but after he knew that youhad started out actually to purchase a tract of lumber, he wouldcertainly consider that you had established a prior claim upon theproperty."

  "Your father's name is Theophilus Stevens, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "Humph!" said Sam, but he did not explain that exclamation, nor was heasked to explain. Miss Stevens had been deeply wounded by the assaultupon her father's business morality, and she desired to hear no furtherelaboration of the insult.

  She was glad that they were drawing up now to the porch, glad thisride, with its many disagreeable features, was over, although shecarefully gathered up her bright-berried branches, which were not halfso much withered as she had expected them to be, and held her geraniumslips cautiously as she alighted.

  Her father came out to the edge of the porch to meet them. He paid noattention to his daughter.

  "Well, Sam Turner," said Mr. Stevens, stroking his aggressive beard, "Ihear you got it, confound you! What do you want for your lumbercontract?"

  "Just the advance of this morning's quotations," replied Sam."Princeman tell you I was after it?"

  "No, not at first," said Stevens. "I received a telegram about thatgrove just an hour ago, from my partner. Princeman was with me whenthe telegram came, and he told me then that you had just gone out onthe trail. I did my best to get Gifford by 'phone before you couldreach him."

  "Father!" exclaimed Miss Josephine.

  "What's the matter, Jo?"

  "You say you actually tried to--to get in ahead of Mr. Turner in buyingthis lumber, knowing that he was going down there purposely for it?"

  "Why, certainly," admitted her father.

  "But did you know that I was with Mr. Turner?"

  "_Why, certainly_!"

  "Father!" was all she could gasp, and without deigning to say good-byto Mr. Turner, or to thank him for the ride or the bouquet of branchesor even the geranium slips which she had received under falsepretenses, she hurried away to her room, oppressed with Heaven onlyknows what mortification, and also with what wonder at the ways of men!

  However, Princeman and Billy Westlake and young Hollis with the curlyhair were impatiently waiting for Miss Josephine at the tennis court,as they informed her in a jointly signed note sent up to her by a boy,and hastily removing the dust of the road she ran down to join them.As she went across the lawn, tennis bat in hand, Sam Turner, discussinglumber with Mr. Stevens, saw her and stopped talking abruptly to admirethe trim, graceful figure.

  "Does your daughter play tennis much?" he inquired.

  "A great deal," returned Mr. Stevens, expanding with pride. "Jo's avery expert player. She's better at it than any of these girls, andshe really doesn't care to play except with experts. Princeman, Hollisand Billy Westlake are easily the champions here."

  "I see," said Sam thoughtfully.

  "I suppose you're a crack player yourself," his host resumed, glancingat Sam's bat.

  "Me? No, worse than a dub. I never had time; that is, until now.I'll tell you, though, this being away from the business grind is agreat thing. You don't know how I enjoy the fresh air and the beingout in the country this way, and the absolute freedom from businesscares and worries."

  "But where are you going?" asked Stevens, for Sam was getting up."You'll stay to lunch with us, won't you?"

  "No, thanks," replied Sam, looking at his watch. "I expect some wordfrom my kid brother. I have wired him to send some samples of marshpulp, and the paper we've had made from it."

  "Marsh pulp," repeated Mr. Stevens. "That's a new one on me. What'sit like?"

  "Greatest stunt on earth," replied Sam confidently. "It is our schemeto meet the deforestation danger on the way--coming."

  Already he was reaching in his pocket for paper and pencil, and satdown again at the side of Mr. Stevens, who immediately began strokinghis aggressive beard. Fifteen minutes later Sam briskly got up againand Mr. Stevens shook hands with him.

  "That's a great scheme," he said, and he gazed after Sam's broadshoulders admiringly as that young man strode down the steps.

  On his way Sam passed the tennis court where the one girl and threeyoung men were engaged in a most dextrous game, a game which all theother amateurs of Hollis Creek Inn had stopped their own sets to watch.In the pause of changing sides Miss Josephine saw him and waved herhand and wafted a gay word to him. A second later she was in the air,a lithe, graceful figure, meeting a high "serve," and Sam walked onquite thoughtfully.

  When he arrived at Meadow Brook his first care was for his telegram.It was there, and bore the assurance that the samples would arrive onthe following morning. His next step was to hunt Miss Westlake. Thatplump young person forgot her pique of the morning in an instant whenhe came up to her with that smiling "been-looking-for-you-everywhere,mighty-glad-to-see-you" cordiality.

  "I want you to teach me tennis," he said immediately.

  "I'm afraid I can't teach you much," she replied with becomingdiffidence, "because I'm not a good enough player myself; but I'll domy best. We'll have a set right after luncheon; shall we?"

  "Fine!" said he.

  After luncheon Mr. Westlake and Mr. Cuthbert waylaid him, but he merelythrust his telegram into Mr. Westlake's hands, and hurried off to thetennis grounds with Miss Westlake and Miss Hastings and lanky BobTilloughby, who stuttered horribly and blushed when he spoke, and wasin deadly seriousness about everything. Never did a man work so hardat anything as Sam Turner worked at tennis. He had a keen eye and adextrous wrist, and he kept the game up to top-notch speed. Of coursehe made blunders and became confused in his count and overlookedopportunities, but he covered acres of ground, as Vivian Hastingsexpressed it, and when, at the end of an hour, they sat down, panting,to rest, young Tilloughby, with painful earnestness, assured him thathe had "the mum-mum-makings of a fine tennis player."

  Sam considered that compliment very thoughtfully, but he was a trifledubious. Already he perceived that t
ennis playing was not only anoccupation but a calling.

  "Thanks," said he. "It's mighty nice of you to say so, Tilloughby.What's the next game?"

  "The nun-nun-next game is a stroll," Tilloughby soberly advised him."It always stus-stus-starts out as a foursome, and ends up intut-tut-two doubles."

  So they strolled. They wound along the brookside among some of thepretty paths, and in the rugged places Miss Westlake threw her weightupon Sam's helping arm as much as possible; in the concealed places shelanguished, which she did very prettily, she thought, considering herone hundred and sixty-three pounds. They took him through a detour ofshady paths which occupied a full hour to traverse, but this particulargame did not wind up in "two doubles." In spite of all the excellenttete-a-tete opportunities which should have risen for both couples,Miss Westlake was annoyed to find Miss Hastings right close behind, andholding even the conversation to a foursome.

  In the meantime, Sam Turner took careful lessons in the art of talkingtwaddle, and they never knew that he was bored. Having entered intothe game he played it with spirit, and before they had returned to thehouse Mr. Tilloughby was calling him Sus-Sus-Sam.

  The girls disappeared for their beauty sleep, and Sam found McComas andBilly Westlake hunting for him.

  "Do you play base-ball?" inquired McComas.

  "A little. I used to catch, to help out my kid brother, who is anexpert pitcher."

  "Good!" said McComas, writing down Sam's name. "Princeman will pitch,but we needed a catcher. The rivalry between Meadow Brook and HollisCreek is intense this year. They've captured nearly all the earlytrophies, but we're going over there next week for a match game andwe're about crazy to win."

  "I'll do the best I can," promised Sam. "Got a base-ball? We'll goout and practise."

  They slammed hot ones into each other for a half hour, and when theyhad enough of it, McComas, wiping his brow, exclaimed approvingly:

  "You'll do great with a little more warming up. We have a couple ofcorking players, but we need them. Hollis always pitches for HollisCreek, and he usually wins his game. On baseball day he's the idol ofall the girls."

  Sam Turner placed his hand meditatively upon the back of his neck as hewalked in to dress for dinner. Making a good impression upon the girlswas a separate business, it seemed, and one which required muchpreparation. Well, he was in for the entire circus, but he realizedthat he was a little late in starting. In consequence he could notafford to overlook any of the points; so, before dressing for dinner,he paid a quiet visit to the greenhouses.

  That evening, while he was bowling with all the earnestness that in himlay, Josephine Stevens, resisting the importunities of young Hollis forsome music, sat by her father.

  "Father," she asked after long and sober thought, "was it right foryou, knowing Mr. Turner to be after that walnut lumber, to try to getit away from him by telephoning?"

  "It certainly was!" he replied emphatically. "Turner went down therewith a deliberate intention of buying that lumber before I could getit, so that he could sell it to me at as big a gain as possible. Ipaid him one thousand dollars profit for his contract. I had struggledmy best to beat him to it; only I was too late. Both of us wereplaying the game according to the rules, but he is a younger player."

  "I see." Another long pause. "Here's another thing. Mr. Turnerhappened to know of this increase in the price of lumber, and hehurried down there to a man who didn't know about that, and bought it.If Mr. Gifford had known of the new rates, Mr. Turner could not havebought those trees at the price he did, could he?"

  "Certainly not," agreed her father. "He would have had to pay nearly athousand dollars more for them."

  "Then that wasn't right of Mr. Turner," she asserted.

  "My child," said Mr. Stevens wearily, "all business is conducted for aprofit, and the only way to get it is by keeping alive and knowingthings that other people will find out to-morrow. Sam Turner is theshrewdest and the livest young man I've met in many a day, and he'ssquare as a die. I'd take his word on any proposition; wouldn't you?"

  "Yes, I think I'd take his word," she admitted, and very positively,after mature deliberation. "But truly, father, don't you think he'stoo much concentrated on business? He hasn't a thought in his mind foranything else. For instance, this morning he came over to take me anautomobile ride around Bald Hill, and when he found out about thiswalnut grove, without either apology or explanation to me he orderedthe chauffeur to drive right down there."

  "Fine," laughed her father. "I'd like to hire him for my manager, if Icould only offer him enough money. But I don't see your point ofcriticism. It seems to me that he's a mighty presentable and likableyoung fellow, good looking, and a gentleman in the sense in which Ilike to use that word."

  "Yes, he is all of those things," she admitted again; "but it is a flawin a young man, isn't it," she persisted, betraying an unusuallyanxious interest, "for him never to think of a solitary thing but justbusiness?"

  They were sitting in one of the alcoves of the assembly room, and atthat moment a bell-boy, wandering around the place with apparentaimlessness, spied them and brought to Miss Josephine a big box. Sheopened it and an exclamation of pleasure escaped her. In the box was ahuge bouquet of exquisite roses, soft and glowing, delicious in theirfragrance.

  Impulsively she buried her face in them.

  "Oh, how delightful!" she cried, and she drew out the white card whichpeeped forth from amidst the stems. "They are from Mr. Turner!" shegasped.

  "You're quite right about him," commented her father dryly. "He's allbusiness."