The Wit and Humor of America, Volume VI. (of X.)

by Rick Raphael

  "Tell me his name, where he lives, and all."

  "We were coming back from Colorado, and there was some mistake about ourtickets. They sold our Pullman drawing-room twice over--to Doctor Jonesand his mother, and also to ourselves. You never saw such a fight--andthat led to our making friends, and his proposing to Eleanor!"

  "Then why in Heaven's name didn't she" (it was on the tip of my tongueto say "jump at him") "take him?"

  "She said she couldn't marry a man who was her intellectual inferior."

  "And was he?"

  "Oh, he was a perfect idiot--but nice, and all that, and tremendously inlove with her. Pity, wasn't it?"

  "The obvious thing to do is to chase him up instantly. Where did you sayhe lived?"

  "His mother told me he was going to New York to practice medicine."

  "But didn't you ever hear from him again? I mean, was that the end of itall?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you don't even know if he has married since?"

  "No!"

  "Nor died?"

  "No."

  "Nor anything at all?"

  "No."

  "What was his first name?"

  "Wait a moment ... let me think ... yes, it was Harry."

  "Just Harry Jones, then, New York City?"

  Freddy laughed forlornly.

  "But he must have had antecedents," I cried out. "There are two ways ofdoing this Sherlock Holmes business--backward and forward, you know.Let's take Doctor Jones backward. As they say in post-officeforms?--what was his place of origin?"

  "New York City."

  "He begins there and ends there, does he, then?"

  "Yes."

  "But how sure are you that Eleanor would marry him if I did manage tofind him and bring him back?"

  "I'm not sure at all."

  "No, but Freddy, listen--it's important. You told me yourself thatshe--I want the very identical words she used."

  Freddy reflected.

  "She said she was almost sorry she hadn't accepted that silly doctor!"

  "That doesn't seem much, does it?" I remarked gloomily.

  "Oh, from Eleanor it does, Ezra. She said it quite seriously. She alwayshides her feelings under a veil of sarcastic humor, you know."

  "You're certainly a very difficult family to marry," I said.

  "Being an orphan--" she began.

  "Well, I'm going to find that Jones if I--!"

  "Ezra, dear boy, you're crazy. How could you think for a moment that--"

  "I'm off, little girl. Good-by!"

  "Wait a second, Ezra!"

  She rose and went into the next room, reappearing with something in herhand. She was crying and smiling both at once. I took the little caseshe gave me--it was like one of those things that pen-knives are putin--and looked at her for an explanation.

  "It's the h-h-hindleg of a j-j-jack-rabbit," she said, "shot by ag-g-grave at the f-f-full of the moon. It's supposed to be l-l-lucky. Itwas given to me by a naval officer who got drowned. It's the only way Ican h-h-help you!"

  And thus equipped I started bravely for New York.

  II

  In the directory I found eleven pages of Joneses; three hundred andeighty-four Henry Joneses; and (excluding seventeen dentists)eighty-seven Doctor Henry Joneses. I asked one of the typists in theoffice to copy out the list, and prepared to wade in. We were on the eveof a labor war, and it was exceedingly difficult for me to get away. Asthe managing partner of Hodge & Westoby, boxers (not punching boxers,nor China boxers, but just plain American box-making boxers), I had tobear the brunt of the whole affair, and had about as much spare time asyou could heap on a ten-cent piece. I had to be firm, conciliatory,defiant and tactful all at once, and every hour I took off for Jonesingthreatened to blow the business sky-high. It was a tight place and nomistake, and it was simply jack-rabbit hindleg luck that pulled methrough!

  My first Jones was a hoary old rascal above a drug store. He was a hardman to get away from, and made such a fuss about my wasting his timewith idle questions that I flung him a dollar and departed. He followedme down to my cab and insisted on sticking in a giant bottle of hisDog-Root Tonic. I dropped it overboard a few blocks farther on, andthought that was the end of it till the whole street began to yell atme, and a policeman grabbed my horse, while a street arab darted upbreathless with the Dog-Root Tonic. I presented it to him, together witha quarter, the policeman darkly regarding me as an incipient madman.

  The second Jones was a man of about thirty, a nice, gentlemanly fellow,in a fine office. I have usually been an off-hand man in business,accustomed to quick decisions and very little beating about the bush.But I confess I was rather nonplussed with the second Jones. How thedevil was I to _begin_? His waiting-room was full of people, and Ihardly felt entitled to sit down and gas about one thing and the othertill the chance offered of leading up to the Van Coorts. So I said I hadsome queer, shooting sensations in the chest. In five minutes he had mehalf-stripped and was pounding my midriff in. And the questions that manasked! He began with my grandparents, roamed through my childhood andyouth, dissected my early manhood, and finally came down to coffee andwhat I ate for breakfast.

  Then it was my turn.

  I asked him, as a starter, whether he had ever been in Colorado?

  No, he hadn't.

  After forty-five minutes of being hammered, and stethoscoped, andpunched, and holding my breath till I was purple, and hopping on oneleg, he said I was a very obscure case of something with nine syllables!

  "At least, I won't be positive with one examination," he said; "butkindly come to-morrow at nine, when I shall be more at leisure to gointo the matter thoroughly."

  I paid him ten dollars and went sorrowfully away.

  The third Jones was too old to be my man; so was the fourth; the fifthhad gone away the month before, leaving no address; the sixth, however,was younger and more promising. I thought this time I'd choose somethingeasier than pains in the chest. I changed them to my left hand. I wasgoing to keep my clothes on, anyhow. But it wasn't any use. Off theycame. After a decent interval of thumping and grandfathers, and what Ihad for breakfast, I managed to get in my question:

  "Ever in Colorado, Doctor?"

  "Oh, dear me, no!"

  Another ten dollars, and nothing accomplished!

  The seventh Jones was again too old; the eighth was a pale hobbledehoy;the ninth was a loathsome quack; the tenth had died that morning; theeleventh was busy; the twelfth was a veterinary surgeon; the thirteenthwas an intern living at home with his widowed sister. Colorado? No, thewidowed sister was positive he had never been there. The fourteenth wasa handsome fellow of about thirty-five. He looked poor and threadbare,and I had a glimpse of a shabby bed behind a screen. Patients obviouslydid not often come his way, and his joy at seeing me was pitiful. I hadmeant to try a bluff and get in my Colorado question this time free ofcharge; but I hadn't the heart to do it. Slight pains in the head seemeda safe complaint.

  After a few questions he said he would have to make a thorough physicalexamination.

  "No clothes off!" I protested.

  "It's essential," he said, and went on with something about theradio-activity of the brain, and the vasomotor centers. The word motormade me feel like a sick automobile. I begged to keep my clothes on; Iinsisted; I promised to come to-morrow; but it wasn't any good, and in afew minutes he was hitting me harder than either of the two before.Maybe I was more tender! He electrocuted me extra from a switchboard,ran red-hot needles into my legs, and finally, after banging me aroundthe room, said I was the strongest and wellest man who had ever enteredhis office.

  "There's a lot of make-believe in medicine," he said; "but I'm one ofthose poor devils who can't help telling a patient the truth. There'snothing whatever the matter with you, Mr. Westoby, except that your skinhas a slightly abrased look, and I seem to notice an abnormalsensitiveness to touch."

  "Were you ever in Colorado, Doctor?" I asked while he was good enough tohelp me into my shirt.
r />   "Oh, yes, I know Colorado well!"

  My heart beat high.

  "Some friends of mine were out there three years ago," I said. "Wouldn'tit be strange if by any chance the Van Coorts--"

  "Oh, I left Denver when I was fifteen."

  Five dollars!

  The fifteenth Jones was a doctor of divinity; the sixteenth was atapeworm specialist; the seventeenth was too old, the eighteenth was tooold, the nineteenth was too old--a trio of disappointing patriarchs. Thetwentieth painted out black eyes; the twenty-first was a Russian whocould scarcely speak any English. He said he had changed his name fromKaraforvochristophervitch to something more suited to Americanpronunciation. He seemed to think that Jones gave him a better chance. Isincerely hope it did. He told me that all the rest of the Jones familywas in Siberia, but that he was going to bomb them out! Thetwenty-second was a negro. The twenty-third--! He was a tall, youngishman, narrow-shouldered, rather commonplace-looking, with beautiful blueeyes, and a timid, winning, deprecatory manner. I told him I wassuffering from insomnia. After raking over my grandfathers again andbringing the family history down by stages to the very moment I wasshown into his office he said he should have to ask me to undergo athorough physical--! But I was tired of being slapped and punched andbreathed on and prodded, and was bold enough to refuse point-blank. I'drather have the insomnia! We worked up quite a fuss about it, for therewas something tenacious in the fellow, for all his mild, kind, gentleways; and I had all I could do to get off by pleading press ofbusiness. But I wasn't to escape scot-free. Medical science had to geteven somehow. He compromised by stinging my eye out with belladonna.Have _you_ ever had belladonna squirted in _your_ eye? Well, don't.

  He was sitting at the table, writing out some cabalistic wiggles thatstood for bromide of potassium, when I remarked casually that it wasstrange how well I could always sleep in Colorado.

  He laid down the pen with a sigh.

  "A wonderful state--Colorado," I observed.

  "To me it's the land of memories," he said. "Sad, beautiful, irrevocablememories--try tea for breakfast--do you read Browning? Then you willremember that line: 'Oh, if I--' And I insist on your giving up thatcocktail before dinner."

  "Some very dear friends of mine were once in Colorado," I said."Morristown people--the Van Coorts."

  "The Van Coorts!"

  Doctor Jones sprang from his chair, his thin, handsome face flushingwith excitement.

  "Do you mean to say that you know Eleanor Van Coort?" he gasped.

  "All my life."

  He dropped back into the chair again and mumbled something about cigars.I was only to have blank a day. In his perturbation I believe he limitedme to a daily box. He was trying--and trying very badly--to conceal theemotions I had conjured up.

  "They were talking about you only yesterday," I went on. "That is, if it_was_ you! A Pullman drawing-room--"

  "And a mistake about the tickets," he broke out. "Yes, yes, it's theyall right. Talking about me, did you say? Did Eleanor--I mean, did MissVan Coort--express--?"

  "She was wondering how she could find you," I said. "You see, they'rebusy getting up a house-party and she was running over her men. 'If Ionly knew where that dear Doctor Jones was,' she said, and then askedme, if by any possible chance--"

  His fine blue eyes were glistening with all sorts of tender thoughts. Itwas really touching. And I was in love myself, you know.

  "So she has remained unmarried!" he exclaimed softly. "Unmarried--afterall these years!"

  "She's a very popular girl," I said. "She's had dozens of men at herfeet--but an unfortunate attachment, something that seems to go back toabout three years ago, has apparently determined her to stay out of thegame!"

  Doctor Jones dropped his head on his hands and murmured something thatsounded like "Eleanor, Eleanor!" Then he looked up with one of the mostradiant smiles I ever saw on a man's face. "I hope I'm not presuming ona very short acquaintance," he said, "but the fact is--why should I nottell you?--Miss Van Coort was the woman in my life!"

  I explained to him that Freddy was the woman in mine.

  Then you ought to have seen us fraternize!

  In twenty minutes I had him almost convinced that Eleanor had loved himall these years. But he worried a lot about a Mr. Wise who had been onthe same train, and a certain Colonel Hadow who had also paid Eleanorattention. Jones was a great fellow for wanting to be sure. Ipooh-poohed them out of the way and gave him the open track. Then,indeed, the clouds rolled away. He beamed with joy. In his rich gush offriendship he recurred to the subject of my insomnia with a new-bornenthusiasm. He subdivided all my symptoms. He dived again into myphysical being. He consulted German authorities. I squirmed and liedand resisted all I could, but he said he owed me an eternal debt thatcould only be liquidated by an absolute cure. He wanted to tie me up andshoot me with an X-ray. He ordered me to wear white socks. He had along, terrifying look at a drop of my blood. He jerked hairs out of myhead to sample my nerve force. He said I was a baffling subject, butthat he meant to make me well if it took the last shot in the scientificlocker. And he wound up at last by refusing point-blank to be paid acent!

  I waltzed away on air to write an account of the whole affair to Freddy,and dictate a plan of operations. I was justified in feeling proud ofmyself. Most men would have tamely submitted to their fate instead ofchasing up all the Joneses of Jonesville! Freddy sent me an earlyanswer--a gay, happy, overflowing little note--telling me to try andengage Doctor Jones for a three-day house-party at Morristown. I was totelegraph when he could come, and was promised an official invitationfrom Mrs. Matthewman. (She was the aunt, you know, that they livedwith--one of those old porcelain ladies with a lace cap and arent-roll.) However, I could not do anything for two days, for we hadreached a crisis in the labor troubles, and matters were approaching thebreaking point. We were threatened with one of those "sympathetic"strikes that drive business men crazy. There was no question at issuebetween ourselves and our employes; but the thing ramified off somewhereto the sugar vacuum-boiler riveters' union. Finally the S.V.B.R.U. cameto a settlement with their bosses, and peace was permitted to descend onHodge & Westoby's.

  I took immediate advantage of it to descend myself on Doctor Jones. Hereceived me with open arms and an insomniacal outburst. He had beenreading up; he had been seeing distinguished confreres; he had beenmastering the subject to the last dot, and was panting to begin. I hatedto dampen such friendship and ardor by telling him that I had completelyrecovered. Under the circumstances it seemed brutal--but I did it. Thepoor fellow tried to argue with me, but I insisted that I now slept likea top. It sounded horribly ungrateful. Here I was spurning the treasuresof his mind, and almost insulting him with my disgusting good health. Iswerved off to the house-party; Eleanor's delight, and so on; Mrs.Matthewman's pending invitation; the hope that he might have an earlydate free--

  He listened to it all in silence, walking restlessly about the office,his blue eyes shining with a strange light. He took up a bronzepaper-weight and gazed at it with an intensity of self-absorption.

  "I can't go," he said.

  "Oh, but you have to," I exclaimed.

  "Mr. Westoby," he resumed, "I was foolish enough to back a friend'scredit at a store here. He has skipped to Minnesota, and I am left withthree hundred and four dollars and seventy-five cents to pay. To take athree days' holiday would be a serious matter to me at any time, but atthis moment it is impossible."

  I gave him a good long look. He didn't strike me as a borrowing kind ofman. I should probably insult him by volunteering. Was there everanything so unfortunate?

  "I can't go," he repeated with a little choke.

  "You may never have another opportunity," I said. "Eleanor is doing athing I should never have expected from one of her proud and reservednature. The advances of such a woman--"

  He interrupted me with a groan.

  "If it wasn't for my mother I'd throw everything to the winds and fly toher," he burst out. "But I have a mother--a s
ainted mother, Mr.Westoby--her welfare must always be my first consideration!"

  "Is there no chance of anything turning up?" I said. "An appendicitiscase--an outbreak of measles? I thought there was a lot of scarlatinajust now."

  He shook his head dejectedly.

  "Doctor," I began again, "I am pretty well fixed myself. I'm blessedwith an income that runs to five figures. If all goes the way it shouldwe shall be brothers-in-law in six months. We are almost relations. Giveme the privilege of taking over this small obligation--"

  I never saw a man so overcome. My proposal seemed to tear the poor devilto pieces. When he spoke his voice was trembling.

  "You don't know what it means to me to refuse," he said. "Myself-respect ... my--my...." And then he positively began to weep!

  "You said three hundred and four dollars and seventy-five cents, Ibelieve?"

  He waved it from him with a long, lean hand.

  "I can not do it," he said; "and, for God's sake, don't ask me to!"

  I argued with him for twenty minutes; I laid the question before him ina million lights; I racked him with a picture of Eleanor, so deeplyhurt, so mortified, that in her recklessness and despair she wouldprobably throw herself away on the first man that offered! This was hischance, I told him; the one chance of his life; he was letting a pieceof idiotic pride wreck the probable happiness of years. He agreed withme with moans and weeps. He had the candor of a child and the torrentialsentiment of a German musician. Three hundred and four dollars andseventy-five cents stood between him and eternal bliss, and yet he wavedmy pocketbook from him! And all the while I saw myself losing Freddy.