The Penguin Book of Gaslight Crime - Michael Sims [74]
Yes, Mr. Wallingford was in his suite. Would the gentleman give his name? Mr. Lamb produced a card, printed in careful imitation of engraving, and it gained him admission to the august presence, where he created some surprise by a sudden burst of laughter.
“Ex-cuse me!” he exclaimed. “But you’re the man that splashed mud on me the other night!”
When the circumstance was related, Mr. Wallingford laughed with great gusto and shook hands for the second time with his visitor. The incident helped them to get upon a most cordial footing at once. It did not occur to either of them, at the time, how appropriate it was that Mr. Wallingford should splash mud upon Mr. Lamb at their very first meeting.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Lamb?” inquired the large man.
“You advertised——” began the caller.
“Oh, you came about that position,” deprecated Mr. Wallingford, with a nicely shaded tone of courteous disappointment in his voice. “I am afraid that I am already fairly well suited, although I have made no final choice as yet. What are your qualifications?”
“There will be no trouble about that,” returned Mr. Lamb, straightening visibly. “I can satisfy anybody.” And Mr. Wallingford had the keynote for which he was seeking.
He knew at once that Mr. Lamb prided himself upon his independence, upon his local standing, upon his efficiency, upon his business astuteness. The observer had also the experience of Mr. Daw to guide him, and, moreover, better than all, here was Mr. Lamb himself. He was a broad-shouldered young man, who stood well upon his two feet; he dressed with a proper and decent pride in his prosperity, and wore looped upon his vest a watch chain that by its very weight bespoke the wearer’s solid worth. The young man was an open book, whereof the pages were embossed in large type.
“Now you’re talking like the right man,” said the prospective employer. “Sit down. You’ll understand, Mr. Lamb, that my question was only a natural one, for I am quite particular about this position, which is the most important one I have to fill. Our business is to be a large one. We are to conduct an immense plant in this city, and I want the office work organized with a thorough system from the beginning. The duties, consequently, would begin at once. The man who would become secretary of the Universal Covered Carpet Tack Company, would need to know all about the concern from its very inception, and until I have secured that exact man I shall take no steps toward organization.”
Word by word, Mr. Wallingford watched the face of Edward Lamb and could see that he was succumbing to the mental chloroform. However, a man who at thirty has accumulated five thousand is not apt to be numbed without struggling.
“Before we go any further,” interposed the patient, with deep, deep shrewdness, “it must be understood that I have no money to invest.”
“Exactly,” agreed Mr. Wallingford. “I stated that in my advertisement. To become secretary it will be necessary to hold one share of stock, but that share I shall give to the right applicant. I do not care for him to have any investment in the company. What I want is the services of the best man in the city, and to that end I advertised for one who had been an expert book-keeper and who knew all the office routine of conducting a large business, agreeing to start such a man with a salary of two hundred dollars a month. That advertisement stated in full all that I expect from the one who secures this position—his expert services. I may say that you are only the second candidate who has had the outward appearance of being able to fulfill the requirements. Actual efficiency would naturally have to be shown.”
Mr. Wallingford was now quite coldly insistent. The proper sleep had been induced.
“For fifteen years,” Mr. Lamb now hastened to advise him, “I have been employed by the A. J. Dorman Manufacturing Company, and can refer you to them for everything you