The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [282]
“He’s making a go of it,” Studs said.
Some day Phil Rolfe was going to be a piker alongside of Studs Lonigan!
“He’s a fine boy. He lives up to the faith, too, better than many of them that’s been horn in it. And I so often think what a shame it is that he’s a gambler.”
“He doesn’t do the gambling. He’s got the law of averages on his side.”
“It would be so much nicer, and Loretta would have so much more... more standing with the right kind of people, if he was in something else, real estate, insurance, bonds.”
“What could anybody do in real estate these days? Look at us with our building, and what Dad says about nearly all the big hotels and buildings being busted and in the hands of receivers. There’s more money today in running a race-track book, like Phil does, than in such rackets.”
“I know, but there must be something else besides gambling for a boy with as educated a girl as Loretta for his wife,” she said wistfully.
“He’s making good,” Studs said, yawning, getting up. “I guess I’ll go take a nap.”
“Yes, do, son, it will be good for you,” she said, peeling away at the potatoes.
II
“Well, Dad,” Studs said. looking to his left at his father, who sat at the head of the supper table, “I’m getting to feel pretty good these days.”
“That’s fine, Bill,” Lonigan said, the worried absorption seeming to lift from his ruddy face. “And I’m only sorry that I won’t be able to be giving you as much steady work to do as I used to. The deal on that apartment hotel job flopped. The fellow who was going to supply the fresh capital got cold feet. So we don’t get our contract, and it’s going to put quite a crimp in our style. I had counted a lot on getting it.”
“That’s a shame, Patrick. But you mustn’t worry. The Lord will provide for his own,” Mrs. Lonigan said.
“I hope so,” Lonigan said lifelessly, applying a knife and fork to his pork chop.
“Things will have to get better. That’s just what Mrs. Schwartz and I were saying to each other in the hall this morning,” she said.
“Maybe if we get a man in like Al Smith next year, and kick out Hoover, who’s only a tool of the Jew international bankers, we’ll turn the corner. This country is too great and too rich to be going to the dogs the way it seems to be these days. And you know, I was speaking to a fellow today who seems to know what he’s talking about, and that’s just what he was saying. But we got to get a strong man in the White House, a man like Al Smith or Mussolini, to kick out the bankers and grafting politicians and racketeers, and that’ll make America a country for Americans only. If we don’t do that, we give arguments right into the hands of the Reds who want anarchy here like they got in Russia,” Lonigan said, and Studs nodded.
“Oh, Patrick, I meant to tell you, Frances telephoned today, and they’re getting a new automobile.”
“Fine! Fine! I’m glad to hear it,” he listlessly said with a mouthful of food.
“What kind?” asked Martin, a tall, thin and gawky young man in his early twenties.
“She told me the make, but I forgot it now. You know, it’s such a comfort to know that Carroll and Phillip are so good to my girls. Only it would be so much nicer if Phillip could get into a more refined business.”
“Well, Mary, all business is much the same these days, dog eat dog, and when everything is said and done, the thing that counts is getting ahead. The boy’s doing that.”
“That’s true, Dad,” Studs said reflectively.
“And once you get the money, sock it, hang on to it! Don’t invest in anything. I met another fellow today who’s a good friend of Tam Gregory’s, the chain-store man who made such a profit a year or two ago when he sold out his Peoples Stores. I don’t know Tom personally, myself, but he’s an old-timer who knows the business of making money forward and backward and sidewise. He started with a little store over in