U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [13]
Yours in search for Truth,
The last one was a grimy door in the back beside the toilet. The goldleaf had come off the letters, but he was able to spel out from the outlines:
THE GENERAL OUTFITTING AND MER-
CHANTIZING CORPORATION
Then he saw a card on the wal beside the door with a hand holding a torch drawn out on it and under it the words "Truthseeker Inc." He tapped gingerly on the glass. No answer. He tapped again.
Come in . . . Don't knock, cal ed out a deep voice. Fainy found himself stuttering as he opened the door and stepped into a dark, narrow room completely fil ed up by two huge rol top desks:
Please, I cal ed to see Mr. Bingham, sir.
At the further desk, in front of the single window sat a big man with a big drooping jaw that gave him a little of the expression of a setter dog. His black hair was long and curled a little over each ear, on the back of his head was a broad black felt hat. He leaned back in his chair and looked Fainy up and down.
How do you do, young man? What kind of books are
you inclined to purchase this morning? What can I do for you this morning? he boomed. Are you Mr. Bingham, sir, please?
This is Doc Bingham right here before you.
Please, sir, I . . . I came about that job.
Doc Bingham's expression changed. He twisted his
mouth as if he'd just tasted something sour. He spun round in his swivelchair and spat into a brass spittoon in the corner of the room. Then he turned to Fainy again and leveled a fat finger at him, Young man, how do you spel experience?
E . . . x . . . p . . . er . . . er . . . er . . . i a . . . n . . .
That'l do . . . No education . . . I thought as
-31-EMMANUEL R. BINGHAM, D.D.
Fainy was scared. The train got to his station too soon. He had fifteen minutes to walk two blocks in. He loafed along the street, looking in store windows. There was a golden pheasant, stuffed, in a taxidermist's; above it hung a big flat greenish fish with a sawtoothed bil from which dangled a label:
SAWFISH (pristis perrotetti)
Habitat Gulf and Florida waters. Frequents shallow bays and inlets. Maybe he wouldn't go at al . In the back of the window was a lynx and on the other side a bobtailed cat, each on its limb of a tree. Suddenly he caught his breath. Held be late. He went tearing off down the block.
He was breathless and his heart was pounding to beat the cars when he reached the top of the fourth flight of stairs. He studied the groundglass doors on the landing; THE UNIVERSAL CONTACT COMPANY
F. W. Perkins
Assurance
THE WINDY CITY MAGIC AND NOVELTY
COMPANY
Dr. Noble
Hospital and Sickroom Supplies
-30-The last one was a grimy door in the back beside the toilet. The goldleaf had come off the letters, but he was able to spel out from the outlines:
THE GENERAL OUTFITTING AND MER-
CHANTIZING CORPORATION
Then he saw a card on the wal beside the door with a hand holding a torch drawn out on it and under it the words "Truthseeker Inc." He tapped gingerly on the glass. No answer. He tapped again.
Come in . . . Don't knock, cal ed out a deep voice. Fainy found himself stuttering as he opened the door and stepped into a dark, narrow room completely fil ed up by two huge rol top desks:
Please, I cal ed to see Mr. Bingham, sir.
At the further desk, in front of the single window sat a big man with a big drooping jaw that gave him a little of the expression of a setter dog. His black hair was long and curled a little over each ear, on the back of his head was a broad black felt hat. He leaned back in his chair and looked Fainy up and down.
How do you do, young man? What kind of books are
you inclined to purchase this morning? What can I do for you this morning? he boomed. Are you Mr. Bingham, sir, please?
This is Doc Bingham right here before you.
Please, sir, I . . . I came about that job.
Doc Bingham's expression changed. He twisted his
mouth as if he'd just