U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [427]
"The first time I've had my overal s off in a year," said Charley, laughing. The cold stung when they stepped out of the revolving doors. "You know, Charley, there's been quite a little talk about you fel ers on the street. . . . Askew-Merritt went up five points yesterday. The other day there was a fel er from Detroit, a crackerjack fel er . . . you know the Tern outfit . . . looking al over for you. We'l have lunch to-gether next time he's in town." When they got to the corner under the el an icy blast of wind lashed their faces and brought tears to their eyes. The street was crowded; men, errandboys, pretty girl stenographers, al had the same worried look and pursed lips Nat Benton had. "Plenty cold today."Benton was gasping, tugging at his coatcol ar. "These steamheated of-fices soften a fel er up." They ducked into a building and went down into the warm hotrol s smel of a basement
-198-restaurant. Their faces were stil tingling from the cold when they had sat down and were studying the menucards.
"Do you know," Benton said, "I've got an idea you boys stand in the way of making a little money out there."
"It's sure been a job gettin' her started," said Charley as he put his spoon into a plate of peasoup. He was hungry.
"Every time you turn your back somethin' breaks down and everythin' goes cockeyed. But now I've got a wonder-ful guy for a foreman. He's a Heinie used to work for the Fokker outfit."
Nat Benton was eating rawroastbeef sandwiches and
buttermilk. "I've got no more digestion than . . .""Than John D. Rockefel er," put in. Charley. They laughed. Benton started talking again. "But as I was saying, I don't know anything about manufacturing but it's always been my idea that the secret of moneymaking in that line of business was discovering proper people to work for you. They work for you or you work for them. That's about the size of it. After al you fel ers turn out the product out there in Long Island City, but if you want to make the money you've got to come down here to make it. . . . Isn't that true?"
Charley looked up from the juicy sirloin he was just about to cut. He burst out laughing. "I guess," he said.
"A man'ud be a damn fool to keep his nose on his draftin'-board al his life." They talked about golf for a while, then when they were having their coffee, Nat Benton said,
"Charley, I just wanted to pass the word along, on account of you being a friend of old Ol ie's and the Humphries and al that sort of thing . . . don't you boys sel any of your stock. If I were you I'd scrape up al the cash you could get ahold of for a margin and buy up any that's around loose. You'l have the chance soon."
"You think she'l keep on risin'?"
"Now you keep this under your hat . . . Merritt and that crowd are worried. They're sel ing, so you can expect
-199-a drop. That's what these Tern people in Detroit are wait-ing for to get in cheap, see, they like the looks of your little concern. . . . They think your engine is a whiz.
. . . If it's agreeable to you I'd like to handle your brok-erage account, just for old times'
sake, you understand." Charley laughed. "Gosh, I hadn't pictured myself with a brokerage account . . . but by heck, you may be right."
"I wouldn't like to see you wake up one morning and find yourself out on the cold cold pavement, see, Charley." After they'd eaten Nat Benton asked Charley if he'd ever seen the stockexchange operating. "It's interesting to see if a fel er's never seen it," he said and led Charley across Broadway where the lashing wind cut their faces and down a narrow street shaded by tal buildings into a crowded vestibule. "My, that cold nips your ears," he said.
"You ought to see it out where I come from," said Char-ley. They went up in an elevator and came out in a little room where some elderly parties in uniform greeted Mr. Benton with considerable respect. Nat signed in a book and they were let out through a smal door into the visitors'
gal ery and stood a minute looking down into a great greenish hal like a railroadstation