U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [466]
"Thataboy," said Eddy Sawyer, pouring out two more and putting away the whiskeybottle.
"That's how al the best stories begin." He pressed a buzzer and a curlyhaired stenographer with a pretty pink dol face came in and sat down with her notebook at the other side of the desk. While he was fumbling through his story, Charley
-289-kept repeating to himself in the back of his head, "Now, bo, don't make an ass of yourself the first day." Before they were through Farrel stuck his head in the door and said to come along, the crowd was waiting.
"Wel , did you get al fixed up? . . . Charley, I want you to meet our salesmanager . . . Joe Stone, Charley Anderson. And Mr. Frank and Mr. O'Brien, our battery of legal talent, and Mr. Bledsoe, he's in charge of output
. . . that's your department."
Charley shook a number of hands; there was a slick
black head with hair parted in the middle, a pair of bald heads and a steelgrey head with hair bristling up like a shoebrush, noseglasses, tortoiseshel glasses, one smal mustache. "Sure mike," Eddy Sawyer was stuttering away nervously. "I've got enough on him to retire on the black-mail any time now."
"That's a very good starter, young man," said Cyrus Bledsoe, the greyhaired man, gruffly.
"I hope you've got some more notions left in the back of your head."
"Check," said Charley.
They al , except Bledsoe who growled that he never ate lunch, went out with him to the Athletic Club where they had a private diningroom and cocktails set out. Going up in the elevator a voice behind him said, "How's the boy, Charley?" and Charley turned round to find himself face to face with Andy Merritt. Andy Merritt's darkgrey suit seemed to fit him even better than usual. His sour smile was unusual y thin.
"Why, what are you doing here?" Charley blurted out.
" Detroit," said Andy Merritt, "is a town that has al-ways interested me extremely."
"Say, how's Joe making out?" Andy Merritt looked pained and Charley felt he ought to have kept his mouth shut. "Joe was in excel ent health when I last saw him," said Andy. It turned out that Andy was lunching with them too.
-290-When they were working on the filetmignon, Farrel got up and made a speech about how this luncheon was a beginning of a new spirit in the business of manufacturing airplane parts and motors and that the time had come for the airplane to quit hanging on the apronstrings of the automotive business because airplanes were going to turn the automobile men into a lot of bicycle manufac-turers before you could say Jack Robinson. A mil ion-dol ar business had to be handled in a mil iondol ar way. Then everybody yel ed and clapped and Farrel held up his hand and described Charley Anderson's career as a war ace and an inventor and said it was a very happy day, a day he'd been waiting for a long time, when he could wel-come him into the Tern flock. Then Eddy Sawyer led a cheer for Anderson and Charley had to get up and say how he was glad to get out there and be back in the great open spaces and the real manufacturing center of this country, and when you said manufacturing center of this country what you meant was manufacturing center of the whole bloody world. Eddy Sawyer led another cheer and then they al settled down to eat their peachmelba. When they were getting their hats from the checkroom downstairs Andy Merritt tapped Charley on the shoulder and said, "A very good speech. . . . You know I'd felt for some time we ought to make a break. . . . You can't run a bigtime business with smal town ideas. That's the trouble with poor old Joe who's a prince, by the way smal town ideas. . . ."
Charley went around to see the apartment. Taki had
everything fixed up in great shape, flowers in the vases and al that sort of