Page 67 - 1917 Hartridge

found that William rose at 11 a. m.—when he had retired sufficiently early to warrant it; that he indeed took an hour for lunch, hut not for mental improvement; that he never darkened an office door, except to drop in for friendly chats with his friends; and that he always said “Good
morning” to Binks, when he came home, instead of “ Good night.” However, Lawyer Smith had a silent tongue and a professional smile,
and he continued to smile benignly on the young man and his fictitious re­ ports, a fact which warmed the cockles of William’s heart and made him celebrate his triumph over the easy mark by another drink.
Came the end of the year, and with it Ohadiah in all his glory. He and Penrose had another interview. In walked O. Smith. In an hour, he walked out again. From the room he had just vacated, came sounds of
violence to the furniture. Smith smiled.
Six months later Smith was sitting in his office, going over the after­ noon mail. After an hour’s work of determining the “ survival of the fit­ test,” he came to the last envelope in the pile, d'hls is what it held:
“ Dear Friend and Benefactor!” (He wondered whether this were sarcastic.)
“ Perhaps you’ve wondered where I’ve hidden myself for the past half year. Perhaps you haven’t. But you ought to know, anyway.
“After our last pleasant interview, I was what might he called a ‘penniless millionaire,’ and 1 had to get down and hustle. So I got work in an office. My sudden transition from my former state of luxury to that of
a $15 a week clerk was sudden and not without its humorous points, I sup­ pose. I rose at 6 o’clock every morning. I never knew the day began so early. I had a fourth floor front room (I was determined not to have the
conventional third floor hack) in Mrs. Prune’s boarding-house, where I learned to eat hash and fight for the cream, and comb my hair In front of a mirror that was a mirror In name only, and press my own trousers.
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