Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 260, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1910 — The Parsimonions Cocktail [ARTICLE]

The Parsimonions Cocktail

By Edgar Franklin.

Here is Something Better Than Savings-Banks or C. S. Bonds. Get the habit.

Copyright, The Frank A. Munsey Co. CHAPTER. VI. SUCCESS AND ESCAPE. Of course, even in a situation like this, there are more things to occupy a real, genuine millionaire than a sanatorium. A good, first-water millionaire has to get out the clipping-machine each morning and shear off a bushel or two of coupons that>fall due that day. Harris, naturally, did the menial, manual part of the labor. He brought out memoranda, after the two doctors left, and presented them for consideration; and by the time that Banks had dictated one hundred and three letters and consumed a lunch meanwhile and had gone on dictating further, it was long past six o’clock. Obviously, he couldn’t go to the office that day. Anyway, he had no ambition to go to the office. The next task of the indefatigable millionaire was to make for the sanatorium and turn out his three x friends. Perhaps—and he heartily hoped so—they were not yet altogether cured of the habit of strewing money broadcast. In that case he would—well, he would do whatever he could; and with Banks the “whatever” usually meant success. He called for the motor and it came. The fur-coat was donned once more and the directions given; and Mr. Banks was making for the Cure. The trip was short; this time, too, it was sweet; for he had the bill of sale tucked neatly in his inner pocket and he was going to take charge—and wreck the place. The motor stopped before the big brownstone house and he alighted happily and made for steps. He rang the bell, and the door was opened by a black-clad attendant he had not encountered the night before. Banks walked in. “I have bought this place!” he announced pleasantly. “Show me to the doctor’s office and then 1 send me whoever Is in charge!” The attendant reeled against the wall and gasped aloud. Having completed this necessary performance, he tottered toward the rear and opened a door; and Mr. Banks was escorted into a tidy, officelike place with a writ-ing-table and a variety of books about the wall.

He sat down with a heavy grunt. . “Mr. Seabright, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Barkus are here for treatment, aren’t they?” he inquired. “Yes, sir!” “Send them to me.” “I think they’re just dressing from their afternoon nap, sir. They had their last treatment today, sir.” “All right. Send them to me when they’re dressed. Meanwhile, sent me the man who is in charge here at this moment.” “Well, that’s Mr.—” “Send him to •me!” growled Mr. Banks. The man stared, mouthed, departed. Banks sat down at the desk and fell into thoughful consideration. Minutes passed. His joy, at entering, was beginning to sour. After all, what was the use of it? He had spent too much; that needed no confirming. He fell to considering matters with what calm he could. There was the ten thousand for the purchase; he could better have afforded a raid by the police. He had the whole matter in his hands, to be sure, but there was the gasoline consumed in getting here! That must have cost, according to his estimate, I st ™ ast nineteen cents. And the chauftanr had consumed, approximately, two dollars and thirty-four cents’ worth of time! Oh, it wouldn’t do! It would never, never He was getting altogether too liberal!" If that dose-he took last night had inculcated a sense of economy in him he must have three or four 4ore-like it! * That was all. He owned the institution now and he could take the needed treatment without charge and —the blond man entered without knocking and Banks faced him with ajiaseless glare. - “So you’re in charge when the doctor’s away?” he inquired sourly. “Yes, sir.” I have bought the place, and I’m flhe boss here now!” said Mr. Banks pleasantly. “Hereafter you will take my orders and no one else’s!” “Very well, sir.” “And for the first thing, you’ll get Seabright Tate and Barkus out of their rooms and out of the house.” “They are out' of their rooms already, sir, I think, and preparing ♦o leave. Their time is up today.” “It is, eh?” Banks grunted grudgingly. “Well, I’m glad of it! Here, you!” “Yes, sir?” “Don’t be in such a devil of a hurry to leave. I want another dose of that stuff I had last night!” “What, sir?” The blonde Attendant stared hard. “I say that I want aapther dose of that parsimonious cocktail you gave me yesterday evening! I’m getting too infernally liberal and—” -. •• “Well, I know the bottles pretty well, sir, but i wouldn’t administer anything except by the doctor’s orders, sir!" said the blond man firmly. “You wouldn’t—what?”

“I wouldn’t like to administer anything without a specific order, sir!” insisted the attendant doggedly. Banks sat back. His eyes sparked, as only Banks’ eyes can sparkle. He took in the blond man with a gaze so horrible that the latter shriveled Instinctively. He raised his finger and shook it threateningly. r , “You beastly rascal!” he cried. “You dare to disobey my orders, when I tell you to do a thing? Do you imagine that I’ve bought this place simply for amusement or as a business proposition? Here’s the bill of sale! Look at it!” The attendant looked obediently. “All right?” snarled Banks. “It —seems to be, sir!” “Then put that parsimonious cocktail together and do It quick!” snapped the millionaire. “I’m spending altogether too much money and I propose to have it stopped. I’ll take the regular treatment when I have time. Just now, you put me together a drink that’ll hold .up the money-spending Instinct for tonight. Move!” The attendant'stared at him. His tone was distinctly ugly; and a disinterested observer might have deducted that the attendant was not accustomed to distinctly ugly directions. He straightened up, did that attendant. He surveyed Banks again, carefully and thoughfully; and at last his lips compressed as he moved slowly toward a case of bottles. “Very well, sir!” he said decidedly. He found a glass and rinsed it canfully. He poured little portions from certain bottles into a graduate; and at last he poured the whole mass into the glass and filled it with cold water from the tap; and he brought it to Banks with a bow. The millionaire looked at it. He also looked at the stony eyes of the attendant, and he sneered as he grasped the glass and raised it to his lips. , “Here’s looking at the cuss that invented the art of spending money!” he remarked as he drained the contents suddenly. The draft was down. Banks wiped his lips and snorted on general principles. The attendant waited frigidly. “Well, get me Seabright and Tat—” the millionaire began angrily. • As if prearranged, a draft blew open the door of the office. In the corridor without stood Mr. Seabright and Mr. late and Mr. Barkus. In their hands they held suit-cases; on their faces were smiles. And the smiles turned to looks of amazement as they caught sight of Banks. “Come in here!” said the latter. “Not on your life!” responded Seabright cheerfully. “Our term’s over and we’re going away from here.” “Well, before you go—” “There’s no before we go!” answered Mr. Barkus. “We’re going right now, Worden!” “But—” Seabright burst into a jovial laugh as he stuck his head through the door of the study. “Worden, do you remember the evenings we used to spend up at the hotel ?” he queried. “I do, and—” “Well, if we decide to do it after this course of sprouts, we’ll meet you there about midnight!” The door closed. There was a laugh in the corridor of such ringing and nasal character that Banks felt in his very bones that not one of the trio would ever spend another cent in that, hotel.

He sighed. He felt a desire to use profanity. And he realized that the attendant was altogether gone! He looked around rather amazedly. He called aloud—and before the call had died away the attendant entered suddenly. “There is a delegation—” he began. “A what?” Banks sat up and snapped aloud. “A delegation which wishes to see the head of this establishment!” said the attendant imperturbably. “Well, you—you—you send them right in here—whatever your name is!” the millionaire responded. “'I don’t know what the devil a delegation’s doing here, but if they’re here— ’’ “Well, they’re from the hotels and the restaurant and the theatres along Broadway, and —” He broke off. The attendant vanished mysteriously, and through the door of the office a stream of men began to come. They were well-dressed, well-fea-tured men. They looked like men of affairs. And started to come in, they continued coming in! There seemed to be no end of ftiem. Ten were in the efflee now—and then twenty—and then forty—and then sixty—until the small place was jammed to the very doors with angry-faced men of otherwise good personal appearance! They were muttering, too, audibly. They kept on muttering until the man in the lead held up a hand with: “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!’’ The noise ceased. The gentleman turned to Banks with: “Am I correctly informed that you are the head of this establishment?” “If any one has informed you to that effect, they were eminently correct!” responded Mr. Banks. “And you are here maintaining an institution for the cure of the moneyspending habit?” “I am!” said Banks doggedly, grimlyj defiantly. The man straightened up. “This, sir, is a delegation of the hotel owners, the theater managers, the restaurant proprietors along Broadway!” he announced. “And what the devil do you suppose I care about that?’’ asked Mr. Banks. “You are ruining our business, sir!”

said the speaker earnestly. “You have already, in the past two weeks, robbed us of thousands —If not of hundreds of thousands! You have taken out best patrons and rendered them parsimonious in the wildest extreme. Personally, as proprietor of the Hotel St. Sergius, I may say that certain parties who have never spent less than fifty dollars in an evening, have passed through your damnable institution and are at present living upon club sandwiches and ham sandwiches and milk instead of—”/ A wild strident voice rose in the rear of the room. “Blast the eating!” it said. “Eating ain’t every thing. Looka, me! Just look at Percival Walderford, for one case! He always had a full, first box Thursdays! He did, didn’t he? You all know It? He was there every Thursday night with a crowd, and—” A roar arose—wild and incoherent. As it quieted down, the voice came again: “And now what does he do? What does he do since he left this devilish place?” Gasp. “He stands in line and waits for a quarter seat in the top balcony! I’ve seen him do It myself Jn the last week, and he was one of the first treated here, and—” “What Ice does that cut when it comps to the profit a man makes out of fizz water?” screamed a new voice. “Didji’t young Dilbury used to buy from two to twenty quarts every night before he landed here? What? And now he drinks beer and he comes alone and—” A renewed chorus of screams interrupted him. The voice was killed. Banks, sitting white and dazed, heard the chairman: “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!! Gentlemen! !!” A perfect volley of roaring sounds drowned him. The spokesman stood upon a chair and waved his hands and his lips moved aimlessly. He tried hard, apparently, to get control of his fellow-visitors, but they were past all control!

They roared—shrieked —screamed— waved their hats! Now and then, one leaped from the floor. And at last, out of all the turmoil, came the logical conclusion, in a biting, strident voice, of: “LYNCH HIM!” Several 'vocal chords in Banks' throat began to vibrate together. The result was queer, but inaudible in the din. He started from his chair, then, with this indefinable howl of mingled rage and terror; and even as he landed upon his feet the cheery chorus went up of: “Lynch him! Do for him! Hang the rascal! Down with him! Grab him, you, Weltheim, and pass him over this way! Lynch him! Kill him—” Now it is a matter of certain record that nobody has ever accused Banks of want of action. When there is need of action on Banks’ part, Banks, so to speak, is on the job. In this case the requirement seemea to be absence —not absence fifteen minutes or half an hour from then, but immediate absence. Banks, therefore, filled the requirement. He did the act with the simple effectiveness of the true artist. The back yard was seven feet below. Banks, therefore, opened the window and stepped down the seven feet with one step. He had a marked aversion to being lynched anyway. It was quite a long step and it jarred Banks considerably. Nevertheless, he landed on the ground alive and on his feet; and within something like the thousandth part of a quarter of a second he had stepped into the house and evidently into the kitchen. There were two large, hearty, greasy negro ladies there. There,was also the blond attendant, consuming a section of apple-pie with real gusto. Banks grabbed the attendant by the free hand and cried aloud: “Bill, if there’s a side or a back entrance to this place, get me out of it within five seconds and I’ll give you five hundred dollars!” He himself could not altogether understand the five-hundred-dollar part, but he had said it and he would stick to it. Indeed, he proved the fact by producing the five-hundred-dollar note and thrusting it into the attendant’s hand with a positive smile! The attendant also smiled. Further, he accepted the bill and took Mr. Banks gently by the elbow end piloted him. He led the way into the back yard again. He pushed Banks rapidly across it. He found a gate and he thrust Banks through it “Thank you very much, sir,” he said. And he added: "I wish to Moses tile stuff had had a longer time to work on you. I’ll have your machine here in a second, sir!” , Whereupon he effaced himself from the scene, and Banks rubbed his eyes and looked around dazedly. It was decidedly a dark street, but he thought he knew where he was. He leaned against the brick wall which ranged along the end of the yard, an 1 rubbed his eyes again. And just then his automobile swerved around the corner. He climbed into it “with feverish haste. Standing up, he looked back over the wall at the house. The windows in that office, lately dim in the light o's the table-lamp, were brilliantly lighted now. More than that, they were open, ana men were at them—men with silk hats and derby hats and soft hats. And they were climbing through and dropping Into the yard in search of him. And they seemed to flow out through the windows as steadily as water coming through the sluice of a mill-wheel! Banks drew the robe about him comfortably and grinned. "Home!” he said. Then he changed his. mind.

“Go up to the botbl—yhs, the same old hotel—instead!” he said. "They might possibly be there, and if they are—” The start-from-the-seat device went off like a Gatling gun, and his words were drowned. • (To be continued.