Michael O'Halloran — Establishing Protectorates

"Isn't your world rather full of nice men, Mickey?"

Mickey renewed his grip.

His eyes were pleading, the white light on his brow was shining, his voice was irresistibly sweet: "You just bet my world is full of nice men, packed like sardines; but they'll all scrooge up a little and make room for you on the top layer among the selects!

Come on now!

Rustle for your place before we revolve and leave you.

All your life you'll be sorry if you make that scoop, and kill Miss Leslie, and shame 'darling old Daddy,' and ruin my boss.

Oh I say Mr. Chaffner, you _can't!

_ You can't ever sleep nights again, if you do!

They haven't ever done anything to you.

You'll be the _nicest_ man of all, if you'll _tell me what to do_.

'Twon't take you but a second, 'cause you _know_.

Oh tell me, for the love of God tell me, Mr. Chaffner!

_You'll be the nicest man I know, if you'll tell me_."

The editor looked down in Mickey's compelling eyes.

He laid his hand on the lad's brow and said: "That would be worth the price of any scoop I ever pulled off, Mickey.

Are you going to be a lawyer or write that poetry for me?"

"If I'd ever even thought of law, _this_ would cook me," said Mickey.

"Poetry it is, as soon as I earn enough to pay for finding out how to do it right."

"And when you find out, will you come on my staff, and work directly under me?"

asked Mr. Chaffner.

"Sure!"

promised Mickey.

"I'd rather do it than anything else in the world.

It would suit me fine.

That is, if you're coming in among my nice men----" Mr. Chaffner held out his hand.

"This is going to cost me something in prestige and in cash," he said, "but Mickey, you make it _worthwhile_.

Here are your instructions: _don't_ deliver that letter!

Cut for Minturn and give it to him.

Tell him if he wants me, to call any time inside an hour, and that he hasn't longer than noon to make good.

He'll understand.

If you can't beat a taxi on foot, take one.

Have you money?"

"Yes," said Mickey, "but just suppose he isn't there and I can't find him?"

"Then find his wife, and tell her to call me."

"All right!

Thanks, boss!

You're simply great!"

Mickey took the taxi and convinced the driver he was in a hurry.

He danced in the elevator, ran down the hall, and into Mr. Minturn's door.

There he stopped abruptly, for he faced Miss Winton and Mrs. Minturn, whose paling face told Mickey that he was stamped on her memory as she was on his.

He pulled off his cap, and spoke to Mr. Minturn.

"Could I see you a minute?"

he asked.

"Certainly!

Step this way.

Excuse us ladies."

Mickey showed the letter, told what had caused it to be written, and that he had gone to Mr. Chaffner instead of delivering it, and what instructions had been given him there.

Mr. Minturn picked up the telephone and called Mr. Chaffner.

When he got him he merely said: "This is Minturn.

What's the amount, and where does he bank his funds?

Thank you very much indeed."

Then he looked at Mickey.

"Till noon did you say?"

"Yes," cried Mickey breathlessly, "and 'tisn't so long!"

"No," said Mr. Minturn, "it isn't. Ask Mrs. Minturn if I may speak with her a moment."

"Shall I come back or stay there?"

inquired Mickey.

"Come back," said Mr. Minturn.

"I may need you."

Mickey stood before Mrs. Minturn.

"Please will you speak with Mr. Minturn a minute?"

"Excuse me Leslie," said the lady, rising, and entering the private room.

There she turned to Mickey.

"I remember you very well," she said, with a steady voice.

"You needn't shrink from me.

I've done all in my power to atone.

It will never be possible for me to think of forgiving myself; but you'll forgive me, won't you?"

"Sure!

Why lady, I'm awful sorry for you."

"I'm sorry for myself," said she.

"What was it you wanted, Mr. Minturn?"

"Suppose you tell Mrs. Minturn about both your visits here," suggested Mr. Minturn to Mickey.

"Sure!"

said Mickey.

"You see it was like this lady.

This morning Mr. Bruce's head is down, and if he doesn't get help before noon, he and Miss Leslie and all those nice people are in trouble.

I thought Mr. Minturn ought to know, so I slipped in and told him."

"What is the trouble, lad?"

asked Mrs. Minturn.

"Why you see Miss Leslie's 'darling old Daddy' is one of the city officials, and of course Mr. Bruce left him 'til last, because he would a-staked his life he'd find the man he was hunting before he got to his office, and he _didn't!

_" "What, James?"

said the lady, turning hurriedly.

"Tell her about it, Mickey," said Mr. Minturn calmly.

"Well there ain't much to tell," said Mickey.

"My boss he just kept stacking up figures; two or three times he thought he had his man and then he'd strike a balance; and the men whose records he searched kept getting madder, and Mr. Winton went west to sell some land.

Someway he's been gone a week longer than he expected; and my boss is all through except him, and now the other men say if he doesn't begin on Mr. Winton's books right away, _they_ will, and he told my boss _not to 'til he got back_.

A while ago I was in the _Herald_ office talking to Mr. Chaffner, whose papers I've sold since I started and I was telling him what nice friends I had, and how Mr. Bruce and Miss Leslie were engaged, and he like to ate me up.

When I couldn't see why, he told me about investigations he had his men, like I'm going to be, make, and sometimes they get a 'scoop' on the men appointed to do the job, and he told me he had a 'scoop' on this, and if I saw trouble coming toward my boss, I was to tell him and maybe--he didn't say sure, but _maybe_ he'd do something."

"Oh James!"

cried Mrs. Minturn.

"Wait dear!

Go on Mickey," said Mr. Minturn.

"Well," said Mickey, "the elevated jumped the track this morning when my boss got a letter saying if he didn't go on at once with Mr. Winton's office, somebody else would; and the people who have been in the air ever since are due to land at noon, and it's pretty quick now, and they are too nice for any use.

Did you ever know finer people?"

"No I never did," said Mrs. Minturn; "but James, I don't understand.

Tell me quickly and plainly."

"Chaffner just gave me the figures," he said, holding over a slip of paper.

"If that amount is to Mr. Winton's credit on his account with the city, at the Universal Bank before noon--nothing at all.

If it's _not_, disgrace for them, and I started it by putting Bruce on the case.

I'll raise as much as I can, but I can't secure enough by that time without men knowing it.

Mr. Winton has undoubtedly gone to try to secure what he needs; but he's going to be too late.

There never has been a worse time to raise money in the history of this country."

"But if _money_ is the trouble," said Mrs. Minturn, "you said you never would touch what I put in your name for yourself, why not use it for him?

If that isn't enough, I will gladly furnish the remainder.

That I'm not a stranded, forsaken woman is due to Leslie Winton; all I have wouldn't be big enough price to pay for you, and my boys, and my precious home.

Be quick James!"

Mr. Minturn was calling the Universal Bank.

Mickey and Mrs. Minturn waited anxiously.

They involuntarily drew together, and the woman held the boy in a close grip, while her face alternately paled and flushed, and both of them were breathing short.

"I want the cashier!"

Mr. Minturn was saying.

"Don't his voice just make you feel like you were on the rock of ages?"

whispered Mickey.

Mrs. Minturn smiling nodded.

"Hello, Mr. Freeland.

This is Minturn talking--James Minturn.

You will remember some securities I deposited with you not long ago?

I wish to use a part of them to pay a debt I owe Mr. Winton.

Kindly credit his account with--oh, he's there in the bank?

Well never mind then.

I

didn't know he was back yet.

Let it go!

I'll see him in person.

And you might tell him that his daughter is at my office.

Yes, thank you.

No you needn't say anything about that to him; we'll arrange it ourselves.

Good-bye!"

"Now where am I at?"

demanded Mickey.

"I don't think you know, Mickey," said Mr. Minturn, "and I am sure I don't, but I have a strong suspicion that Mr. Winton will be here in a few minutes, and if his mission has been successful, his face will tell it; and if he's in trouble, that will show; and then we will know what to do.

Mr. Bruce would like to know he is here, and at the bank I think."

"I'll go tell him right away," said Mickey.

Douglas was walking the floor as Mickey entered.

"You delivered the letter?"

he cried.

Mickey shook his head, producing the envelope.

"You didn't!"

shouted Bruce.

"You didn't!

Thank God!

Oh, thank God you _didn't!

_" "Aw-w-ah!"

protested Mickey.

"Why didn't you?"

demanded Douglas.

"Well you see," said Mickey, "me and Mr. Chaffner of the _Herald_ were talking a while ago about some poetry I'm going to write for his first page, soon now--I've always sold his papers you know, so I sort of belong--and I happened to tell him I was working for you, and how fine you were, and about your being engaged to Miss Leslie, and he seemed to kind of think you was heading for trouble; he just plain _said so_.

I

was so scared I begged him not to let _that_ happen.

I told him how everything was, and finally I got him to promise that if you _did_ get into trouble he'd help you, at least he _almost_ promised.

You see he's been a newspaper man so long, he eats it, and sleeps it, and he had a s'scoop'--" "'He had a scoop?'

" repeated Douglas.

"Yes!

A great one!

Biggest one in ten years!"

said the boy.

"He loved it so, that me trying to pry him loose from it was about like working to move the Iriquois Building with a handspike.

All he'd promise that first trip was that if I'd come and tell him when I saw you'd got into trouble, he'd _see_ what he could do."

"Wanted to pump you for material for his scoop, I suppose?"

commented Douglas.

"Wope!

Wope!

Back up!"

warned Mickey.

"He didn't pump me a little bit, and he didn't _try_ to.

He told me nearly three weeks ago just what _would_ happen about now, as he had things doped out, and they have.

I

didn't _think_ that letter should be delivered this morning, 'cause you had no business in 'darling old Daddy's' office if he said 'stay out.'

" In came Mickey's best flourish.

"_Why he mightn't a-been ready!

_" he exclaimed.

"He had his friend to help you remember, I heard Miss Leslie tell you he did.

And she told him to.

She told you he could have what she had, you remember of course.

He might a-had to use some of his office money real quick, to save a friend that he _had_ to save if it took all he had and all Miss Leslie had; and _that_ was right.

I asked you the other day if a man might use the money he handled, and you said yes, he was _expected_ to, if he had his books straight and the money in the bank when his time for accounting came.

'Tain't time to account yet; but you was doing this investigating among his bunch, and so I guess if he did use the money for his friend, he had to go on that trip he was too busy to take Miss Leslie, and sell something, or do something to get ready for you.

_That's_ all right, ain't it?"

"Yes, if he could _do_ it," conceded Douglas.

"Well he can!"

triumphed Mickey.

"He can just as easy, 'cause he's down at the Universal Bank doing it right now!"

"What?"

cried Douglas.

"Sure!"

said Mickey.

"Back on time!

At the bank fixing things so you can investigate all you want to.

What's the matter with 'darling old Daddy?'

_He's all right!

_ Go on and write your letter over, and tell them anxious, irritated gents, that you'll investigate 'til the basement and cupola are finished, just as soon as you make out the reports you are figuring up _now_.

That will give you time to act independent, and it will give Daddy time to be ready for you----" "Mickey, what if he didn't get the land sold?"

wavered Douglas.

"What if his trip was a failure?"

"Well that's fixed," said Mickey, stepping from one toe to the other.

"Don't ruffle your down about that.

If 'darling old Daddy' has bad luck, and for staking his money and his honour on his friend, he's going to get picked clean and dished up himself, why it's fixed so he _isn't!

_ See?"

"_It's fixed?

_" marvelled Douglas.

"Surest thing you know!"

cried Mickey.

"You've had your _Pertectorate_ all safe a long time, and didn't know it."

"Mickey, talk fast!

Tell me!

What do you mean?"

"Why that was fixed three weeks ago, I tell you," explained Mickey.

"When Mr. Chaffner said you would strike trouble, I wasn't surprised any, 'cause I've thought all the time you _would;_ and when you did, I went skinning to him, and he told me _not_ to deliver that letter; and he was grand, just something grand!

He told me what had to happen to save you, so I kept the letter, and scuttled for Mr. James Minturn, who started all this, and I just said to him, 'Chickens, home to roost,' or words like that; and he got on the wire with Chaffner, and 'stead of giving that 'scoop' to all Multiopolis and the whole world, he give Mr. Minturn a few figures on a scrap of paper that he showed to his nice lady--gosh you wouldn't ever believe she _was_ a nice lady or could be, but honest, Mr. Bruce, me and her has been holding hands for half an hour while we planned to help you out, and say, she's so nice, she's just peachy--and she's the _same_ woman.

I don't know how that happens, but she's the same woman who fired me and the nice lady from Plymouth, and now she _ain't_ the same, and these are the words she said: 'All I have on earth would not be enough to pay Leslie Winton for giving you back to me, and my boys, and my precious home.'

'Precious home!'

Do you get that?

After her marble palace, where she is now must look like a cottage on the green to her, but 'precious home' is what she said, and she ought to know----" "Mickey go on!

You were saying that Mr. Chaffner gave Mr. Minturn some figures--" prompted Douglas.

"Yes," said Mickey.

"His precious 'scoop,' so Mr. Minturn showed her, and she said just as quick to put that amount to Mr. Winton's credit at the Universal Bank, so he called the bank to tell them; when he got the cashier he found that 'darling old Daddy' was there that minute----" "'Was there?'

" cried Douglas.

"'_Was there_,'" repeated Mickey; "so Mr. Minturn backed water, and _then_ he told the cashier he needn't mention to Mr. Winton that he was going to turn over some securities he had there to pay a debt he owed him, 'cause now that he was home, they could fix it up between themselves.

But he told the cashier to tell Mr. Winton that Miss Leslie was in his office.

He said 'Daddy' would come to her the minute he could, and then if he was happy and all right, it meant that he had sold his land and made good; and if he was broke up, we would know what to do about putting the money to his credit.

The nice lady said to put a lot more than he needed, so if they did investigate they could see he had plenty.

See?

Mr. Minturn said we could tell the minute we saw him----" "Well young man, can you?"

inquired a voice behind them.

With the same impulse Douglas and Mickey turned to Mr. Winton and Leslie standing far enough inside the door to have heard all that had been said.

A slow red crept over Mickey's fair face.

Douglas sprang to his feet, his hand outstretched, words of welcome on his lips.

Mr. Winton put him aside with a gesture.

"I asked this youngster a question," he said, "and I'm deeply interested in the answer.

_Can you?

_" Mickey stepped forward, taking one long, straight look into the face of the man before him; then his exultant laugh trilled as the notes of Peter's old bobolink bird on the meadow fence.

"Surest thing you know!"

he cried in ringing joy.

"You're tired, you need washing, sleep, and a long rest, but there isn't any glisteny, green look on your face.

It's been with you, like I told Mr. Chaffner it's in the Bible; only with you, it's been even more than a man 'laying down his life for his friend,' it was a near squeak, but you made it!

Gee, you made it!

I should say I _could_ tell!"

Mr. Winton caught Mickey, lifting him from his feet.

"God made a jewel after my heart when he made you lad," he said.

"If you haven't got a father, I'm a candidate for the place."

"Gee, you're the nicest man!"

said Mickey.

"If I was out with a telescope searching for a father, I'd make a home run for you; but you see I'm fairly well fixed.

Here's my boss, too fine to talk about, that I work for to earn money to keep me and my family; there's Peter, better than gold, who's annexed both me and my child; there's Mr. Chaffner punching me up every time I see him about my job for him, soon as I finish school; I'd _like_ you for a father, only I'm crazy about Peter.

Just you come and see _Peter_, and you'll understand----" "I'll be there soon," said Mr. Winton.

"I have reasons for wanting to know him thoroughly.

And by the way, how do you do, Douglas?

How is the great investigation coming on?

'Fine!'

I'm glad to hear it.

Push it with all your might, and finish up so we can have a month on Atwater without coming back and forth.

I feel as if I'd need about that much swimming to make me clean, as the young man here suggests; travelling over the west in midsummer is neither cool nor cleanly; but it's great, when things sell as ours did.

Land seems to be moving, and there's money under the surface; nobody has lost so much, they are only economizing; we must do that ourselves, but Swain and I are both safe, so we shall enjoy a few years of work to recoup some pretty heavy losses; we're not worth what we were, but we are even, with a home base, the love of God big in our hearts, and doubly all right, since if we couldn't have righted ourselves, our friends would have saved us, thanks to this little live wire on my left!"

"Oh Daddy, if you'd searched forever, you couldn't have found a better name for Mickey!"

cried Leslie.

"Come on Douglas let's go home and rest."

"Just as soon as I write and start Mickey with a note," said Douglas.

"Go ahead, I'll be down soon."

He turned to his desk, wrote a few lines, and sealing them, handed the envelope to the waiting boy.

"City Hall," he said.

"And Mickey, I see the whole thing.

It will take some time to figure just what I do owe you----" "Aw-a-ah g'wan!"

broke in Mickey, backing away.

"Mickey, we'll drive you to take the note, and then you come with us," said Douglas.

"Thanks, but it would try my nerve," said Mickey, "and I must help Peter move in the pump!"

CHAPTER XX

_Mickey's Miracle_ That night Mickey's voice, shrill in exuberant rejoicing, preceded him down the highway, so the Hardings, all busy working out their new plans for comfort, understood that something unusually joyous had happened.

Peaches sat straighter in her big pillow-piled chair, leaned forward, and smilingly waited.

"Ain't he happy soundin'?"

she said to Mrs. Harding, who sat near her sewing.

"I guess he has thought out the best po'try piece yet.

Mebby this time it will be good enough for the first page of the _Herald_."

"Young as he is, that's not likely," said the literal woman.

"There's no manner of doubt in my mind but that he _can_ do great newspaper work when he finishes his education and makes his start; but I think Mr. Bruce will use all his influence to turn him toward law."

"Mr. Douglas Bruce is a swell gentl'man," said Peaches, "and me and Mickey just loves him for his niceness to us; but we got _that_ all settled.

Mickey is going to write the po'try piece for the first page of the _Herald_--that's our paper--and then we are going to make all my pieces into a bu'ful book, like I got it started here."

Peaches picked up a small notebook, scrupulously kept, and lovingly glanced over the pages, on each of which she had induced Mickey to write in his plainest script one section of her nightly doggerel; and if he failed from the intense affairs of the day, she left a blank page for him to fill later.

Taken together, the remainder of her possessions were as nothing to Peaches compared with that book.

Not an hour of the day passed that it was not in her fingers, every line of it she knew by heart, and she learned more from it than all Mickey's other educational efforts.

Peter scraped a piece of fine black walnut furniture free from the accumulated varnish of years, and ran an approving hand over the smooth dark surface, seasoned with long use.

He smiled at her.

She smiled back, falling into a little chant that had been on her lips much of the time of late: "You know, Peter!

You know, Peter!

We know somepin' we won't tell!"

Peter nodded, beaming on her.

"Just listen to that boy, Peter, he must be perfectly possessed!"

said Nancy.

"He didn't ever sound so glad before!"

cried the child eagerly.

Mickey came up the walk radiant.

He divided a smile between Mrs. Harding and Peter, and bowed low before Peaches as he laid a package at her feet.

Then he struck an attitude of exaggerated obeisance and recited: "_Days like this I'm tickled silly, When I see my August Lily.

No other fellow, dude or gawk, Owns a flower that can laugh and talk.

_" Peaches immediately laughed; so did all of them.

"Peter," asked Mickey, "were you ever so glad that you thought you would bust wide open?"

"I was," said Peter; "I am this minute."

"Would you mind specifying circumstances?"

"Not a bit," said Peter.

"First time was when Ma said she'd marry me, and I got my betrothal kiss; second, was the day she said she'd forgive my years of selfish dunderheadedness, and start over.

Now you, Mickey, what's yours?"