Читать книгу The Counterfeit Mystery - Norvin Pallas - Страница 6

CHAPTER 3

HUMAN NATURE

When they were alone, Ted sat down in the chair near Mr. Dobson’s desk. As he had surmised, the editor had indeed wanted to talk to him, but took time to light up his pipe before proceeding to business.

“Ted, Mr. Woodring is going to need someone in his office, someone to answer the phone and handle inquiries while he’s out—and he expects to be on the road a good deal. I told him I’d let him know if I could find anyone, but I had you in mind. He mentioned something about it when I spoke to him on the phone early this morning, which was the reason for my call to you. It wouldn’t be hard work, and you might even find it dull, since you’d be sitting around alone most of the time. I certainly don’t want to interfere with any plans you may have for yourself, but it would probably be for only a few weeks, and the job is yours if you want it.”

Ted hesitated. He didn’t mind taking the job, even though it did seem a little dull, for it would give him something profitable to do during the next few weeks. But first he had to be sure it really was a useful job, not just some made-up work Mr. Dobson had devised out of a feeling of obligation to him.

“Are you sure he really needs somebody?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, he honestly does, and if you don’t take it I’ll try to get someone else for him. I may as well make it clear to you that if you start the job, it will be the newspaper and not Mr. Woodring who is paying your salary. This will be part of the help I promised him, in case he’s successful in interesting merchants in his plan. Of course our interest is clear. Anything that helps our merchants helps our advertising. That’s being a little crass about it, since my principal desire is to do something which I feel is good for the whole town, but it would be hypocritical to deny that we have a self-interest in the plan, too.”

“I guess I’ll take the job, then, if he really wants me,” Ted answered, but couldn’t avoid a feeling of disappointment. When Mr. Dobson had phoned him that morning, Ted had been led to hope that something big and exciting was in the wind. Well, life wasn’t always like that. A thing could be big and important, but not very exciting.

Mr. Dobson swung about in his swivel chair until he was directly facing Ted. “I’ve one little point to make, Ted, and I certainly hope you won’t misunderstand me. I first had an inquiry from the Blue Harvest people a few weeks ago. Naturally, I checked their references, and I find that while they are a new company, the investors behind the firm are persons of integrity. I then replied, expressing interest, with the result that Mr. Woodring was sent out to discuss the matter. Now I’ve nothing against new companies, but at the same time they often make mistakes due to their inexperience. They may have a slipshod sort of organization, they may make promises that they later find themselves unable to keep.

“I’m sure you’ll understand that I’m not asking you to spy on Mr. Woodring. But he knows that you’re working for the newspaper, and that you will be reporting back to me from time to time. He’s presented a plan which I’ve accepted in good faith, and so I don’t think it’s wrong to suggest that he preserve good faith with me. If anything should come up—anything at all—that suggests his plan of operation isn’t exactly the way he presented it to me, then I expect you to have no hesitancy in telling me about it.”

This was growing a little queer, Ted thought. If Mr. Dobson had any doubts about the scheme, why did he let the newspaper get tied up with it? But maybe this was nothing more than his natural caution in dealing with a new company and with people who were strangers to him. After all, he had spent decades building up the newspaper’s reputation in the community and couldn’t afford to let anything happen to that reputation.

“Do you know anything about Mr. Woodring?” Ted inquired. “He seemed like a good sort to me, and it looks like he knows his onions. He was ready with an answer for anything we could say.”

Once more the editor hesitated. “Yes, Ted, I’m inclined to agree with you. But I must admit there was one small thing that came up while I was talking with him earlier. I don’t recall just how it came about, but he said he’d worked for the firm of Beacon, Jones and Western in Chicago, about ten years ago. Of course he had no way of knowing that I know anything about the company, but it happens that I do. And the fact is that there wasn’t any firm called Beacon, Jones and Western ten years ago. Beacon and Jones only merged with Western about five years ago.”

Ted considered, but was obliged to conclude that this wasn’t a very serious breech. “If he worked for Beacon and Jones ten years ago, it would be only natural to give the present name of the company instead of the old name, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, perhaps. Oh, yes, certainly it would. However, this does give me a chance to check up on Mr. Woodring. I know someone at Beacon, Jones and Western who has been with them for many years and would be in a position to consult the personnel records just to make sure Mr. Woodring really was employed there at that time. The whole thing would be on a strictly confidential basis, and if it turns out that everything is just as Mr. Woodring said, then there’s no harm done.”

Once again Ted thought Mr. Dobson was being excessively cautious. But he reflected there was certainly nothing wrong in what the editor was proposing. When someone presents a business proposition which demands a high degree of confidence, he can expect that some inquiries will be made about his background.

“I’ll call Mr. Woodring, then,” said Ted, rising. “Did he leave a number with you?”

“He’s staying at the hotel. You should be able to reach him there.”

Since Forestdale boasted only one hotel, Ted had no trouble putting through the call shortly after he had had his lunch at home. Mr. Woodring was out at the time, but Ted left his number with the desk clerk and asked Mr. Woodring to call him back.

Shortly afterward Nelson phoned, eager to hear what Mr. Dobson had had to propose. When Ted explained briefly about the Blue Harvest stamps, Nelson groaned.

“Is that all? I thought he was all ready to come up with some nice, juicy political scandal, or at least something controversial that’d have everybody taking sides and arguing. I thought there’d be something to stir up this dead town, and now it’s only some moldy old stamps. Holy cow!”

Ted could imagine Nelson’s expression, and he laughed.

“What’s the matter?” Nelson demanded. “Did I say something funny?”

“Not intentionally. But it happens that these stamps do have a picture of a cow on them.”

“That does it,” said Nelson with a deep sigh. “Well, I suppose it’ll work out all right. Women always fall for these phony schemes.”

“What do you mean, phony?” Ted retorted. “Mr. Dobson wouldn’t be mixed up in anything crooked.”

“I didn’t say it was crooked,” Nelson explained. “I just said it was phony. Look, I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was five years old, but some people still think they can get something for nothing. It’s human nature, I suppose.”

“Well, they do have their budgets to watch out for,” Ted returned. “And as Mr. Woodring explained it, the plan helps the stores sell more efficiently and the saving is passed on to the buyers.”

“Sure, the old, old game, something for nothing. Efficient? That’s only because they don’t count all the extra work. Buyers have to sort out their stamps and paste them in their books and get them redeemed, but they don’t get paid for any of that. Well, you’ll never catch me fooling around with those things.”

Ted laughed. “Why do we have to worry about it? Merchants are pretty shrewd, and if the stamps help business they’ll keep on with them. Otherwise they’ll drop them. It’s a problem that’ll solve itself.”

“O.K.,” Nelson agreed disinterestedly. “What’s for tomorrow, Ted? How about a drive out to the lake and—”

“Nothing doing, boy. I’ve got a job now. Mr. Woodring needs some office help for a couple of weeks, and I’m elected.”

“Well, there goes the rest of our summer up in smoke. How’d you make out with Nancy?”

“All right, I guess. I’ll be reporting to Mr. Dobson off and on, so I suppose I’ll be seeing more of her.”

“Lucky dog. Now I know why you wanted to work.” And Nelson hung up.

They hadn’t talked very long, and Ted hoped Mr. Woodring hadn’t called and found the line busy. But it soon appeared that he hadn’t, as the hours dragged on and no call came. If Ted were going to work tomorrow, there were several little matters he wanted to take care of, but he felt bound to the telephone. He picked up a book and tried to read, but his mind was on other things as he found himself half-listening for the phone.

It was late afternoon when the call came. Mr. Woodring was brisk and businesslike.

“Ted? I got your message. I’m sorry that I was out, and only got back a few minutes ago.”

Although he must have known why Ted called, he took nothing for granted, and waited for Ted to state his business.

“Mr. Dobson tells me you’re in need of office help for a few weeks, and I thought maybe I could fill the bill. I’m looking for something to do, until I leave town in about three weeks. Mr. Dobson said you probably wouldn’t need me for longer than that, anyway.”

“That would suit me just fine, Ted. I managed to rent that office you spoke of, and the phone will be in early in the morning. How soon can you report for work?”

“Tomorrow morning would be all right with me.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you at nine o’clock, then. Good-by.” And the conversation ended as abruptly as it had begun.

Ted decided he would have time for a quick trip downtown before supper, and left almost at once. He had library books to return, and a few purchases to make, and he stopped in front of the theater just to see what would be playing during the next week. There was a horror picture coming, and he didn’t feel that would do, for he doubted that Nancy would care for that kind of picture. Suddenly he wondered what had made him think of Nancy just then.

When he arrived home he told his mother about his new job and asked her for her opinion of the trading stamps. She wasn’t likely to be carried away by fads or something-for-nothing schemes.

“It sounds like a good idea to me, Ted,” she decided. “Women seem to like that sort of thing. It’s sort of like a saving plan. You want something that you really can’t afford, so you save up until you can afford it.”

If his mother liked it, Ted decided that most of the other women would, too. In a way he was glad, even though he couldn’t work up a whole lot of enthusiasm for the plan himself. He wouldn’t have wanted to see Mr. Dobson betting on a dead horse.

Later that evening the telephone rang again.

“It’s for you, Ted,” his mother called to him. “Nancy Lindell.”

Ted was momentarily pleased, but then surprised and puzzled. Why was Nancy calling him? It wasn’t likely she would call a boy she just met that day, unless it was about something pretty important.

“Hello, Nancy?” he answered.

“Ted, I’ve got to know something right away.” Her voice sounded troubled.

“Go ahead, Nancy,” he urged her, as she paused.

“Ted, did I take your job away from you?”

“Why, no, Nancy,” he said in surprise. “What makes you think you did?”

She seemed relieved, although not fully convinced. “Well, Ted, you used to come into the newspaper office almost every day, didn’t you? And now I’ve just heard from Aunt Marian that you’re going to start working for Mr. Woodring. I did take your place, didn’t I?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t, Nancy. You mustn’t think that. Of course I came in every day while they were shorthanded, but that’s all over now.”

“But if I weren’t here, you’d still be coming in, wouldn’t you?” she persisted.

Ted remembered his long months of feuding with Carl Allison but couldn’t bring himself to explain. “No, Nancy, I honestly don’t think so. Besides, you’re not even doing the kind of work I was doing. I had very little to do with the filing or the correspondence. I don’t even know shorthand.”

“Well, I hope you’re not just saying that to be polite, Ted, because I’d feel awfully bad if I thought I really was interfering. It isn’t that I have to work, but I am glad of the chance to get some practical experience, and Aunt Marian seems to like to have me around. However, I’d quit in a minute if I thought it was hurting you.”

“Not at all, Nancy, not at all,” he said quickly. “I think I’m going to like my new job. It’ll be a change, and even if I don’t like it, it’s only for a few weeks anyway.” The truth was that he was still working for the newspaper, over at Mr. Woodring’s place, but he decided not to mention that. If Mr. Dobson wanted it known, he could tell her.

“I hope you do, Ted. It does help to get around into different places, doesn’t it? I feel I’ve learned a whole lot in just the few days I’ve been at the newspaper.”

Ted thought quickly about that movie again. It was the only movie in town, and he didn’t have a car to take her to North Ridge. He couldn’t ask a girl like Nancy to go to a horror movie like that—or could he?

“Nancy, I was going to ask you to go to the movies Saturday night, but it’s about one of those monsters from outer space—”

“Why, Ted, that’s just what I love! I always like to see if I can get scared, but most of them are too tame.”

Ted brightened. “Then would you—could we—”

“Sure, Ted. Saturday night. Aunt Marian’s waiting for me, so I’d better hang up. Good-by now.”

Reluctantly Ted replaced the receiver.