The Columbus courier. [volume] (Columbus, Luna County, N.M.) 1911-1920, 1915-01-01

three years. or less, she'll have the
regulation uniform-full length seal
coat, bunch OF paradise, Hve-drop dia-
mond La valliere set in platinum, cleo
trio brougham. Abe has got a bust
moss head, take It from me. But he's
wise enough 10 know that business
isn't the roUgh.and-tumble game II
used to be. He realizes that he'll do
for the workrooms, but not for the
front shop. He knows that " he wants
to keep on growing he's got to have
what they call a steerer. Somebody
smooth, and polished, and polite, and
what the highbrows call suave. Do
you pronounce that with a long n. or
two dots Over7 Anyway, you get me.
You're all those things and consider
able few besides. He's wise 20 the
fact that a business mans got to have
poise these days. and balance. And
when II comes to polse and balance,
Mrs. McChesney, you make a Fair
banks scale look like a raft at sea-"
while ] don't want to seem to
hurry you" drawled Mrs. McChesney,
might suggest that you shorten the
overture and begin on the first act?"
We'll, you know how / feel about
your business genius"
YES, ! know" enigmatically.
Ed Meyers grinned. Cant forget
those two little business misunder-
standings We had. can your"
business understandings correct
ed Emma McChesney.
Call en- anything your little heart
dictates, but listen. Fromkin knows
all about you. Knows you've got a
million friends In the trade. that you
know just what his proposition is. but
I'll bet he'll give you half interest in
the livest, come-upest little skirt fac
tory in the country, just for a few
thousands capital, maybe, and your
business head at the executive end,
Now Just let that sink in before you
speak"
And why" inquired Emma Nc.
Chesney, don't you grab this match
less business opportunity y%ourself?"
Because. fair lady. Fromkin
wouldn't let me get in with a crowbar.
He'll never be able 70 pronounce his
Is right, and when he's dressed up no
looks like a bus boy at Mouquin's,
but he can see a blum farther than l
a throw one-and that's somewhere
beyond the horizon, as you1n admit.
Talk II over with us after dinner
them"
Emma McChesney was regarding
the plump. pink, eager face before her
with keen, level, searching eyes.
Yes" she said slowly, Il will"
Cafe? Wen have a bottle"
mo"
"Oh! Er-parlor?'
Mrs. McChesney smiled. 81 won't
ask you to make yourself that misera-
Bile. You can't smoke in the parlor.
Wen ind a quiet corner in the writ
ing room, where you men a light
up. | don't want TO take advantage OF
you"
Down in the writing room at eight
they formed a strange little group.
Ed Meyers. flushed and eager, his pink
face glowing like a peony. talking,
arguing, smoking, reasoning, coaxing,
with the spur OF a fat commission to
urge him on; Abel Fromkin, with his
peculiarly pallid skin made paler in
contrast to the purplish-hlack line
where the razor had passed. shcving
no hint Of excitement except in the
restless ntt,e black eyes and in the
work-scarred hands that rolled clga-
rette after cigarette, each glowing for
one brici instant, only to die down
90 q blcckened ash the next: Emma
McChesney, half fascinated, half dis
trustful, listening In spite of herself,
and trying to sim a small inner voice
voice that had never advised her
i'll.
You know the ups and downs TO
this game Ed Meyers was saying.
When | met you there I'm the elevator
you looked like you'd lost your last
customer, You get pretty Disguised
with II all, at times, like the rest Of
u.s."
AT that minute" replied Emma Nc
Chesney, Il was so disguised that II
some one had called me up on the
phone and said, Hullo, Mrs. McChes.
ney! VIII you marry me?' I'd have
said: Yes. Who is this7'"
There! That's Just It. I don't
want to be impolite, or anything like
that, Mrs. McChesney, but you're no
kid. Not that you look your age-not
by ten years. But l happen L know
you're lettering somewhere between
thirty-six and the next top. Amt that
right?"
rs that a argument to put TO a
lady2' demonstrated Abel Fromkln.
Fat Ed Meyers waved the Interrupt
ton away with a gesture OF his
strangely slim hands.
This amt an argument. It's facts.
Another ten years on the road, and
wherell you be? In the discard. A
man Of forty-six can keep step with
the youngsters, even II It does make
him pun a bit. But a woman OF forty