Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1940-09-29
THIS WEEK MAGAZINE

on back to the office and tell J. L. the
truth. He had made forty calls. and
not been allowed to finish a single
talk. There was no point in staying
on - except that the company had
told him to work through Thursday.
He sat down on a waiting room
bench, stretched out his tired feet and
rested his hands on his lap. Probably
they would give his job to Walter. 1t
would be strange if Walter married
Caroline. If - Suddenly MIR. Mudgett
sat bolt upright. So that was the
reason Walter had been so friendly,
asked SO many questions about his
work, the letters he wrote, what he
told the men he interviewed. Walter
had known all the time that his job
was going to be open. -.
BY Thursday afternoon Mr..
Mudgett had made more than one
hundred calls and he still did not have
SO much as a one-year billed order to
show for his efforts. His talk was get
ting steadily worse. In the beginning.
at least it had possessed quality of
desperation; now it was a fiat, hope
less monotone. 1t was canned and it
sounded that way. Well, there wasn't
any danger that they'd send him out
again - not after this. If only he
could have saved something; but with
Caroline's education and all - If they
could have given him another ten
years he would have been all set. But
now? A clerk, forty-four years old, out
of work. One OF thousands.
he WALKED almost mile from the
center of town to Rutville's one big
concern, Marsh & Son, typewriter
manufacturers. He had saved this
until the last, hoping he would i'm
prove and make a killing among their
big Office staff. But as he climbed the
steps and entered the outer Office he
didn't feel courageous enough to kill
sparrow. 1t was full of statesmen. He
glanced at them and swallowed. They
all loOked SO casual, so sure of them
selves. The switchboard girl plugged
in cord and said. ALREADY. Mr..
Marsh. Chicago on the wire" Then
she glanced up at Mr.. Mudgett.
He leaned forward. Good after
noon. l want to see MIR. Marsh
Senior or Junior?''
MIR. Mudgett hesitated. There was
something rather ominous about the
word Senior. He said, Junior"
The girl eyed him, the suggestion of
a smile twitching at the corners of her
mouth. Are you sure you want to see
MIR. Marsh. Jr.T
MIR. Mudgett nodded. He wasn't
sure but he didn't know how to inform
her of the fact.
The girl munched her gum for a
couple of seconds, then asked, What
did you want to see him about?"
Mr. Mudgett, acutely conscious of
the statesmen behind him, leaned for
ward and said in a barely audible
whisper, I'm with the Croton Pub
fishing Company. They asked me to
call on him in relation to survey
which we are conducting among the
leading executives in large manufac-
turing plants throughout the East"
! HIS was the first piece of real SELL
ing - and the last - ever accom-
plished by Mr.. Mudgett. The girl,
straining to catch what he was say
ing, did not think to press him further
She picked up her phone and called
Mr.. Marsh, Jr's, Office and told the
secretary that there was someone out
here from the Croton something Com
pany about something or other that
was being done in the East. No, she
did not know what it was about, some
sort of survey or something.
Yes, that was right, he had specif-
cally asked for Mr.. Marsh, Jr., not
Senior. Okay! She looked up again.
go through the gate, please. It's the