Skinner's Dress Suit

"Well?"

"Understand, I believe in Skinner absolutely – but – "

"Even your judgment is not infallible, you mean?"

"Exactly."

"So do I believe in him," Perkins said.

"I couldn't offend him for the world," McLaughlin went on. "He's as sensitive as a cat's tail. I would n't even dare to go into that cage of his." McLaughlin paused, "Yet we've got to do something. We can't wait till summer when he goes on his vacation. All kinds of things might happen before then. Time and Wall Street don't wait for anybody – except magnates!"

"You mean, have an expert accountant go over his books?" said Perkins.

"Certainly, that's what I mean – that's what you mean – that's what's been in both our minds from the time he began to travel with that Pullman crowd."

"It ought to be done at once," said Perkins. "If things are not regular – well, we must protect ourselves. I'm puzzled how to get rid of him while we're doing it. It's a delicate business," Perkins urged.

"I've got that all figured out, Perk." McLaughlin paused to register the comedy line that was to follow. "I'm going to send Skinner to St. Paul – after Willard Jackson!"

The partners were silent for a few moments; then Perkins said, "You can't, Mac."

"Why not?"

"It's a joke!"

"Of course it's a joke! But it's a harmless joke. You and I are the only ones that are 'on.' Skinner won't suspect. We'll put it up to him in dead earnest."

"The worst Jackson can do is to insult him the way he did you," said Perkins.

"The old dog!" said McLaughlin. He paused. "We'll get Skinner out of his cage for a while. It'll cost us so much money – we'll add that on to the expert accountant's bill. Can you think of a better way, Perk?"

"Mac, you're a genius!"

McLaughlin pressed the button marked "cashier."

Perkins put out his hand. "Don't call him yet, Mac. Wait till I get through laughing."

McLaughlin turned as the "cage man" entered.

"Hello, Skinner. Sit down." He paused a moment to register his next words. "Skinner, Mr. Perkins and I want you to do something for us."

Skinner looked from one partner to the other. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Two years ago we lost the biggest customer we ever had," McLaughlin proceeded.

"I know. Willard Jackson – St. Paul."

"Lost him through the stupidity of Briggs," snapped McLaughlin.

Skinner nodded.

"We've been trying to get him back ever since, as you know. We sent our silver-tongued Browning out there. No good! Then Mr. Perkins went out. Then I went out. All this you know."

The "cage man" nodded.

McLaughlin paused. "Skinner, we want you to go out to St. Paul and get him back."

Skinner looked curiously from one partner to the other, but both seemed to be dead serious.

"But – I'm – I'm not a salesman," the "cage man" stammered.

"That's just it," said McLaughlin earnestly. "There must be something wrong with the policy or the method or the manners of our salesmen, and Mr. Perkins and I have thought about it till we're stale. We want to put a fresh mind on the job."

"Jackson's gone over to the Starr-Bacon folks. They do well by him. How am I going to pry him loose?" said Skinner.

"We'll do even better by him," said McLaughlin. "You know this business as well as I do, Skinner. I 'm darned if I don't think you know it better. You know how closely we can shave figures with our competitors, I don't care who they are. I 'm going to make you our minister plenipotentiary. Do as you please, only get Jackson. I don't care if you take a small loss. We can make it up later. But we want his business."

Skinner pondered a moment. "Really, Mr. McLaughlin, I don't know what to say. I'm very grateful to you for such confidence. I 'll do my best, sir."

"It'll take rare diplomacy, rare diplomacy, Skinner," McLaughlin warned.

"What kind of a man is Mr. Jackson?" Skinner asked presently. "I know him by his letters, but what kind of man is he to meet?"

"The worst curmudgeon west of Pittsburg," said McLaughlin. "He'll insult you, he'll abuse you, he might even threaten to assault you like he did me. But he's got a bank roll as big as Vesuvius – and you know what his business means to us. Take as much time as you like, spend as much money as you like, Skinner, – don't stint yourself, – but get Jackson!"

"Have you any suggestions?" said Skinner.

"Not one – and if I had, I would n't offer it. I want you to use your wits in your own way, unhampered, unencumbered. It's up to you."

"When do you want me to go?"

"Business is business – the sooner the quicker!"

Skinner thought a moment. "Let's see – to-morrow's Sunday. I'll start Monday morning, if that is satisfactory."

"Fine!" said McLaughlin, rising and shaking hands with his cashier.

Skinner walked to the door, paused, then came halfway back. "What kind of a woman is Mrs. Jackson, Mr. McLaughlin?"

"Well," said McLaughlin, staggered by the question, "she don't handsome much and she ain't very young, if that's what you mean."

Skinner blushed. "I didn't mean it that way."

"The only thing I've got against Mrs. Jackson is she's a social climber," Perkins broke in.

"The only thing I 've got against her," said McLaughlin, "is – she don't climb. She wants to, but she don't."

"Is there any particular reason why she does n't climb?" said Skinner.