“No, of course you didn’t,” laughed Schwarmer. “You were on the wrong scent, no doubt. After the beautiful, so to speak. Well, I reckon nobody ever accused Chicago of being beautiful, really and truly beautiful; but even the leopard has its spots, and there are some spots around and about the sides and tail end of the city that are just beautiful enough.”
“Yes, it is beautiful along the margin of the lake, where the city is not—or the great bulk of it—but they are making huge preparations to spoil that. When its Centennial comes they will turn its liquid beauty into a bed of hissing, fiery serpents a mile long!”
“Yes, and Pang’s bill is to be a mile long, rest assured it is,” laughed Schwarmer. “He’s sharp enough for them. He isn’t there for fun or in search of the beautiful. He’s there for business and he’s got it, Johnny Bull fashion, by the horns—on the lake front and on the house-tops, most assuredly he has. No, Fons, business isn’t a beauty of itself, you know, or will know when you get into the whirl of it; and Chicago is the wildest kind of a whirlpool for business.”
“But I’m not there by a long shot,” said Bombs, with a sigh of relief, “and Pang is not there, at least I couldn’t find him.”
“But you’ve found us and we are glad to see you, most assuredly we are; and really there isn’t much time to spare if you are going to get your new piece in tip-top order. It won’t do to have any failure this time, most assuredly it won’t.”
“I can’t do much until the Pyro-men come; but I’m glad to be here again and out of that infernal business hole,” said Bombs, frankly. “I found Pang’s pyro-men so immersed, so perfectly pickled in the big scheme of bombarding Fort Dearborn, reburning the city and burning Mr. Flamingdon (or whatever his name is) that I couldn’t find out about the new colors—the scientific things of the trade. It’s all trade and no science with them now. They intend to cover everything in their line. They are scheming to get hold of ‘The Chicago Amusement Association,’ I suspect.”
“What’s that, Fons?”
“Can’t describe it full length,” laughed Bombs, “but one section of it is directing attention to the small boys’ amusement on the Fourth of July. Conducted by himself they have discovered that it is not only dangerous but altogether insane, so they are seriously at work trying to construct a sane Fourth, which is to wind up with fireworks of such a splendid order as to indemnify the small boy for not being allowed to have a hand in letting them off. Of course this is where Pang will plot to come in with a ten or twenty thousand dollar piece.”
“Truly, this Fourth of July reform business is growing to be pretty wide, to reach as far as Chicago. They’ve got a new name tacked onto it though. ‘Sane Fourth!’ Pretty good. You know I told you the other day you hadn’t better go into Fourth of July trimmings too deep—most assuredly I did, Fons.”
“I don’t intend to, Mr. Schwarmer. Historical pieces are my ambition; but that reminds me, I want to ask you something.”