The applicant for insurance was nervous and ill at ease, but that alone was not sufficient to make Dave Murray suspicious. A man taking out his first policy is very often nervous—he dreads the physical examination in many instances. He may think he is all right, but he fears the possibility of some serious latent trouble. If there is anything radically and incurably wrong with the average man, he prefers not to know it. He may not say so, but he does. He goes before the medical examiner with the fear that he may learn something disagreeable.
“I’m fairly contented now,” he says to himself, if he happens to be practical enough to put his thoughts into words, “but life will be a haunting hell to me if I learn that I am not a good risk. That will mean at least the probability of an early death. It will not change conditions, but it will seem to bring death nearer.”
These thoughts do not come to the very young man, but they do come to the man who has passed, or is passing, the optimism of youth. In the words of Dave Murray, “One of the great annoyances of the life insurance business is that the very young man is too well and strong to want to be insured, and the man of middle age is afraid of learning that he is not as well and strong as he thinks he is. We have to fight optimism first and cowardice later. Theoretically, the ‘risk’ ought to be caught young, but, practically, it is easier to catch him when he has begun to appreciate the responsibilities of life. The optimism is more difficult to overcome than the cowardice.”
Nevertheless, the man who has neglected to take out insurance when he could get the best rate is likely to be nervous when he applies for it later, however hard he may try to conceal the fact. And Elmer Harkness was nervous. He was a year short of forty, apparently in the best physical condition, but he was unusually nervous. He hesitated over his answers to the most ordinary questions, he corrected himself once or twice, and he betrayed a strong desire to get through with the ordeal in the quickest possible time. When, at last, he was able to leave, the physician having completed his examination, he gave a very audible sigh of relief.
“There’s something about this I don’t like,” commented Murray a little later.
“That’s the trouble,” returned Murray. “I can’t say exactly what it is, but I have a feeling that something is wrong. We’ve had nervous men here before. Remember the fellow who was brought up by his wife and who would have ducked and run if he could have got the chance? He was nervous enough, but not in the same way. He was afraid he would find he was going to die next week, but this fellow was shifty. How does he stand physically, doctor?”
“Fine,” answered the doctor. “You couldn’t ask a better risk.”
“Well, he doesn’t get the policy until I’ve made a pretty thorough investigation, in addition to the usual investigation from headquarters,” announced Murray.
It took a good deal really to disturb Murray, but this case disturbed him before he got through with it. His first discovery was that Elmer Harkness had been refused insurance by another company some years previous. This information came from the home office, which had secured it through the “clearing-house.”