A Fool and His Money

by George Barr McCutcheon

"If you please, sir!" cut in the Count, with the austerity that makes the continental nobleman what he is.

"If you require my services, you will find me in the—"

"Not in the hall, I trust," said his client in a most insulting way.

Schymansky left the room without so much as a glance at me. He struck me as a man who knew his place better than any menial I've ever seen. I particularly noticed that not even his ears were red.

"Rather rough way to handle a lawyer, it strikes me," said I. "Isn't he any good?"

"He is as good as the best of them," said the Count, lighting his fourth or fifth cigarette. "I have no patience with the way they muddle matters by always talking law, law, law! If it were left to me, I should dismiss the whole lot of them and depend entirely upon my common-sense. If it hadn't been for the lawyers, I am convinced that all this trouble could have been avoided, or at least amicably adjusted out of court. But I am saddled with half a dozen of them, simply because two or three banks and as many private interests are inclined to be officious. They claim that my interests are theirs, but I doubt it, by Jove, I do. They're a blood-sucking lot, these bankers. But I sha'n't bore you with trivialities. Now here is the situation in a word. It is quite impossible for me to prosecute the search for my child without financial assistance from outside sources. My funds are practically exhausted and the banks refuse to extend my credit. You have publicly declared yourself to be my friend and well-wisher. I have asked you to come here to-night, Mr. Smart, to put you to the real test, so to I speak. I want one hundred thousand dollars for six months."

While I was prepared in a sense for the request, the brazenness with which he put it up to me took my breath away. I am afraid that the degage manner in which he paid compliment to my affluence was too much for me. I blinked my eyes rapidly for a second or two and then allowed them to settle into a stare of perplexity.

"Really, Mr. Pless," I mumbled in direct contrast to his sangfroid, "you—you surprise me."

He laughed quietly, almost reassuringly, as he leaned forward in his chair the better to study my face. "I hope you do not think that I expect you to produce so much ready money to-night, Mr. Smart. Oh, no! Any time within the next few days will be satisfactory. Take your time, sir. I appreciate that it requires time to arrange for the—"

I held up my hand with a rather lofty air. "Was it one hundred and fifty thousand that you mentioned, or—"