Polly's Business Venture

by Lillian Elizabeth Roy

But this advice cooled their anger, and the moment Mr. Dalken turned to go back to his apartment both men laughed at the situation. Tom offered his hand and Baxter shook it. Then each apologised to the other, and in a few minutes they started for the door of the apartment.

But the door was locked, and, in front of it on the mat, were two small heaps: one was composed of Tom’s coat and hat, with a patty and sandwich on a wooden plate, on top of it. The other small heap was Jack’s dress-cape, with his silk hat topping it, and in the hat, were his gloves and the plate with refreshments. His cane hung on the door-knob.

All the bell-ringing Tom indulged in, thereafter, failed to bring any answer. So the two young men, highly amused by their host’s farewell act, ate the scanty refreshments handed out, and then left the two wooden plates in front of the door, with a note on each. The pencilled scrawls said: “Two hungry beggars thank the rich man who threw them the crumbs from his table.”

After they had gone down to the ground floor, Jack said: “I’ll try to get Dalken on the telephone and ask him to send us down enough company to keep us from going to sleep in the reception room.”

Tom laughed and stood eagerly waiting to hear the reply. But the operator smiled and reported: “Mr. Dalken called down a few minutes ago, and said that he was not at home to anyone—not even to friends—until tomorrow morning.”

So the two chagrined young men left, and whatever they did during the next few hours, no one ever knew, but from that evening both forgot their rivalry and became fast friends. Jack suddenly decided to go West and finish his engineering studies in the mountains about Pebbly Pit. And Tom decided to make one last stand for Polly, and should she still refuse him on the basis that she must finish a business experience first, then he would knuckle down to hard work and forget all about her, forever.

It was easier for Jack to carry out his purpose than for Tom to leave New York and forget Polly. But Jack managed to do as he had outlined, and before Christmas Day he had said good-by and was on his way to Denver.

Tom spent so much time and preparation before the mirror in his room, perfecting himself in the art of proposing to Polly, in such a way that she would be impressed, that he became quite self-conscious of his pose and words. On Christmas Day, he planned to coax her away by herself, and then fall upon his knees and tell his story. He had a magnificent solitaire in his pocket, waiting to be displayed at the right moment.

No one saw Tom all that Christmas morning, although his friends called on the telephone, both at his home and at the hotel. He did not reply to any calls. But late in the afternoon he sauntered forth from his room, looking more like a silly dandy than a big sensible young man who was one of the best engineers in the West.

He got in a taxi and gave directions. In front of Mr. Fabian’s house, he paid the driver and went up the steps. After he had rung the bell, he felt in his pocket to make sure the ring-box was there. This was about the twentieth time he had assured himself.