“Crocker hasn’t started on us yet,” he said.
Russell who had toiled hard and whole-heartedly for the last three days at the task of teaching football to the first team wanted very much to see to-day’s game. Nevertheless he would not have asked Stick to take his place in the store, since it had become understood that on Saturday afternoons Stick was a gentleman of leisure. But it was Stick who proposed it. He didn’t care much about football, anyway, he observed, and if Rus wanted to see the game he, Stick, didn’t mind looking after business. So Russell thanked him and hurried off at three o’clock in an effort to reach the field for the kick-off.
An hour later, the Mountain having failed to come to Mohammed, Mohammed put on his black felt hat, left his store and walked a few doors southward. Secretly he was incensed, outwardly he was unperturbed and even genial. His geniality increased when he found the junior partner instead of the senior presiding behind the counter in the Sign of the Football. He introduced himself to Stick, and Stick replied warily that he was glad to meet him, not being anything of the sort.
Mr. Crocker found the junior partner quite a different proposition from Russell. Stick was uneasy and showed it. There was none of Russell’s confident defiance about him. Mr. Crocker leaned against the counter and talked about weather, trade, the Academy and again trade. He impressed Stick vastly, which was just what he intended to do. Stick lost some of his discretion and it wasn’t long before the caller was in possession of the knowledge that Stick regretted his financial connection with the Sign of the Football, although Stick didn’t say so in so many words. Mr. Crocker gave it as his frank and disinterested opinion that there had been a great mistake made when the Sign of the Football had been opened for business. He quoted figures to Stick, figures showing that it had never paid Mr. Crocker to carry athletic goods and never could pay him. There was not, he confided, sufficient trade in the town. Only the fact that those who came to purchase athletic goods returned for hardware or related articles sold by Mr. Crocker induced him to continue in the sporting goods business. That sounded reasonable and Stick nodded.
Mr. Crocker suggested that being a junior partner wasn’t very satisfactory, anyhow, since you didn’t have an equal voice in the conduct of business, and again Stick nodded. Mr. Crocker was fast proving himself a man of discernment and wisdom. It is an odd fact that your extremely suspicious person—and that Stick Patterson surely was—can be readily fooled if the right intelligence undertakes the job. Look around and see if I’m not right. Stick reversed his opinion of Mr. Crocker in something under thirty minutes. He no longer thought him base and designing. On the contrary he saw now that Russell’s picture of the hardware merchant had been quite out of drawing and that Mr. Crocker was a kind-meaning, well-intentioned gentleman whose seeming interference in their affairs was actuated by honest and sympathetic motives. In short, Mr. Crocker saw from his long experience the fate awaiting the unfortunate venture of the Sign of the Football and, having the Golden Rule ever in mind, was doing what he could to avert it. Having accepted that estimate of the caller and his errand, Stick became confidential.
Ten minutes later Mr. Crocker, patting his soft hat more firmly on his head, remarked: “Well, if your partner can’t be made to see the wise thing there’s nothing I can say or do, Mr. Patterson.” He smiled kindly and sorrowfully as he moved toward the door.
“I suppose not,” assented Stick gloomily. “Gee, if I could get out of it—”
“Yes, you might do that,” said Mr. Crocker carelessly.
“Eh?” exclaimed Stick. “How could I?”