“So he teks us th’ough a kind of a long shed. An’ he ’scorts us ’crost a lil’ narrow plank. An’ he leads us th’ough a kind of a lil’ round iron do’. “An’ w’en we wuz all inside, de w’ite man slammed de iron do’—AN’ DE WAREHOUSE SAILED AWAY!” § 35 A Scotchman’s Conscience The purchasing agent of a big jobbing concern was a Scotchman. He gave an extensive order—to a salesman for a supply house. Although he had obtained the business in open competition, the salesman felt gratitude at being favored and sought a way to show it. He knew he dare not offer the Scot a commission; likewise a gift of money, he figured, would be regarded as an insult. The Scot, he noticed, constantly smoked cigars. So the salesman slipped out to a cigar store and bought a box containing fifty of the finest Havanas the tobacconist carried in stock. The price for the fifty was fifteen dollars. He brought the box back and asked the purchasing agent to accept it with his compliments. The latter explained that it was against the policy of his house for its buyers to accept presents of any sort from those with whom the concern did business. He was sorry, he said, but he could not take the cigars as a present, even though he felt sure his young friend had tendered them with the best of intentions and in absolute good faith. The salesman had another idea: “Well,” he said, “I hate to throw these cigars away. They are of no use to me—I smoke only cigarettes. I wonder if you would buy them from me?—there’s no harm in that, I’m sure.” “What would you be asking for them, laddy?” inquired the prudent Scot. “I’ll sell the whole fifty to you for a nickel,” stated the salesman. The purchasing agent lifted one of the cigars from the top row, smelled it, rolled it in his fingers and eyed it closely. “Very well,” he said, “at that price I’ll take four boxes.” § 36 Establishing an Identity It was plain the stranger was suffering from an excess of alcoholic stimulant. He wavered and lurched and wabbled as he ran to catch the trolley car; he slipped and almost fell as he swung aboard; he trampled on the toes of those who rode upon the rear platform and at length when he fell into a seat he struck with considerable violence a somewhat testy gentleman alongside him. The latter resented being jostled. Probably he had scruples against the use of intoxicants in any form and at any time. He fixed a stern and condemning eye upon the new passenger and of him demanded to know why he did not exercise a little more care when entering a public vehicle. The person thus reproved, focused his uncertain vision upon the face of the other. “Dye shee me when I gotta board thish car?” he asked. “I did.” “Dye ever shee me before in your who’ life?” “No.” “Ever hear an’body call my name?” “No.” “Ever hear an’body speak ’bout me?” “Certainly not.” “Then how the hell did you know it was me?” § 37 An Earnest Cry for Help