Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford: A Cheerful Account of the Rise and Fall of an American Business BuccaneerChester, George Randolph
General
Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford: A Cheerful Account of the Rise and Fall of an American Business Buccaneer
Chester, George Randolph
Businessmen -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
It was, in fact, high time for him to return to business, for he could
get no wire from Maylie about the forced sale; and this was the
strategic point for which he had been planning since the day he met Carl
Klug. Three telegrams drew no response, and there was no one else to
whom he dared wire in the present condition of affairs. Leaving his wife
where she was for the present, he took the first train for the West and,
arriving on the day before the sale, drove directly from the train to
Carl Klug's, where he found a mournful assembly.
"That's him!" exclaimed Jens Jensen, as he came into the shop. "I always
said he was a skinner."
Klug looked at him with dull eyes. Otto Schmitt arose to his
threatening, rawboned height. Henry Vogel put his hand on Otto's arm.
"Wait a minute," he cautioned. "You don't know anything for sure about
things."
"What's the matter?" Wallingford asked, stopped in the midst of his
intended cordial greeting by the hostile air of the gathering.
"You done it a-purpose," charged Jens, shaking his skinny fist. "You got
from us that note, and now it shuts us up in business. You say you back
the company for all you're worth. Maybe you ain't worth anything. If you
ain't you're a liar. If you are worth something you don't back us up.
Then you're a liar again, so that makes you a skinner!"
"Gentlemen," said Wallingford sternly, "I am surprised. The question of
whether I have or have not money is not worth arguing just now. The
point is this: if any one of you had money would you be willing to
invest it against the millions of the United Sales Recording Machine
Company of New Jersey? Would you, Mr. Jensen?"
"I don't know," said Jens sullenly. "I think you're a skinner."
Wallingford shrugged his shoulders.
"Would you, Mr. Schmitt?"
"No," said Otto, and unclenched his huge fists.
"Would you, Vogel?"
Vogel was positive about it, too. It would be throwing good money after
bad.
"I ask Mr. Klug. Would you, Carl?"
"Yes," sturdily asserted Carl, his mustache bristling, his face puffing
red. "Every cent. It is a good patent. It is a good machine. There's
money in it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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