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
Another restless night and another dreary day, and then, just as he had
begun to sincerely pity himself as a forlorn castaway upon the barrenest
shore of all living things, there came visitors for him, and the turnkey
with much deference threw open his cell and led him out to the visitor's
cage. His wife! Well, he had expected her, and he had expected, too,
since this great new tenderness had come upon her, to find her eyes
suffused with bravely suppressed tears as they now were; but he had
never expected to see again the man who was with her. E. B. Lott! the
man to whom he had once sold rights of way to a traction line which he
had never intended to build! one of his most profitable victims!
"So they got you at last, did they, Wallingford?" said Lott briskly, and
shook hands with him, positive pleasure in the meeting beaming from his
grizzled countenance. "I expected they would. A nice little game you
played on me up in Battlesburg, wasn't it? Well, my boy, it was worth
the money. You really had a valuable right of way, with valuable
franchises and concessions, and the Lewisville, Battlesburg and Elliston
Traction Line is doing a ripping business; so I'll forgive you,
especially since you're not an individual criminal at all. You're only
the logical development of the American tendency to 'get there' no
matter how. It is the national weakness, the national menace, and you're
only an exaggerated molecule of it. You think that so long as you stay
inside the _law_ you're all right, even morally; but a man who
habitually shaves so close to the narrow edge is going to slip off some
time. Now you've had your dose and I shouldn't wonder but it _might_
make a man of you. Your fine little wife here, who hunted me up the
minute she found out your real predicament, swears that it will, but I'm
not sure. You're too valuable, though, to coop up in a penitentiary, and
I'm going to buy you off. I can use you. I've been in the traction
business ever since the first trolley touched a wire, and I never yet
have seen a man who could go out and get a right of way for nothing, as
you did, nor get it in so short a space of time, even for money. We
expect to open up two thousand miles of lines this coming year and I'm
going to put you on the job. I can't fix it to make you such quick
riches as you can rake in on crooked deals, but I'll guarantee you will
have more in the end. It's a great chance for you, my boy, and just to
protect you against yourself I'm going to hire a good man to watch
you."
Wallingford had already regained his breadth of chest, and now he began
to laugh. His shoulders heaved and the hundred jovial wrinkles about his
eyes creased with the humor of the thought that had come to him.
"You'd better hire three," he suggested, "and work them in eight-hour
shifts."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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