Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Mistresses -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“We deal with a very good class of people,” he told Hurstwood.
“Merchants, salesmen, and professionals. It’s a well-dressed class. No
bums. We don’t allow ’em in the place.”
Hurstwood listened to the cash-register ring, and watched the trade for
a while.
“It’s profitable enough for two, is it?” he asked.
“You can see for yourself if you’re any judge of the liquor trade,”
said the owner. “This is only one of the two places I have. The other
is down in Nassau Street. I can’t tend to them both alone. If I had
some one who knew the business thoroughly I wouldn’t mind sharing with
him in this one and letting him manage it.”
“I’ve had experience enough,” said Hurstwood blandly, but he felt a
little diffident about referring to Fitzgerald and Moy.
“Well, you can suit yourself, Mr. Wheeler,” said the proprietor.
He only offered a third interest in the stock, fixtures, and good-will,
and this in return for a thousand dollars and managerial ability on the
part of the one who should come in. There was no property involved,
because the owner of the saloon merely rented from an estate.
The offer was genuine enough, but it was a question with Hurstwood
whether a third interest in that locality could be made to yield one
hundred and fifty dollars a month, which he figured he must have in
order to meet the ordinary family expenses and be comfortable. It was
not the time, however, after many failures to find what he wanted, to
hesitate. It looked as though a third would pay a hundred a month now.
By judicious management and improvement, it might be made to pay more.
Accordingly he agreed to enter into partnership, and made over his
thousand dollars, preparing to enter the next day.
His first inclination was to be elated, and he confided to Carrie that
he thought he had made an excellent arrangement. Time, however,
introduced food for reflection. He found his partner to be very
disagreeable. Frequently he was the worse for liquor, which made him
surly. This was the last thing which Hurstwood was used to in business.
Besides, the business varied. It was nothing like the class of
patronage which he had enjoyed in Chicago. He found that it would take
a long time to make friends. These people hurried in and out without
seeking the pleasures of friendship. It was no gathering or lounging
place. Whole days and weeks passed without one such hearty greeting as
he had been wont to enjoy every day in Chicago.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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