Skinner's Dress Suit Part 13

_Dress-Suit Account_

_Debit_ _Credit_

Interesting discovery of generally unsuspected facts in the habits of "gold bugs."

While Skinner was sailing over a fair sea, untroubled by anything but the growing fear that some day Honey might find him out,--about the "raise,"--storm clouds were gathering in a wholly unsuspected quarter.

"I saw our Skinner getting out of the Pullman this morning," said Perkins to the senior partner.

"What of it?" said McLaughlin.

"I see him getting out of it every morning."

"Still what of it?" persisted McLaughlin. "The Pullman habit isn't expensive--only a quarter from Meadeville."

"Oh, nothing," observed Perkins. "Nothing in itself, but new clothes and traveling round in a Pullman don't square with the fact that Skinner did n't get his raise."

McLaughlin swung around in his chair. "Say, Perk, what do you mean by these hints? You never _did_ like Skinner."

"You're mistaken, Mac. It was his clothes I did n't like."

"You've been throwing out hints," McLaughlin reiterated, "and bothering me so much lately about Skinner, I wish to goodness I _had_ raised his salary."

"I know," Perkins persisted, "but see what our Skinner's habits have been in the past--penurious. Why the sudden change? You know just as well as I do that a clerk can't travel around with the rich."

"Why not? The man's been saving money for years--got a bank account.

All these little things we've noticed you could cover with a few hundred dollars. Come, Perk, out with it! Just what do you mean?"

"It's only a suggestion, Mac, not even a hint--but Pullman cars are great hot-beds for hatching all kinds of financial schemes. That's where you get your Wall Street tips--that's where they grow."

McLaughlin looked serious. He drummed on his desk with the paper-cutter and waited.

"Tips are very good when they go right," Perkins went on, "but when they go wrong--" He hesitated.

"I get you. They're dangerous to a man who is employed in a fiduciary capacity," said McLaughlin very quietly.

"I believe as you do," urged Perkins, "that Skinner is the most honest and loyal man in America--but other honest and loyal men--well, darn it, they're all human."

"Well?" McLaughlin observed, and waited.

"It's a part of wisdom to be cautious. It's just as much for his good as it is for ours. An ounce of prevention, you know. Besides, it's _our_ money he's handling."

"You may be right," said McLaughlin, rising. "But go slow--wait a little. I'll keep my eye on the Meadeville end of it for a while."

Skinner not only "listened" himself into the affections of Stephen Colby, but into the affections of other members of the "gold-bug" set as well. He won his way more with his ears than with his tongue. He'd only been a member of the Pullman contingent a fortnight when he and Honey were invited to dine with the Howard Hemingways. There they met all the vicarious members of the Pullman Club--the wives.

The Hemingway dinner was an open sesame to the Skinners. The ladies of the "walled-in" element began to take Honey up. They called on her.

She was made a member of the bridge club.

It cost Honey something to learn the game,--some small money losses,--but these were never charged to the dress-suit account, for a very obvious reason.

So popular did the Skinners become that it was seldom they dined at home. Skinner, methodical man that he was, put down in his little book to the credit of the dress-suit account, not the value of the dinner they got, but what they'd actually saved on each occasion. And he began to feel that the dress suit was earning good interest in cash on the investment.

The Skinners, now that they had engaged in active social life, learned one valuable lesson, which was something of an eye-opener to them both.

They found that they had constantly to be on dress parade, as it were, and that in the manners of the social devotee, no less than in his clothes, there can be no letdown. Also, they found that, on occasions, their dining out cost them more in the wear and tear on their patience than a dinner at home would have cost them in cash. For instance, when they returned from the Brewsters' dinner one night. Skinner jotted down in his little book:--

_Dress-Suit Account_

_Debit_ _Credit_

Never again!

One bad evening!

When you go to the Brewsters, you've got to talk all the time about their prodigy son who writes plays.

Anything else bores them, and if you do talk about him, you 're bored.

d.a.m.ned if you do, d.a.m.ned if you don't! It's a draw, and a draw is a waste of time!

"Well, Perk," said McLaughlin one morning, "I've got an interesting bit for you. The Skinners are doing the society stunt: bridge and that sort of thing."

"That's not enough to convict."

"They're splurging. They're buying rugs and pictures!"

As a matter of fact, Honey had bought one modest rug and one modest picture to fill up certain bare s.p.a.ces over against the meeting of the bridge club at her house, and being a good manager she could make any purchase "show off" to the limit. But the Skinners' ice man in detailing the thing to the McLaughlins' maid had a.s.siduously applied the multiplication table.

McLaughlin paused.

"Well," said Perkins, "what do you make of it?"

"He's getting too big for his breeches."

"Well?" said Perkins.

"I hate to do it," said McLaughlin, "but--"

"Well?" said Perkins.

"Don't stand there saying 'well,' Perk. Help me out."

"What are you going to do about it, Mac?"

"Did you notice him this morning? He looks as worried as the devil!"

McLaughlin drummed on his desk with the paper-cutter. "Perk, we've got to do something--and we've got to do it sudden."