A SCANDAL AT THE MUTUAL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2664, 20 November 1909, Page 2 (Supplement)

A SCANDAL AT THE MUTUAL.

(By Channing Pollock.)

Sam Pettiman stood in the Avashroom of the, Mutual Bank with a fixed smile on his lips and a very damp toAvel in his hand. Both the smile and the toA\-el had performed their service '.jqiig since. Sam’s hands had been rubbed- until they Avere even redder than usual, and his lips had lost the. semblance of mirth they had given in the beginning. The most careless of felloAvs about him could see that he • kept: the corners of his mouth elevated with an effort. “That grin ain’t on the level,” said 'Charley Kirk, the .paying, .teller. “Sam, :tell us Avliy you Aviriked at the lady.” ' v , * ‘Felt sure she couldn’t • resisthis charms!” explained Ben Hoster. I‘TLord, but you’d have died if you’d. . heard her kicking to Cornwall. ‘I asked him liow dared lie wink at me,’ she said, ‘and he just stared a minute, and then winked again!’ ” * , ' Hoster chuckled at the recollection. He was a fair-haired youth, . with a good-natured, irresponsible , manner, arid the other young men joined readily in ;his merriment.: • ig||

Prettiman’s smile faded, his cheeks flushed, and then, suddenly,, liis left eye closed and ivas opened again. It wasn’t a wink; it Avas a great deal- : more like a squint, a contortion ecus- ! ed by some affection of the optic nerve, : but the little group in the washroom burst into a roar of laughter. “Prettiman!” gasped Kirk. “Well, if you ain’t the uuprettiest Prettiman I over saw!” This much was certainly true. Who. ever was ; responsible for the family name must have lacked either a prophetic soul or a sense —of humo/. One might have hunted with, a searchlight, instead of with the lantern of Diogenes, and not have found an uglier man than Sam Prettiman. From his shock of rebellious red hair to the square toes of his huge boots, the assistant receiving teller of the Alutual was ludicrously, ridiculously unprepossessing. His lank, ungainly body stretched upward in the shape of a cheap iron pump, from Avliich his thin arms depended like a couple of broken handles. His face was freckled, his nose Avas snub, and, by Avay of a final touch, he was given to the involuntary wink which, only that afternoon had got him into trouble with the cashier. From the very beginning of his career, six years before, he had joined the bank’s forces as a messenger, Sam had been the unfailing joy of his colleagues, the butt of their jokes and the victim of their thoughtless humor. He had always smiled in return —there was nothing else to do—but the smile had never been very much “on the level.” “No wonder the lady was agitated,' one of the boys remarked, when there was a lapse of hilarity. “Who could resist that Avink?” “Honest,” inquired Iloster, “did you ’ ever try it with any girl you was struck ■ on Or did you ever get to know a girl well enough to,be struck on her?” ' “Yes,” said Sam Prettiman gravely. ' His cheeks were whiter than paper now. The color had gone out of them suddenly, and there was a look of desperate resolution in his restless eyes. He stopped at the word “yes” and J swallowed hard. } “Continue,“ fair sir,” burlesqued 1 young Hoster. “Your story interests me. I suppose she was crazy about 7 you?” B “I don’t know,” said the assistant a receiving teller answered very quietly. “I guess she liked me pretty well. We’re to be married some time next month.” • “Alarried ” ejaculated Ivirk, while 6 the rest of the group stood aghast. “Well, by jingo, she must be crazy 1” They carried the news to Cornwall on their way out oi the bo.ttk, mid he 6 laughed, too, as much as was consisJ " tent with the superiority of a cashier, n but it was evident that the announced ment had not been without effect. y During the next week'or so there Avas no more joking at the expense of Pretd timan. A chap Avho is about to be 0 married deserves some respect, and Sam’.s quiet dignity had ime pressed his tormentors Avitli the realisation that there Avas something in him Li deeper doAvn than the roots of his • brick-coloured hair. L ' They Averen’t r.eally bad felloAvs at 1 ‘ the Alutual; only fond of fun and a little rough in their manner of having h it. r 11. a Prettyman lost his post at the Avina doAA’, as lie had lost the position of s solicitor to the bank a month before. - It Avasn’t that CornAvall blamed him d for Avinking—CornAvall kneAV all about • that affection of the optic nerves—but I no business house can afford to keep e in contact with its patrons men who 3 repel instead of attract. Sam Avent back to hi.s ledgers and to t the thousand dollars a year from which t he had tAvice succeeded in raising hini- • self. He had ono consolation in his hour of trial—“the boys” let him alone, i Most, of them really liked the clumsy, • good-humoured book-keeper, and even the delicious coincidence of his name i and appearance Avouldn’t have been a temptation if they had realised hoAV their chaff hurt. ' _ a Prettiman’s looks didn’t suggest seni sitiveness any more than does an alligator’s hide. Even in these days of > immunity, Kirk or Hoster or Denning, ~ who Avas in charge of the vaults, Avould i sometimes indulge in a cheery thrust, as “How’s the girl, Sam? Has she tumbled to you?” ; As months passed Avitho'ut further reference to the engagement , from the person principally concerned, these observations became more pointed. “Not spliced yet?” asked Hoster one afternoon Avhen Sam stood at the desk, extending his balances. “Bet a nickel she’s thrown you doAvn!” “No she hasn’t,” said Sam blotting a little puddle of red ink that had dropped from his pen at the remark. “When’s; it coming off?’ Hoster persisted* ' “Oh, soon,” returned Prettiman. Sure enough less than a fortnight" afterwards the people at. the Alutual all received neatly engraved information that the Avedding had taken place., MR AND AIRS HARVEY GLENROY announce the marriage of their daughter ELIZABETH. . MR SAMUEL PRETTIAIAN ” . ■ on " . - Saturday evening, June 10th. • “Stingy!.’ exclaimed Denning. “Why didn't you‘let us in on the lead? We’d have done’ the handsome.” , “Huh I” quoth Sam. “Do you sup-' ! pose I Avanted to be kidded at the < ! altar? ; “Boys,’ he added with sudden en- . thusiasm, “she’s a. corker, and" I guess j maybe she ain’t fond of me 1 Nobody’s ever been as fond of me—since my . mother.” ; ' s •••• .-■■■'• ' ■' .

IH. From that time on nobody ever “kidded Sam Prettiman. Something new had come into, his manner —a reserve, an earnestness that Avas almost forbidding. Moreover, he was forever talking about “the wife ” . _ “She’s great !” he said a dozen times. “And AA'liat a fuss she makes over me 1 . You’d think I Avas ‘Curly’ Bellevv 1” “Why don’t you ever bring her down to the bank?” asked Denning. “Trot her out and let’s have a look at her.” “She Avon’t come out,’ avoAved Prettiman. “She’s that interested in her home. She’d rather sit around Avith mo in the evening than go to any theatre that ever was.” He said this and other things like it so often that “the boys” were fairly shocked one morning Avhen Kirk reported having seen him at a roof-gar-den with “another Avoman,” because he had “hung around” waiting in vain for an introduction, and had heard Prettiman address her as “Clara.” “Airs Prettiman’s named Elizabeth,” explained Kirk. “It’s on that Avedding announcement.”. “Friend of my Avife’s,” Sam elucidated when they Avent to him for an explanation. “Kind of a hull-cousin, you know.” That Avas all very avoll for the time being, but presently there began to be rumors in the air. Airs Prettiipr.n s predilection for “sitting around in the evening” endured, and Prettiman sat around, too, but it was always at restaurants and theatres, and invariably Avith “Clara.” Then came the night when Hoster ran into the couple at an Italian table d’hote cn Seventh Avenue, and deliberately sat beside them, so that Sam had to present him. Air Prettiman says you’re related to his wife,” quoth Hoster, and the girl turned scarlet. “His wife?” she exclaimed. “She looked like she was going through the floor,” Ben said, in relating the incident. “Sure as you live Prettiman’s been deceiving her. She didn’t know lie had a wife!” Sam looked wretched throughout the day, but kept his mouth shut, and nobody mentioned the matter to him. Things had got too serious for chaff, and what “guying” the boys did was done when they were by themselves. “Gosh!” said Kirk. “Just think of Prettiman having an affinity!” So melioav the scandal got to CornAvail. The same afternoon the cashier sent , for Prettiman. “P'don’t want to b( severe,” he said, with Ills most official manner, “but nothing is more essential to an institution like this than the good character of its employees. It Avill not do for vou to be seen about constantly Avith a Avcman who is not your wife. You’ll have to give her up.” “She’s gi\'en me up,” retorted Sam. He looked very miserable and uglier than ever, standing there with his mouth drawn tight and his left eye winking rapidly. “She gave me up the night Hoster told her about—about Elizabeth.” 1 “I’m glad to hear it,” quoth Corn--1 wall virtuously. “I hope there will not be a reneAval of your relations.” ' The bookkeeper’s mouth drew tighter, then relaxed, and a great sob shook ' him. It was a dry sob—there wasn’t even a suspicion of moisture in his eyes. “I love her!” he blurted out. “I love her bettor’n anybody—anybody! And she loves me! That’s the wonderful part about it —she loA’es me! “Mr Prettiman!” interrupted the cashier. He AA’as shocked, horrified. To what was the world coming, Avhen Sam Prettiman — “But your wife?!’ he queried blindly* “I ain’t got a wife!” said Prettiman. “Oh, Heavens—can’t you understand? I never had a Avife! It was all—a lie!” “A lie?” “A lie?” “Yes! I made it-up; don’t you see? I couldn’t .stand the boys’ ‘kiddin’! I couldn’t let ’em think I was so—-so awful—there couldn’t be nobody care for me! I told the lie on the spur of the moment, and then I had to live up to it ! I got the names out of a book ! I had the cards ,printed myself ! And aftemvards I met this girl, and she loved me !” “Great Scott!” murmured the cashier. _ ■ “She did lo\ T e me—she’s promised to marry me —but Hoster—that settled it, arid I haven’t the nerve to tell her! But I’m going to now! I ain’t going to do without her —no matter what she thinks of me! I’m going to have a teal wife—-wouldn’t you?” “Yes,” Cornwall affirmed quietly. “I would.” Then he added: “I’m afraid we’ve all been a little unkind. “The boys didn’t mean any harm,” returned..Prettiman. - ‘ ‘AIr: Proctor’s, going to take on a secretary,” Cornwall' said. Mr Proctor was president of the Alutual. The salary, will be twelve hundred a year, and, of, course,: the-AVork pvill be done in his private office. Would you • ' “Would I!” interrupted Sam Prettiman Avith breathless delight. “Well,” continued the cashier, “you marry the girl, and then we’ll see. Prettiman walked back to his desk. His smile, was so wide that Hoster said, he looked like a nut-cracker; but Prettiman didn’t care. ■ ; T .