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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Right," he agreed, suddenly assuming the abrupt accents of an improbable Englishman, "oh very right, old chap. Let's toddle along and see what Fu Manchu has to say for himself. First off though I shall have to phone in to Fleet Street I mean to W R." "Fine. You can ask him at the same time to authorize you to give me the other thirty." Gootes lost his British speech instantly.
Now, the famous editor's reputation was such that you didnt tell him to go to the devil, even through the medium of an agent; it would have been like writing your name on the Lincoln Memorial. It was reluctantly therefore that I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Mr Gootes," I apologized, "I'd certainly like to oblige " He cut me off with a waving hand and turned cheerfully back to the telephone.
Gootes shook his head. "An agrostologist? Even an agronomist? Then you can't have the slightest idea what I'm talking about." "Maybe not," retorted Gootes, "but one of my readers might. Just give me a rough idea." "Plants absorb certain minerals in suspension. That is, they absorb some and reject others.
Gootes led me from the elevator through an enormous room where men and an occasional woman sat indolently before typewriters, stared druggedly into space or flew paper airplanes out of open windows. Even the nipples showed. Beyond the cityroom was a battery of private offices. I will certainly not conceal the existence of my extreme nervousness as we neared the proximity of the famous editor.
"The-uh curse of Garry-baldi be upon the head of that ee-veal man who-uh controls this organeye-zation," rolled out Gootes in pseudoChurchillian tones. "The-uh monster has woven a web; we are-uh summoned, Bertie." I got up resignedly and followed him to the managingeditor's office. We were not greeted directly. Instead, a question was thrown furiously over our heads. "Where is he?
Gootes, unjointing disproportioned length carelessly against the sink to the peril of several jars of specimens, didnt reply. Instead he fluttered his arms and produced a halfdollar, apparently from Miss Francis' hair, which after exhibiting he prudently pocketed. "Tell me, Dr Francis " "Miss. Show me how you did that trick." "In a minute, Miss Francis. It's a honey, isnt it?
Slafe scorned reply, pushing Gootes aside with one plump hand while with the other he tidied the sparse black hairs of his mustache, which was trimmed down to an eyebrow shading his lip.
"Snatched from the buzzsaw as the express thundered across the switch and the water came up to our noses," chanted Gootes. "W R has a vilely melodramatic sense of timing." The ladder was nearest Slafe, but working more furiously than ever, he waved it impatiently aside and so I grasped it and started upward.
"Lassie," urged Gootes, underlining the honey of his voice with a tantalizing glimpse of a rapidfire snatching of three colored handkerchiefs out of the air, "tis no sensible course ye follow. Think, gurrl, what the press can do to a recalcitrant lass like yoursel. Ye wouldna like it if tomorrow's paper branded you and I quote 'an unsexed harpy, a traitor to mankind, a heartless, soulless "
If I were hypersensitive to the silly things people say, I should have given up selling long before. I pretended not to hear him. We walked into a drugstore and he dropped a nickel into a payphone, hunching the receiver between ear and shoulder. "Fifty your last word?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth. I nodded. "Hello? 'Gencer? Gootes. Hya, beautiful? Syphilis all cleared up?
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