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Updated: May 29, 2025
He called it "a dress-suit," and before the complications of that exotic garb, he was flabby with anxiety. To Milt and to Schoenstrom to Bill McGolwey, even to Prof Jones and the greasily prosperous Heinie Rauskukle the dress-suit was the symbol and proof, the indication and manner, of sophisticated wealth. In Schoenstrom even waiters do not wear dress-suits.
He owns about half the town, besides the store. Rauskukle, his name is. He owns a lot of mortgages, and he gambles in farm-lands. Good nut on him, that fellow. Why, they say he's worth three or four hundred thousand dollars!
But learn to dance the fox-trot, though! If America gets into the war, I'll get into the engineering corps, and come back to school afterward." "Will the finances " "I'll sell my garage, by mail. Rauskukle will take it. He won't rob me of more than a thousand dollars on price not much more." "You're going to love Seattle. And we'll have some good tramps while I'm there, you and I." "Honestly?
Minnie Rauskukle, plump, hearty Minnie, heiress to the general store, gave evidence by bridling and straightening her pigeon-like body that she was aware of Milt behind her. He did not speak to her. He ducked into the door of the Old Home Poolroom and Restaurant.
There has never been a Freshman, not the most goggle-eyed and earnest of them, who has seen less of classmates, thought less about "outside activities," more grimly centered the universe about his work. Milt had sold his garage, by mail, to Ben Sittka and Heinie Rauskukle. He had enough money to get through two years, with economy. His life was as simple and dull as it had been in Schoenstrom.
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