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Updated: June 24, 2025
I picked up the receiver and called Eternal City. Yes, Mr. T-S was there, but he was "on the lot" and could not be disturbed. I gave my name, and stated that it was a matter of life and death; Mr. T-S must come to the phone instantly. A couple of minutes later I heard his voice, and told him the situation, and also my scheme.
"Well," said Carpenter, "why don't we find one?" "It's no use, Billy. He thinks it's up to me to feed all de bums on de lot. Is dat it, Mr. Carpenter?" "I can't say, Mr. T-S; I don't know how many there are, and I don't know how rich you are." "Vell, dey got five million out o' verks in this country now, and if I vanted to bust myself, I could feed 'em vun day, maybe two.
"You have taken a great liberty!" "There wasn't any time to argue," I said. "If you knew what I know about the police of Western City and their manners, you wouldn't want to monkey with them." Mary backed me up earnestly. "They'd have mashed your face, Mr. Carpenter." "My face?" he repeated. "Is not a man more than his face?" You should have heard the shout of T-S! "Vot?
The other's face, which had looked so grey and haggard, was suddenly illumined as if by his magical halo. "I had forgotten it! There are so many hungry in there; I have been watching them, wondering when they would be fed." "All right," said T-S. "Here you are." And reaching into his pocket, he produced a wad of new shiny hundred dollar notes, folded together. "Count 'em."
Betsy and pretty Nassirah very thin and miserable, and the pious old Abdool sitting on a little barrel waiting for 'gun-fire' i.e. sunset, to fall to on the supper which old Betsy was setting out. He was silent, and the corners of his mouth were drawn down just like -'s at an evening party. I shall go to-morrow to bid the T-s good-bye, at Wynberg.
Dem fellers is hungry, and de money vill give dem vun good feed. Ve git somebody to bring it to dem, and we be friends shoost de same. Billy, maybe you could give it, hey?" I drew back with a laugh. "You don't get me into your quarrels!" "Vell," said T-S and suddenly he had an inspiration. "I know. I git Mary Magna to give it! She's a voman!" Carpenter turned with sudden wonder.
"Oh, my Gawd!" "There are ten million people doomed to starve. Their children eat grass, and their bellies swell up and their legs dwindle to broom-sticks; they stagger and fall into the ditches, and other children tear their flesh and devour it." "O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!" wailed Maw; and the diners at Prince's began to stare. "Now looka here!" cried T-S, wildly.
"I will put up that money," I said to T-S; but to my surprise he cried: "You ain't gonna put up nuttin'! God damn dem fellers, I'll beat 'em if it costs me a million!" So I realized that the prophet had made one more convert! "Have you got that bus with the siren?" I asked; and when he answered, yes, I said, "Let that be the signal.
Suddenly I recalled what I had read in the morning's paper. The workers of the famous lobster palace had gone on strike, and trouble was feared. I told T-S, and he exclaimed: "Oh, hell! Ain't we got troubles enough vit strikers in de studios, vitout dey come spoilin' our dinner?" The footman had jumped from his seat, and had the door open, and the great man began to alight.
I was as much mystified as the picture magnate, but I held my peace, and Carpenter led us to the elevator, and down to the street. "No," said he, to T-S, "there is no need to get into your car. The place is just around the corner." And he put his arm in that of the magnate, and led him down the street somewhat to the embarrassment of his victim, for there was a crowd following us.
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