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Updated: May 27, 2025
I was partially relieved from my uneasiness by the appearance of George Thario, who bounded in, waved lightly at his sisters and kissed his mother just below her hairline. "My respectful duty, Mama," he greeted. "Damned hypocrisy. You did your duty youd be in the army." "Bloodpressure," warned Constance. "Have they made you thoroughly miserable, Mr Weener?
He was cool, efficient, seemed to have eyes everywhere and know everything going on in the entire building. He spent neither greetings nor reproaches on me, indeed was not looking in my direction but somehow sensed my presence through his back, for he said without turning round, "Weener, if you have concluded your unaccountable peregrinations remove the two files marked E1925 and E1926 to Pomona.
"Since the Intelligencer, for reasons best known to itself, chooses not to avail itself of my contributions, but prints my name over words I have not written, there could be no possible objection to my slipping away to Nevada until this investigation ends." His face became a pretty shade of plum. "Weener, youre a thief, a petty, cadging, sly, larcenous, pilfering, bloody thief.
Maybe Brother Paul was not treading a true path; I doubt if he was or I would not have been led aside from following him so easily; but when I was doing his work I was at least trying to do the will of God and not the will of another man no better spiritually, you understand, Mr Weener, spiritually than myself. "But now His Voice has sought me out again and I must once more take up the cross.
"It was mine, Mr Weener, you know it was mine and I did not protest when you stole it; I worked loyally and unselfishly for you. It isnt the money, Mr Weener, really it isnt it's the idea of being thrown out of my own business. At least let me stay on the Board of Directors; youll never have any trouble from me, I promise you that."
A slight cash investment just enough to get production started how many wishful times Ive heard it. I was a salesman, not a sucker, and anyway I was for the moment without liquid capital. "It will change the face of the world, Weener.
Think of the discouragement you as a citizen would feel to be hampered, perhaps more than is necessary." He took his hand down from his mouth and looked at me out of blue eyes so pale as to be almost colorless. "But hang it, you know, Mr Weener ... highly irregular. Sympathize completely, but consider ... don't like being put in such a position ... why don't you come back in the morning?"
How Miss Francis contrived to make every place she lived in, apartment, chickenhouse or cottage, look exactly alike was remarkable. Nothing is more absurd than the notion that socalled intellectual workers are always alert as Miss Francis demonstrated by her greeting to me. "Well, Weener, what is it this time? Selling on commission or an interview?"
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