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Updated: May 7, 2025
"That is a curious psychological problem, William." "Gee! is it as bad as that? I hope it ain't fatal." Whimple smiled. "No," he said, slowly, "and yet, my boy, there is only one way to build up a good reputation. Do you go to Sunday school?" "Well not reg'lar. Sunday's the busy time for me." "Busy! Why?" "Sure I take the kiddies out if it's fine, and maybe we don't have the bully times.
"Did you ever try starving, Miss Whimple?" he demanded. "Heavens, no! what would I want to try that for?" "Well, I'm glad if you never have to," was the answer. "My Dad came near to it sometimes before he got onter his feet, and I ain't very old myself, but I've seen the day I'd walked a long way to get my teeth into a piece of beef-steak." "I don't believe you."
Here he found Whimple, having just successfully emerged from a case in which he had defended a man accused of theft, chatting with the county crown attorney. "Excuse me, Mister Whimple," said William, abruptly, "but them guys are at it again." "Meaning ?" began Whimple. "In Tommy Watson's store," William went on hurriedly, "and, honest, it's fierce.
A third letter was written, imploring the recipient to have mercy, or words to that effect, and two days afterwards a detective called on Whimple and Tommy Watson. He found them together in Tommy's store and opened the conversation with the hope that they were not writing any more love letters. They were dumbfounded.
Yet he does it so winningly that's the word, I think that any jury would acquit him. And his slang uh!" He shrugged his shoulders. "Fierce, ain't it?" said Tommy smilingly. "But can he really read these books?" Whimple reiterated. "You should hear him and see him tackling the dictionary when he's stuck. Besides I'm telling you everything mind in confidence 'Chuck' Epstein reads with him."
From Whimple, and later from "Chuck" Epstein, he obtained further light, and, on the comedian's invitation, attended two or three of the amateur entertainments in which William had a part. Epstein was chary in consenting to William appearing in the cast of such entertainments, and William could not be persuaded to do anything in this regard unless Epstein favoured it.
He thus explained it to Lucien. "You shoulder seen the Turnpike bunch at the exhibition yesterday." "So that's where you were. Mr. Whimple said he understood you were engaged on important private business matters." "Well, he ain't far wrong the way I look at it." "And were you ?" "Yes," broke in William, "I was around when the lion broke outer the wild beast show I'm coming to that soon.
So I knew they didn't want a job; they just wanted a place to bum in. You should'er heard me shooing 'em away. I told 'em you had made your selection and I was IT." Whimple smiled and William returned the salute. He saw in his employer a young man, tall, with a brown-eyed, good-looking face, and a head of red hair.
He listened for a few minutes, wrathful and unhappy, because he felt that this was the time above all others when Tommy's business should be attended to with diligence and enthusiasm, and then, still unnoticed, he stole out of the store and ran back to the office. Whimple was not in, and William, hastily glancing over his employer's daily reminder, made a bee line for the county court.
By the end of the first month, he had won Whimple to an announcement on the outer door to the effect that office hours were from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.; and he had established his own luncheon hour as from 12 to 1. "It wouldn't do for you," he said gravely to Whimple, "to be takin' your lunch then, because you're a per-fession'l man. You gotter keep up with the procesh if you wanter make good."
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