do, assuming that he would be so fortunate as to connect
himself with such an institution as this.
And it was all so brisk and enlivening that he wished that he
might be so fortunate as to secure a position here. But
would he be? And where was Mr. Squires? He approached
the youth at the small desk: “Do you know where I will find
Mr. Squires?” he asked.
“Here he comes now,” replied the youth, looking up and
examining Clyde with keen, gray eyes.
Clyde gazed in the direction indicated, and saw
approaching a brisk and dapper and decidedly
sophisticated-looking person of perhaps twenty-nine or
thirty years of age. He was so very slender, keen, hatchet-
faced and well-dressed that Clyde was not only impressed
but overawed at once—a very shrewd and cunning-looking
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person. His nose was so long and thin, his eyes so sharp,
his lips thin, and chin pointed.
“Did you see that tall, gray-haired man with the Scotch plaid
shawl who went through here just now?” he paused to say
to his assistant at the desk. The assistant nodded. “Well,
they tell me that’s the Earl of Landreil. He just came in this
morning with fourteen trunks and four servants. Can you
beat it! He’s somebody in Scotland. That isn’t the name he
travels under, though, I hear. He’s registered as Mr. Blunt.
Can you beat that English stuff? They can certainly lay on
the class, eh?”
“You said it!” replied his assistant deferentially.
He turned for the first time, glimpsing Clyde, but paying no
attention to him. His assistant came to Clyde’s aid.
“That young fella there is waiting to see you,” he explained.
“You want to see me?” queried the captain of the bellhops,
turning to Clyde, and observing his none-too-good clothes,
at the same time making a comprehensive study of him.
“The gentleman in the drug store,” began Clyde, who did
not quite like the looks of the man before him, but was
determined to present himself as agreeably as possible,
“was saying—that is, he said that I might ask you if there
was any chance here for me as a bell-boy. I’m working now
at Klinkle’s drug store at 7th and Brooklyn, as a helper, but
I’d like to get out of that and he said you might—that is—he
thought you had a place open now.” Clyde was so flustered
and disturbed by the cool, examining eyes of the man
before him that he could scarcely get his breath properly,
and swallowed hard.
For the first time in his life, it occurred to him that if he
wanted to get on he ought to insinuate himself into the
good graces of people—do or say something that would
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52
make them like him. So now he contrived an eager,
ingratiating smile, which he bestowed on Mr. Squires, and
added: “If you’d like to give me a chance, I’d try very hard
and I’d be very willing.”
The man before him merely looked at him coldly, but being
the soul of craft and self-acquisitiveness in a petty way, and
rather liking anybody who had the skill and the will to be
diplomatic, he now put aside an impulse to shake his head
negatively, and observed: “But you haven’t had any training
in this work.”
“No, sir, but couldn’t I pick it up pretty quick if I tried hard?”
“Well, let me see,” observed the head of the bell-hops,
scratching his head dubiously. “I haven’t any time to talk to
you now. Come around Monday afternoon. I’ll see you
then.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
Clyde, left alone in this fashion, and not knowing just what it
meant, stared, wondering. Was it really true that he had
been invited to come back on Monday? Could it be possible
that——He turned and hurried out, thrilling from head to
toe. The idea! He had asked this man for a place in the
very finest hotel in Kansas City and he had asked him to
come back and see him on Monday. Gee! what would that
mean? Could it be possible that he would be admitted to
such a grand world as this—and that so speedily? Could it
really be?
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53
Chapter 5
THE imaginative flights of Clyde in connection with all this—
his dreams of what it might mean for him to be connected
with so glorious an institution—can only be suggested. For
his ideas of luxury were in the main so extreme and
mistaken and gauche—mere wanderings of a repressed
and unsatisfied fancy, which as yet had had nothing but
imaginings to feed it.
He went back to his old duties at the drug-store—to his
home after hours in order to eat and sleep—but now for the
balance of this Friday and Saturday and Sunday and
Monday until late in the day, he walked on air, really. His
mind was not on what he was doing, and several times his
superior at the drugstore had to remind him to “wake-up.”
And after hours, instead of going directly home, he walked
north to the corner of 14th and Baltimore, where stood this
great hotel, and looked at it. There, at midnight even,
before each of the three principal entrances—one facing
each of three streets—was a doorman in a long maroon
coat with many buttons and a high-rimmed and long-
visored maroon cap. And inside, behind looped and fluted
French silk curtains, were the still blazing lights, the a la
carte dining-room and the American grill in the basement
near one corner still open. And about them were many taxis
and cars. And there was music always—from somewhere.
After surveying it all this Friday night and again on Saturday
and Sunday morning, he returned on Monday afternoon at
the suggestion of Mr. Squires and was greeted by that
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individual rather crustily, for by then he had all but forgotten
him. But seeing that at the moment he was actually in need
of help, and being satisfied that Clyde might be of service,
he led him into his small office under the stair, where, with a
very superior manner and much actual indifference, he
proceeded to question him as to his parentage, where he
lived, at what he had worked before and where, what his
father did for a living—a poser that for Clyde, for he was
proud and so ashamed to admit that his parents conducted
a mission and preached on the streets. Instead he replied
(which was true at times) that his father canvassed for a
washing machine and wringer company—and on Sundays
preached—a religious revelation, which was not at all
displeasing to this master of boys who were inclined to be
anything but home-loving and conservative. Could he bring
a reference from where he now was? He could.
Mr. Squires proceeded to explain that this hotel was very
strict. Too many boys, on account of the scenes and the
show here, the contact made with undue luxury to which
they were not accustomed—though these were not the
words used by Mr. Squires—were inclined to lose their
heads and go wrong. He was constantly being forced to
discharge boys who, because they made a little extra
money, didn’t know how to conduct themselves. He must
have boys who were willing, civil, prompt, courteous to
everybody. They must be clean and neat about their
persons and clothes and show up promptly—on the dot—
and in good condition for the work every day. And any boy
who got to thinking that because he made a little money he
could flirt with anybody or talk back, or go off on parties at
night, and then not show up on time or too tired to be quick
and bright, needn’t think that he would be here long. He
would be fired, and that promptly. He would not tolerate any
nonsense. That must be understood now, once and for all.
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Clyde nodded assent often and interpolated a few eager
“yes, sirs” and “no, sirs,” and assured him at the last that it
was the furtherest thing from his thoughts and
temperament to dream of any such high crimes and
misdemeanors as he had outlined. Mr. Squires then
proceeded to explain that this hotel only paid fifteen dollars
a month and board—at the servant’s table in the basement
—to any bell-boy at any time. But, and this information
came as a most amazing revelation to Clyde, every guest
for whom any of these boys did anything—carried a beg or
delivered a pitcher of water or did anything—gave him a tip,
and often quite a liberal one—a dime, fifteen cents, a
quarter, sometimes more. And these tips, as Mr. Squires
explained, taken all together, averaged from four to six
dollars a day—not less and sometimes more—most
amazing pay, as Clyde now realized. His heart gave an
enormous bound and was near to suffocating him at the