added–ah yes, the balance due the company from yourself and Mr. Sellers
is $7,960, which I will take the responsibility of allowing to stand for
the present, unless you prefer to draw a check now, and thus—-”
“Confound it, do you mean to say that instead of the company owing us
$2,400, we owe the company $7,960?”
“Well, yes.”
“And that we owe the men and the contractors nearly ten thousand dollars
besides?”
“Owe them! Oh bless my soul, you can’t mean that you have not paid these
people?”
“But I do mean it!”
The president rose and walked the floor like a man in bodily pain. His
brows contracted, he put his hand up and clasped his forehead, and kept
saying, “Oh, it is, too bad, too bad, too bad! Oh, it is bound to be
found out–nothing can prevent it–nothing!”
Then he threw himself into his chair and said:
“My dear Mr. Brierson, this is dreadful–perfectly dreadful. It will be
found out. It is bound to tarnish the good name of the company; our
credit will be seriously, most seriously impaired. How could you be so
thoughtless–the men ought to have been paid though it beggared us all!”
“They ought, ought they? Then why the devil–my name is not Bryerson, by
the way–why the mischief didn’t the compa–why what in the nation ever
became of the appropriation? Where is that appropriation?–if a
stockholder may make so bold as to ask.”
The appropriation?–that paltry $200,000, do you mean?”
“Of course–but I didn’t know that $200,000 was so very paltry. Though I
grant, of course, that it is not a large sum, strictly speaking. But
where is it?”
“My dear sir, you surprise me. You surely cannot have had a large
acquaintance with this sort of thing. Otherwise you would not have
expected much of a result from a mere INITIAL appropriation like that.
It was never intended for anything but a mere nest egg for the future and
real appropriations to cluster around.”
“Indeed? Well, was it a myth, or was it a reality? Whatever become of
it?”
“Why the–matter is simple enough. A Congressional appropriation costs
money. Just reflect, for instance–a majority of the House Committee,
say $10,000 apiece–$40,000; a majority of the Senate Committee, the same
each–say $40,000; a little extra to one or two chairman of one or two
such committees, say $10,000 each–$20,000; and there’s $100,000 of the
money gone, to begin with. Then, seven male lobbyists, at $3,000 each–
$21,000; one female lobbyist, $10,000; a high moral Congressman or
Senator here and there–the high moral ones cost more, because they.
give tone to a measure–say ten of these at $3,000 each, is $30,000; then
a lot of small-fry country members who won’t vote for anything whatever
without pay–say twenty at $500 apiece, is $10,000; a lot of dinners to
members–say $10,000 altogether; lot of jimcracks for Congressmen’s wives
and children–those go a long way–you can’t sped too much money in that
line–well, those things cost in a lump, say $10,000–along there
somewhere; and then comes your printed documents–your maps, your tinted
engravings, your pamphlets, your illuminated show cards, your
advertisements in a hundred and fifty papers at ever so much a line–
because you’ve got to keep the papers all light or you are gone up, you
know. Oh, my dear sir, printing bills are destruction itself. Ours so
far amount to–let me see–10; 52; 22; 13;–and then there’s 11; 14; 33–
well, never mind the details, the total in clean numbers foots up
$118,254.42 thus far!”
“What!”
“Oh, yes indeed. Printing’s no bagatelle, I can tell you. And then
there’s your contributions, as a company, to Chicago fires and Boston
fires, and orphan asylums and all that sort of thing–head the list, you
see, with the company’s full name and a thousand dollars set opposite–
great card, sir–one of the finest advertisements in the world–the
preachers mention it in the pulpit when it’s a religious charity–one of
the happiest advertisements in the world is your benevolent donation.
Ours have amounted to sixteen thousand dollars and some cents up to this
time.”
“Good heavens!”
“Oh, yes. Perhaps the biggest thing we’ve done in the advertising line