his pocket. 'I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give this thing a trial
for a week or two, and at the end of that time I'll go to the boss and
see how he reacts when I ask for a rise of salary. If he crawls, it'll
show there's something in this. If he flings me out, it will prove the
thing's no good.'
We left it at that, and I am bound to say--owing, no doubt, to my not
having written for the booklet of the Memory Training Course advertised
on the adjoining page of the magazine--the matter slipped from my mind.
When, therefore, a few weeks later, I received a telegram from young
Mackintosh which ran:
Worked like magic,
I confess I was intensely puzzled. It was only a quarter of an hour
before George himself arrived that I solved the problem of its meaning.
'So the boss crawled?' I said, as he came in.
He gave a light, confident laugh. I had not seen him, as I say, for
some time, and I was struck by the alteration in his appearance. In
what exactly this alteration consisted I could not at first have said;
but gradually it began to impress itself on me that his eye was
brighter, his jaw squarer, his carriage a trifle more upright than it
had been. But it was his eye that struck me most forcibly. The George
Mackintosh I had known had had a pleasing gaze, but, though frank and
agreeable, it had never been more dynamic than a fried egg. This new
George had an eye that was a combination of a gimlet and a searchlight.
Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, I imagine, must have been somewhat
similarly equipped. The Ancient Mariner stopped a wedding guest on his
way to a wedding; George Mackintosh gave me the impression that he
could have stopped the Cornish Riviera express on its way to Penzance.
Self-confidence--aye, and more than self-confidence--a sort of sinful,
overbearing swank seemed to exude from his very pores.
'Crawled?' he said. 'Well, he didn't actually lick my boots, because I
saw him coming and side-stepped; but he did everything short of that. I
hadn't been talking an hour when----'
'An hour!' I gasped. 'Did you talk for an hour?'
'Certainly. You wouldn't have had me be abrupt, would you? I went into
his private office and found him alone. I think at first he would have
been just as well pleased if I had retired. In fact, he said as much.
But I soon adjusted that outlook. I took a seat and a cigarette, and
then I started to sketch out for him the history of my connection with
the firm. He began to wilt before the end of the first ten minutes. At
the quarter of an hour mark he was looking at me like a lost dog that's
just found its owner. By the half-hour he was making little bleating
noises and massaging my coat-sleeve. And when, after perhaps an hour
and a half, I came to my peroration and suggested a rise, he choked
back a sob, gave me double what I had asked, and invited me to dine at
his club next Tuesday. I'm a little sorry now I cut the thing so short.
A few minutes more, and I fancy he would have given me his
sock-suspenders and made over his life-insurance in my favour.'
'Well,' I said, as soon as I could speak, for I was finding my young
friend a trifle overpowering, 'this is most satisfactory.'
