Part 32 (1/2)
”Yes; try it, Monroe; you can get some one; can't you?” said Peter, with an extra bang on his fat leg as an extra emphasis to his seriousness.
”I've never met my Fate--that is, no Fate that would care to take me,”
he remarked, with the smile gone.
”How about Jarney's girl?” asked Peter, in a confidential tone.
”That young chap, Winthrope, seems to have the way to her door all to himself,” responded the gloomy one.
”Who did you say?”
”Winthrope.”
”I told you to get him out of the way.”
”Well?”
”Well?”
”He can't be got out so easy,” cried Monroe, with asperity. ”He's an immovable, unapproachable, indefinable young cuss, who can't be inveigled.”
”Have you given it up?”
”Oh, not yet.”
”What you leading up to now?” asked Peter.
”To have the boss send him to the New York office.”
”Will he send him?”
”He may.”
”Say,” said Peter, whisperingly, with an idea, ”get him in the bribing line, and then let him drop.”
”He's beyond that,” said the undaunted Monroe. ”We are going to send him to New York; give him authority to handle money, and lay our net to catch him. This can be done. We will work it so slick, with Bate Yenger as his a.s.sistant, that he can't crawl out; and we'll keep the money for our trouble.”
”Good!” said Peter, forgetting himself and rubbing this time. ”Go on?”
”That's all.”
”Humph;” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Peter. ”You are a genuine dough-G.o.d!”
”You bear!” scowled Monroe--that is, he tried to scowl.
”You unplastic scoundrel,” shouted Peter, turning on him, ”if you don't get him out of the way, and get that girl, I'll get your job away from you!”
”Oh, no more of your jollying,” said the putty-faced Monroe; ”get down to business. How much do I get out of the swag I get with the girl?”
”Half,” replied Peter.