Part 11 (1/2)
”I'll tell you later, Marty.”
”Not--lost your nerve? The fire?”
Joe laughed softly.
”Other reasons--Marty.”
”Retire?” Marty's appet.i.te was spoiled. He pushed the veal cutlet from him. He was greatly agitated. ”Retire--_you_? I can see you doing nothing, blamed if I can't. Gettin' sporty, Joe, in your old age, aren't you? You'll be wearing one of these dress-suits next and a flasher in yer chest. Huh!” he snorted, ”you'd make a good one on the shelf!”
Joe laughed with joy.
”With my flunkies and my handmaids. No, Marty, I'm going into another business.”
”What business?”
”Editing a magazine.”
”And what do you know about editing a magazine?”
”What do most of the editors know?” queried Joe. ”You don't have to know anything. Everybody's editing magazines nowadays.”
”A magazine!” Marty was disgusted. ”You're falling pretty low, Joe. Why don't you stick to an honest business? Gos.h.!.+ you'd make a queer fist editing a magazine!”
Joe was delighted.
”Well, there are reasons, Marty.”
”What reasons?”
So Joe in a shaking voice unfolded his philosophy, and as he did so Marty became dazed and aghast, gazing at his boss as if Joe had turned into some unthinkable zoological oddity. Into Marty's prim-set life, with its definite boundaries and unmysterious exactness, was poured a vapor of lunacy. Finally Joe wound up with:
”So you see I've got to do what little I can to help straighten things.
You see, Marty? Now, what do you think of it? Give me your honest opinion.”
Marty spoke sharply:
”You want to know what I really think?”
”Every word of it!”
”Now see here, Joe,” Marty burst out, ”you and I grew up in the business together, and we know each other well enough to speak out, even if you are my boss, don't we?”
”We do, Marty!”
Marty leaned over.
”Joe, I think you're a blamed idiot!”
Joe laughed.