The Early Bird | Page 3

fully upon her, giving her the same swift
scrutiny and appraisement that he had the father. He was evidently
highly satisfied with what he saw, for he kept looking at it as much as
he dared. He became aware after a moment or so that Mr. Stevens was
saying something to him. He never did get all of it, but he got this
much:

"--so you'd be rather a good man to watch, wherever you go."
"I hope so," agreed the other briskly. "If I want anything, I go prepared
to grab it the minute I find that it suits me."
"Do you always get everything you want?" asked the young lady.
"Always," he answered her very earnestly, and looked her in the eyes
so speculatively, albeit unconsciously so, that she found herself battling
with a tendency to grow pink.
Her father nodded in approval.
"That's the way to get things," he said. "What are you after now? More
lumber?"
"Rest," declared Mr. Turner with vigorous emphasis. "I've worked like
a nailer ever since I turned out of high school. I had to make the living
for the family, and I sent my kid brother through college. He's just been
out a year and it's a wonder the way he takes hold. But do you know
that in all those times since I left school I never took a lay-off until just
this minute? It feels glorious already. It's fine to look around this good
stretch of green country and breathe this fresh air and look at those hills
over yonder, and to realize that I don't have to think of business for two
solid weeks. Just absolute rest, for me! I don't intend to talk one
syllable of shop while I'm here. Hello! there's another clump of walnut
trees. It's a pity they're scattered so that it isn't worth while to buy them
up."
The girl laughed, a little silvery laugh which made any memory of
grand opera seem harsh and jangling. Both men turned to her in
surprise. Neither of them could see any cause for mirth in all the fields
or sky.
"I beg your pardon for being so silly," she said; "but I just thought of
something funny."
"Tell it to us," urged Mr. Turner. "I've never taken the time I ought to

enjoy funny things, and I might as well begin right now."
But she shook her head, and in some way he acquired an impression
that she was amused at him. His brows gathered a trifle. If the young
lady intended to make sport of him he would take her down a peg or
two. He would find her point of susceptibility to ridicule, and hammer
upon it until she cried enough. That was his way to make men
respectful, and it ought to work with women.
When they let him out at Meadow Brook, Mr. Stevens was kind enough
to ask him to drop over to Hollis Creek. Mr. Turner, with impulsive
alacrity, promised that he would.
CHAPTER II
WHEREIN MR. TURNER PLUNGES INTO THE BUSINESS OF
RESTING
At Meadow Brook Sam Turner found W. W. Westlake, of the Westlake
Electric Company, a big, placid man with a mild gray eye and an
appearance of well-fed and kindly laziness; a man also who had the
record of having ruthlessly smashed more business competitors than
any two other pirates in his line. Westlake, unclasping his fat hands
from his comfortable rotundity, was glad to see young Turner, also glad
to introduce the new eligible to his daughter, a girl of twenty-two,
working might and main to reduce a threatened inheritance of
embonpoint. Mr. Turner was charmed to meet Miss Westlake, and even
more pleased to meet the gentleman who was with her, young
Princeman, a brisk paper manufacturer variously quoted at from one to
two million. He knew all about young Princeman; in fact, had him upon
his mental list as a man presently to meet and cultivate for a specific
purpose, and already Mr. Turner's busy mind offset the expenses of this
trip with an equal credit, much in the form of "By introduction to H. L.
Princeman, Jr. (Princeman and Son Paper Mills, AA 1), whatever it
costs." He liked young Princeman at sight, too, and, proceeding directly
to the matter uppermost in his thoughts, immediately asked him how
the new tariff had affected his business.

"It's inconvenient," said Princeman with a shake of his head. "Of course,
in the end the consumers must pay, but they protest so much about it
that they disarrange the steady course of our operations."
"It's queer that the ultimate consumer never will be quite reconciled to
his fate," laughed Mr. Turner; "but in this particular case, I think I hold
the solution. You'll be interested, I know. You