The Go-Getter | Page 6

of back-fire I can think of
to put the Wobblies on the run."
"Every office and ship and retail yard could be run by a first-sergeant," Skinner
complained. "I'm thinking of having reveille and retreat and bugle calls and Saturday
morning inspections. I tell you, sir, the Ricks interests have absorbed all the old soldiers
possible and at the present moment those interests are overflowing with glory. What we
want are workers, not talkers. These ex-soldiers spend too much time fighting their
battles over again."
"Well, Comrade Peck is the last one I'll ask you to absorb, Skinner," Cappy promised
contritely. "Ever read Kipling's Barrack Room Ballads, Skinner?"
"I have no time to read," Mr. Skinner protested.
"Go up town this minute and buy a copy and read one ballad entitled 'Tommy,'" Cappy
barked. "For the good of your immortal soul," he added.
"Well, Comrade Peck doesn't make a hit with me, Mr. Ricks. He applied to me for a job
and I gave him his answer. Then he went to Captain Matt and was refused, so, just to
demonstrate his bad taste, he went over our heads and induced you to pitchfork him into a
job. He'll curse the day he was inspired to do that."
"Skinner! Skinner! Look me in the eye! Do you know why I asked you to take on Bill
Peck?"
"I do. Because you're too tender-hearted for your own good."
"You unimaginative dunderhead! You jibbering jackdaw! How could I reject a boy who
simply would not be rejected? Why, I'll bet a ripe peach that Bill Peck was one of the
doggondest finest soldiers you ever saw. He carries his objective. He sized you up just
like that, Skinner. He declined to permit you to block him. Skinner, that Peck person has
been opposed by experts. Yes, sir--experts! What kind of a job are you going to give him,
Skinner, my dear boy?"
"Andrews' job, of course."
"Oh, yes, I forgot. Skinner, dear boy, haven't we got about half a million feet of skunk
spruce to saw off on somebody?" Mr. Skinner nodded and Cappy continued with all the

naïve eagerness of one who has just made a marvelous discovery, which he is confident
will revolutionize science. "Give him that stinking stuff to peddle, Skinner, and if you can
dig up a couple of dozen carloads of red fir or bull pine in transit, or some short or
odd-length stock, or some larch ceiling or flooring, or some hemlock random stock--in
fact, anything the trade doesn't want as a gift--you get me, don't you, Skinner?"
Mr. Skinner smiled his swordfish smile. "And if he fails to make good--au revoir, eh?"
"Yes, I suppose so, although I hate to think about it. On the other hand, if he makes good
he's to have Andrews' salary. We must be fair, Skinner. Whatever our faults we must
always be fair." He rose and patted the general manager's lean shoulder. "There, there,
Skinner, my boy. Forgive me if I've been a trifle--ah--ahem!--precipitate
and--er--harumph-h-h! Skinner, if you put a prohibitive price on that skunk fir, by the
Holy Pink-toed Prophet, I'll fire you! Be fair, boy, be fair. No dirty work, Skinner.
Remember, Comrade Peck has half of his left forearm buried in France."
* * * * *
III
At twelve-thirty, as Cappy was hurrying up California Street to luncheon at the
Commercial Club, he met Bill Peck limping down the sidewalk. The ex-soldier stopped
him and handed him a card.
"What do you think of that, sir?" he queried. "Isn't it a neat business card?"
Cappy read:
+---------------------------------------------------+ | RICKS LUMBER & LOGGING
COMPANY | | Lumber and its products | | 248 California St. | | San Francisco. | | | |
Represented by | | William E. Peck | | If you can drive nails in it--we have it! |
+---------------------------------------------------+
Cappy Ricks ran a speculative thumb over Comrade Peck's business card. It was
engraved. And copper plates or steel dies are not made in half an hour!
"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" This was Cappy's most terrible oath and he never
employed it unless rocked to his very foundations. "Bill, as one bandit to another--come
clean. When did you first make up your mind to go to work for us?"
"A week ago," Comrade Peck replied blandly.
"And what was your grade when Kaiser Bill went A.W.O.L.?"
"I was a buck."
"I don't believe you. Didn't anybody ever offer you something better?"

"Frequently. However, if I had accepted I would have had to resign the nicest job I ever
had. There wasn't much money in it, but it was filled with excitement and interesting
experiments. I used to disguise myself as a Christmas tree or a box car and pick off
German sharp-shooters. I was known