Evening Star Newspaper, March 13, 1932, Page 78

Ellis Parker Butler Illustrated by Dorothy Urfer. T 9:30 Betty Burford, curled up on the davenport with a book, yawned, patting her pretty mouth with her fingers. “I think I'll go up now, Aunt Flo,” she said, and she kissed her Grand-aunt Florence. She put an arm around her gruff old Grand-uncle Henry's neck and bent down and kissed him also. “Good night, sweetheart,” he said. In the three months Betty had been with them she had crept deep into the heart of the taciturn old manufacurer of the Burford Os- cillating Reciprocator. Betty gave him an- other kiss and went up to her room. Several times, after Betty had gone, Mrs. Burford glanced up from her book and at her husband. She was rather an invalid and sel- dom out of the house. “Henry,” she said presently. “Well, what is it?” Henry asked, *“About Betty. I don't know what to do about Betty.” “What's the matter with her?” asked Mr. Burford. “She locks all right to me. She’s not sick, is she? If she's sick, get a doctor.” “She’s not sick, Henry,” said Mrs. Burford. “Still mourning over her father’s death, is she?” “No, she has recovered from that. But it’s dull for her here. She never sees a young man.” “What young man?” asked Mr, Burford. “Any young man,” Mrs. Burford replied. “She sees no young men at all, and every girl is entitled to see young men—it is one of youth's rights. It is not fair that Betty should see no young men.” “All right, let her see some,” said Mr. Bur- ford. “Don't keep them away on my actount. Let her sze a thousand.” “Henry, please! I don’t often bother you with home matters, but I don’t know what to do. We've asked Betty to live with us and we should do all we can for her. A mother would see that Betty met young men, but I don’t know any. I never get out, “Henry, isn't there some young man in your office—som= nice young man—who would come here to dinner and meet Betty?” “No,” said Mr. Burford. “They're old fel- Jows, all of them.” ND then Mr. Burford, looking at his wife, saw she was weeping. “Now, please don't!” he sald more gently. “Don't pet all worked up about it. That's the trouble with you women, you take everything emotionally. I'll get a young man for you. Tl have one up here for Betty to play around with day after tomorrow.” “Henry! You are wonderful!” “No, I'm not!” said Mr. Burford, picking up his newspaper. “I'm & businessman, that’s all, and when I go at a thing I go at it as a busi- ness. If you want a refrigerator I don't weep sbout it—I get it; and if you want a young man for Betty to play with, I don't weep—I get one.” In her room Betty was reading a letter that #he had read more than once. It was from a young man named William Henry Carver of the town of Bextonville, Ohio, where Betty had been born and where she had lived until hey father died. The letter began: “Dearest Dare lingest Betty——" “And so I've chucked my job with Bex- tonville Wheel Co.” part of the mid, THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., MARCH 13, 1932 A BIG DFAL ¢ 3 < “a~d since you're go.ng to live in De- troit I'm going to look for a job there, I'll get one, don't you worry, and when I do I'll be on your doorstep the first evening. And if it is a good enough job, honey dear, we’ll be married and no mistake, about that.” “Dear Billy!” said Betty, and she kissed the letter, and in 20 minutes she was aslezp and dreaming of Billy. In her dreams she was less happy. She dreamed of poor defenseless Billy wandering the streets while a huge black crow—the great depression—fluttered over him, gobbling up every job just as Billy was about to grasp it. Jobs, she had heard Mr, Burford say, were not easily had. In the library below Henry Burford was sit- ting with a frown on his brow, letting his effi- cient business mind consider the matter of a young man for Betty. In half an hour he had solved the problem in a clean and snappy busi- ness manner and he took up his newspaper again. The next morning at 9 o'clock Mr. Burford walked into his private office and jiggled his telephone hook up and down. “Get Joe Bliss on the wire for me,” he said into the mouthpiece. “Yes, Joe Bliss of the Bliss Cast Steel Co. And hurry up about it. Don't be all day!” When connection with the Bliss factory was made Mr. Burford, one elbow on his desk, spoke to Joe Bliss himself. The Bliss fac- tory was at Lansing. “You, Joe?” he asked, “This is Henry Bur- ford; I want you to come up here to my fac- tory as fast as you can make it. I want to talk oscillator frames with you. Hurry it!” “I'll break every speed law that was ever made,” said Joe Bliss, and he did. 11 CIT down,” said Mr. Burford when the cast steel man entered his office. “If it is that contract for frames,” said Joe Bliss, “I'll say right now that I can’t cut the price one cent. FPifteen dollars for each frame, plerced and painted, is my lowest!” “Don’t talk so much,” said Mr. Burford. “Do you want that contract, or don't you?” “Of course, I want it.” “Then it is yours. You can have it,” said Mr. Burford. “Henry,” said Joe Bliss, “This is sure one red-letter day for me. That contract means I won't have to let one man go, no matter how hanliu times are, for a year. Henry, I thank “Hold on! Not so fast!” said Mr. Burford. “There’'s a catch in this coniract business. There's a proviso. You haven't got the con- tract signed yet. You've got to sell it to me first, Joe.” “I can sell you in 10 minutes.” declared Bliss. “No, you can't!” said Mr. Burford. “You can't you show me anything. I won't listen to an old fellow like you. I'm a tough nut, and it is going to take a young fellow to crack me open. That's the catch in this business. “Who've you got on your staff that can come and sell me? What young fellow have you got —some lad about 22 to 25 years old—nice respectable fellow? A college boy, say? He's got to be a fellow who can spend an hour or s0 playing around with one of the finest girls in the world. Who've you got, Joe?” Joe Bliss stared at Mr. Burford in complete amazement. i “Don’t gawp at me,” said Mr. Burford. “T'll tell you what I mean. I've got a grand- niece up at the house, the nicest girl you ever saw, Joe, and my wife says the girl is bored. My wife says the girl needs a young man to talk to, and that sort of thing. Well, I'm get- ting her a young man fo talk to. That’s all. A plain business proposition, Joe, handled in & plain business way. “This young fellow comes to sell me 20,000 oscillator frames, pierced and painted, and he has a hard job of it. I tell him I'm too busy to talk in my office and tell him to come up to the house and talk to me—TI'll invite him to dinner.” “I get you!” grinned Joe Bliss. “And you tell the young fellow,” said Mr. Burford, “that I'm a mighty tough old nut to crack. You tell him I'm as hard as nalls, that I have a hide as tough as a rhinoceros, but that I do have one weak spot.” “The girl,” said Jee Bliss. “You guessed it—the girl,” agreed Mr. Bur- ford. “You tell him the way to get at me is to play up to the girl—show her a good time, and 50 on. “Lend him a car. Give him some expense money for ice a'ean;w and A::“:n :m '1;?:" they spend money for. o bue::rmhehuurmdmnehhnmekon the job.” “The only trouble is,” said Joe Bliss, “I'm not sure anybody on my staff quite meets your Specifications.” “Well,” said Mr. Burford, “get somebody.” his business of love is just that---business “And I get the contract, Henry?” Joe Bliss asked. “I said so. You can begin making my frames tomorrow.” “Your word is good,” said Bliss. use your phone?” “There it is,” said Mr. Burford. He paid no more attention to Joe Bliss. Joe Bliss got the factory’s telephone operator and asked to be given the Expert Help Agency, than which there was no better in Detroit. “May I VI"THIS is Joe Bliss of Lansing,” he said when he had his connection. “I want a young man, college man prefered, good-lookng, along about 22 to 25 years—a young fellow I'd be willing to have come to my house and meet my family. “Have you got anybody? Ten or twelve, have you? No—no experience in business necessary. All right; have them see me at my factory tomorrow morning.” That evening again Betty retired early. There was nothing else to do. When she had gone upstairs Mr. Burford turned to his wife and beamed proudly at her. “There will be a young man out here for dinner tomorrow evening,” he said. “A young man!” Mrs. Burford exclaimed. “Henry, do you mean it! So soon?” “So soon?” said Mr. Burford. “I don't know what you mean by ‘so soon.” There’s nothing to be surprised about. Simple business proce- dure, that’s all.” “Is he a nice young man?” asked Mrs. Bur- ford. “I placed my order for that kind,” said Mr. Burford, “and I get what I want.” “Won't it be rather—I mean, Henry, if you did just-order a young man to come and be pleasant to Betty, won't it be all rather obvious and—well—" “No, it won't,” said Mr. Burford. “I don’t do business that way. The young fellow won't know he's coming here because we want some one to play around with Betty. He’ll think he is playing around with Betty because he wants to see me.” Mrs. Burford thought this over, but she could find no sense in it. She sighed. “I never could understand business,” she said. Mrs. Burford tried not to worry about it, but it was, of course, necessary to tell Betty that a young man was coming to dinner. Mrs. Bur- ford told her the next morning. “Betty,” she said, “your Uncle Henry is having a young man for dinner this evening.” “Is he?” Betty asked, without much interest, which rather surprised Mrs. Burford. “Who is he?” “He is a business acquaintance, I believe,” said Mrs. Burford. “I think your uncle hoped you would find him interesting.” *I don’t believe I'd find any young men very interesting, Aunty,” Betty said. “I'm practi- cally off young men, as you might say. I'll be nice to him, certainly, but I hope Uncle Henry does not expect me to enthuse over the gentle- man. I haven't the glightest possible interest in young men for enthusiasm purposes, really.” “No,” said Mrs. Burford. “No, certainly not, Betty. But I think—I'm quite sure—that your uncle does hope you will be nice as you can to this young man.” “Aunt Sarah, what do you mean?” Betly asked, looking full at her aunt’s face. “Aunt Sarah, is Uncle Henry asking a young man here just because of me? He is! I know he is! You dear, your face can't hide a thing! Why, you darling, you've been thinking I've been lonely here!” I"QETTY,” said Mrs. Burford, with something that was almost fright, “you’ll not let your uncle know you guessed? I did speak to him about you; I did think you might like to have a young man here now and then. And Henry will be so upset if he has been efficient and finds his efficiency was not wanted. You will be nice to the young man, won't you, Betty?” Betty laughed. “Of course I will, Aunt Sarah,” she said. “I'll pretend I'm as pleased as Punch. We'll never let Uncle Henry know we're not delighted with his young man, but shall I tell you something, Aunt Sarah? I'm engaged to one perfectly good young man now.” “Betty!"” “Yes. I didn't tell you because we can’'t be married for a long while. He has to find a splendid job, and he hasn’t one of that sort now. He's a boy I've known all my life, Aunt Sarah—a Bextonville boy—and we're awfully in love. 8o, of course, other young men don’t mean so very much to me, do they?” The telephone bell rang while Mrs. Burford was still kissing Betty, and Mrs. Burford went to answer it. It was Uncle Henry. “Sarah,” he said, “there will be several par- cels delivered at the house today. You will please open them. There's a ping-pong set—" “A what?” asked Mrs. Burford. “Ping-pong!” shouted Mr. Burford. “A ping-pong set. It’s a game. Everybody is play- ing it, There’s a table for it, a big table in two 7 | Betty came down the stairs arrayed té perfection. She knew she looked ag beautiful as ever she would. She heard Uncle Henry say, “This is the young man I telephoned was coming out to dinner.” sections. And there’s a backgammon sSet. And, Sarah—" “Yes, Henry?” “There’ll be a man up there—perhaps two of them—with a radio outfit.” Betty giggled. - “I'm evidently going to embark on quite & career of gaiety,” she told Mrs. Burford, but she took the matter seriously enough to take extra pains with her toilet that evening. Betty, warned that Uncle Henry and the young man would arrive soon after six, came down the stairs arrayed to perfection. She knew she looked as beautiful as ever she would. She was standing at the living room table when she heard her Grand-Uncle Henry's key in the door and the gentle cough of her Grand-Aunt Sarah as she went to the door. “Sarah,” she heard Uncle E nry say, “this is the young man I telephoned was coming out to dinner. Mr. Carver, this is my wife.” “How do you do?” said William Henry Carver, and Betty’s head popped up. She dropped her magazine, flew to the door, and her arms went around William Henry Carver's neck, and his @sound her. “Oh, Bill, Bill, Bill!” she cried. “You've got & job! You darling, darling, you've got a job™ “Welli” exclaimed Mrs. Burford. “Well, I declare!” exclaimed Grand-Uncle mmy' ceedingl were ex ngly surprised, amnd wonder. Anyone would have been, - Thoughtful of Her “Are you the plumber?” “Yes, mum.” “Well, see that you exercise care when doing your work. All my floors are highly polished and in excellent condition.” “Oh, don’t worry about me slippin’, mum, T've got nalls in me boots.”