this inspired in them, to become jealous and suspicious of him in another way. For, after all, Clyde was not one of them, and under such circumstances could not be. He might smile and be civil enough — yet he would always be in touch with those who were above them, would he not — or so they thought. He was, as they saw it, part of the rich and superior class and every poor man knew what that meant. The poor must stand together everywhere.
For his part, however, and sitting about for the first few days in this particular room eating his lunch, he wondered how these men could interest themselves in what were to him such dull and uninteresting items — the quality of the cloth that was coming down in the webs — some minute flaws in the matter of weight or weave — the last twenty webs hadn’t looked so closely shrunk as the preceding sixteen; or the Cranston Wickwire Company was not carrying as many men as it had the month before — or the Anthony Woodenware Company had posted a notice that the Saturday half- holiday would not begin before June first this year as opposed to the middle of May last year. They all appeared to be lost in the humdrum and routine of their work.
In consequence his mind went back to happier scenes. He wished at times he were back in Chicago or Kansas City. He though of Ratterer, Hegglund, Higby, Louise Ratterer, Larry Doyle, Mr. Squires, Hortense — all of the young and thoughtless company of which he had been a part, and wondered what they were doing. What had become of Hortense? She had got that fur coat after all — probably from that cigar clerk and then had gone away with him after she had protested so much feeling for him — the little beast. After she had gotten all that money out of him. The mere thought of her and all that she might have meant to him if things had not turned as they had, made him a little sick at times. To whom was she being nice now? How had she found things since leaving Kansas City? And what would she think if she saw him here now or knew of his present high connections? Gee! That would cool her a little. But she would not think much of his present position. That was true. But she might respect him more if she could see his uncle and his cousin and this factory and their big house. It would be like her then to try to be nice to him. Well, he would show her, if he ever ran into her again — snub her, of course, as no doubt he very well could by then.
Chapter 7
In so far as his life at Mrs. Cuppy’s went, he was not so very happily placed there, either. For that was but a commonplace rooming and boarding house, which drew to it, at best, such conservative mill and business types as looked on work and their wages, and the notions of the middle class religious world of Lycurgus as most essential to the order and well being of the world. From the point of view of entertainment or gayety, it was in the main a very dull place.
At the same time, because of the presence of one Walter Dillard — a brainless sprig who had recently come here from Fonda, it was not wholly devoid of interest for Clyde. The latter — a youth of about Clyde’s own age and equally ambitious socially — but without Clyde’s tact or discrimination anent the governing facts of life, was connected with the men’s furnishing department of Stark and Company. He was spry, avid, attractive enough physically, with very light hair, a very light and feeble mustache, and the delicate airs and ways of a small town Beau Brummell. Never having had any social standing or the use of any means whatsoever — his father having been a small town dry goods merchant before him, who had failed — he was, because of some atavistic spur or fillip in his own blood, most anxious to attain some sort of social position.
But failing that so far, he was interested in and envious of those who had it — much more so than Clyde, even. The glory and activity of the leading families of this particular city had enormous weight with him — the Nicholsons, the Starks, the Harriets, Griffiths, Finchleys, et cetera. And learning a few days after Clyde’s arrival of his somewhat left-handed connection with this world, he was most definitely interested. What? A Griffiths! The nephew of the rich Samuel Griffiths of Lycurgus! And in this boarding house! Beside him at this table! At once his interest rose to where he decided that he must cultivate this stranger as speedily as possible. Here was a real social opportunity knocking at his very door — a connecting link to one of the very best families! And besides was he not young, attractive and probably ambitious like himself — a fellow to play around with if one could? He proceeded at once to make overtures to Clyde. It seemed almost too good to be true.
In consequence he was quick to suggest a walk, the fact that there was a certain movie just on at the Mohawk, which was excellent — very snappy. Didn’t Clyde want to go? And because of his neatness, smartness — a touch of something that was far from humdrum or the heavy practicality of the mill and the remainder of this boarding house world, Clyde was inclined to fall in with him.
But, as he now thought, here were his great relatives and he must watch his step here. Who knew but that he might be making a great mistake in holding such free and easy contacts as this. The Griffiths — as well as the entire world of which they were a part — as he guessed from the general manner of all those who even contacted him, must be very removed from the commonalty here. More by instinct than reason, he was inclined to stand off and look very superior — more so since those, including this very youth on whom he practised this seemed to respect him the more. And although upon eager — and even — after its fashion, supplicating request, he now went with this youth — still he went cautiously. And his aloof and condescending manner Dillard at once translated as “class” and “connection.” And to think he had met him in this dull, dubby boarding house here. And on his arrival — at the very inception of his career here.
And so his manner was that of the sycophant — although he had a better position and was earning more money than Clyde was at this time, twenty-two dollars a week.
“I suppose you’ll be spending a good deal of your time with your relatives and friends here,” he volunteered on the occasion of their first walk together, and after he had extracted as much information as Clyde cared to impart, which was almost nothing, while he volunteered a few, most decidedly furbished bits from his own history. His father owned a dry goods store NOW. He had come over here to study other methods, et cetera. He had an uncle here — connected with Stark and Company. He had met a few — not so many as yet — nice people here, since he hadn’t been here so very long himself — four months all told.
But Clyde’s relatives!
“Say your uncle must be worth over a million, isn’t he? They say he is. Those houses in Wykeagy Avenue are certainly the cats’. You won’t see anything finer in Albany or Utica or Rochester either. Are you Samuel Griffiths’ own nephew? You don’t say! Well, that’ll certainly mean a lot to you here. I wish I had a connection like that. You bet I’d make it count.”
He beamed on Clyde eagerly and hopefully, and through him Clyde sensed even more how really important this blood relation was. Only think how much it meant to this strange youth.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Clyde dubiously, and yet very much flattered by this assumption of intimacy. “I came on to learn the collar business, you know. Not to play about very much. My uncle wants me to stick to that, pretty much.”
“Sure, sure. I know how that is,” replied Dillard, “that’s the way my uncle feels about me, too. He wants me to stick close to the work here and not play about very much. He’s the buyer for Stark and Company, you know. But still a man can’t work all the time, either. He’s got to have a little fun.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Clyde — for the first time in his life a little condescendingly.
They walked along in silence for a few moments. Then:
“Do you dance?”
“Yes,”
