Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER VI

  A GOOD START

  At an early breakfast next morning Patsy announced the program for theday.

  "Uncle John and I will drive over to the village," she said, "andperhaps we'll be gone all day. Don't worry if we're not back forluncheon. Louise and Mr. Watson are going in the phaeton to visit someof the near-by farmers. Take one road, dear, and follow it straightalong, as far as it keeps within our legislative district, and visitevery farm-house on the way."

  "The farmers will all be busy in the fields," said Kenneth.

  "Louise doesn't care about the farmers," retorted Patsy. "She's going totalk to their wives."

  "Wives don't vote, Patsy."

  "They tell their husbands how to vote, though," declared Louise, with alaugh. "Let me win the women and I'll win the men."

  "What am I to do?" asked Beth.

  "You're to stay at home and write several articles for the newspapers.There are seven important papers in our district, and five of them areRepublican. Make a strong argument, Beth. You're our publicitydepartment. Also get up copy for some hand-hills and circular letters. Iwant to get a circular letter to every voter in the district."

  "All right," said Beth. "I know what you want."

  There was an inspiring air of business about these preparations, and thegirls were all eager to begin work. Scarcely was breakfast finished whenthe two equipages were at the door. Louise and Mr. Watson at onceentered the phaeton and drove away, the girl delighted at the prospectof visiting the farmers' wives and winning them by her plausiblespeeches. Conversation was Louise's strong point. She loved to talk andargue, and her manner was so confiding and gracious that she seldomfailed to interest her listeners.

  Patsy and Uncle John drove away. In Kenneth's buggy to the town, andduring the five-mile drive Patsy counseled gravely with her shrewd unclein regard to "ways and means."

  "This thing requires prompt action, Patsy," he said, "and if we're goingto do things that count they've got to be done on a big scale."

  "True," she admitted. "But oughtn't we to be a little careful aboutspending Kenneth's money?"

  "I'll be your temporary banker," said the old gentleman, "and keep trackof the accounts. If we win we'll present Kenneth our bill, and if wefail I'll have the satisfaction of getting rid of some of that dreadfulincome that is swamping me."

  This was always Uncle John's cry. His enormous fortune was a constantbugbear to him. He had been so interested in his business enterprisesfor many years that he had failed to realize how his fortune wasgrowing, and it astounded him to wake up one day and find himselfpossessed of many millions. He had at once retired from active businessand invested his millions in ways that would cause him the leastannoyance; but the income on so large a sum was more than he could takecare of, and even Major Doyle, who managed these affairs for hisbrother-in-law, was often puzzled to know what to do with the money thataccumulated.

  Doubtless no one will ever know how much good these two kindly menaccomplished between them in their quiet, secretive way. Dozens ofdeserving young men were furnished capital to start them in business;dozens more were being educated at universities at Uncle John's expense.Managers of worthy charities were familiar with John Merrick's signatureon checks, and yet the vast fortune grew with leaps and bounds. Mr.Merrick's life was so simple and unostentatious that his personalexpenses, however erratic some of his actions, could not make muchheadway against his interest account, and nothing delighted him morethan to find a way to "get even with fate by reckless squandering," ashe quaintly expressed it. He was far too shrewd to become the prey ofdesigning people, but welcomed any legitimate channel in which to unloadhis surplus.

  So Mr. Merrick had been revolving the possibilities of this uniquepolitical campaign in his mind, and had decided to do some things thatwould open the bucolic eyes of Kenneth's constituents in wonder. He didnot confide all his schemes to Patsy, but having urged his nieces toattempt this conquest he had no intention of allowing them to sufferdefeat if he could help it.

  The little town of Elmwood was quiet and practically deserted when theydrove into it. The farmers were too busy with the harvest to "come totown for trading" except on Saturdays, and the arrival and departure ofthe two daily trains did not cause more than a ripple of excitement inthe village.

  Patsy decided she would shop at each and every store in the place, andengage the store-keepers in conversation about the election.

  "It's important to win these people," she declared, "because they areclose to every farmer who comes to town to trade; and their own votescount, too."

  "I'll run over to the bank," said Uncle John, "and get acquaintedthere."

  So he tied the horses to a post and let Patsy proceed alone upon hermission, while he wandered over to a little brick building of neatappearance which bore the inscription "Bank" in gold letters on itsplate-glass window.

  "Mr. Warren in?" he asked the clerk at the window.

  The banker, a dignified old gentleman of considerable ability, came outof his private office and greeted his visitor very cordially. He hadknown Uncle John when the millionaire visited Elmhurst two years before,and since then had learned more particulars concerning him. So there wasno need of an introduction, and Mr. Warren was delighted at the prospectof business relations with this famous personage.

  The bank, although small and only one story high, was the most modernand imposing building in the village; and it was fitted with modernconveniences, for Mr. Warren had been successful and prosperous. In hisprivate office were local and long distance telephones, a directconnection with the telegraph operator at the station, and otherfacilities for accomplishing business promptly. Uncle John hadremembered this fact, and it had a prominent place in his plans.

  He followed the banker into his private office and told him briefly hisintention to forward the interests of his young friend Kenneth Forbesfor Member of the Legislature.

  The old gentleman shook his head, at first, predicting failure. YoungForbes was his most important customer, and he respected him highly; butthis anti-sign issue bade fair to ruin all his chances.

  "The idea is too progressive and advanced to be considered at thistime," he stated, positively. "The encroachments of advertisers onpersonal property may lead to a revolt in the future, but it is stilltoo early to direct popular opinion against them."

  "Isn't Forbes a better man for the place than Hopkins?" asked UncleJohn.

  "Undoubtedly, sir. And I think Forbes would have won, had not Hopkinsforced this unfortunate issue upon him. As it is, our young friendcannot avoid the consequences of his quixotic action."

  "He doesn't wish to avoid them," was the quiet reply. "We're going towin on that issue or not at all."

  "I'm afraid it's hopeless, sir."

  "May I count on your assistance?"

  "In every way."

  "Thank you, Mr. Warren, I'm going to spend a lot of money. Put thisdraft for fifty thousand to my credit as a starter."

  "Ah, I begin to understand. But--"

  "You don't understand at all, yet. May I use your long distancetelephone?"

  "Of course, sir."

  Uncle John had secured considerable information from Mr. Watson, andthis enabled him to act comprehensively. The advertising sign businessin this part of the state was controlled by two firms, who contracteddirectly with the advertisers and then had the signs painted upon spacessecured from the farmers by their wide-awake agents. These signs werecontracted for by the year, but the firms controlling the spaces alwaysinserted protective clauses that provided for the removal of any signwhen certain conditions required such removal. In such cases a rebatewas allowed to the advertiser. This protective clause was absolutelynecessary in case of fire, alteration or removal of buildings ordestruction of fences and sign-boards by weather or the requirements ofthe owners. It was this saving clause in the contracts of which UncleJohn had decided to take advantage. The contracting sign painters weremerely in the business to make money.


  Mr. Merrick got the head of the concern in Cleveland over the telephonewithin half an hour. He talked with the man at length, and talked withthe convincing effect that the mention of money has. When he hung up thereceiver Uncle John was smiling. Then he called for the Chicago firm.With this second advertising company he met with more difficulties, andMr. Warren had to come to the telephone and assure the man that Mr.Merrick was able to pay all he agreed to, and that the money was ondeposit in his bank. That enabled Mr. Merrick to conclude hisarrangements. He knew that he was being robbed, but the co-operation ofthe big Chicago firm was necessary to his plans.

  Then, the telephone having served its purpose, Mr. Warren took UncleJohn across the street to the newspaper office and introduced him toCharley Briggs, the editor.

  Briggs was a man with one eye, a sallow complexion and sandy hair thatstuck straight up from his head. He set type for his paper, besidesediting it, and Uncle John found him wearing a much soiled apron, withhis bare arms and fingers smeared with printer's ink.

  "Mr. Merrick wants to see you on business, Charley," said the banker."Whatever he agrees to I will guarantee, to the full resources of mybank."

  The editor pricked up his ears and dusted a chair for his visitor withhis apron. It wasn't easy to make a living running a paper in Elmwood,and if there was any business pending he was anxious to secure it.

  Uncle John waited until Mr. Warren had left him alone with the newspaperman. Then he said:

  "I understand your paper is Democratic, Mr. Briggs."

  "That's a mistake, sir," replied the editor, evasively. "The _Herald_ isreally independent, but in political campaigns we adopt the side weconsider the most deserving of support."

  "You're supporting Hopkins just now."

  "Only mildly; only mildly, sir."

  "What is he paying you?"

  "Why, 'Rast and I haven't come to a definite settlement yet. I ought toget a hundred dollars out of this campaign, but 'Rast thinks fifty isenough. You see, he plans on my support anyhow, and don't like to spendmore than he's obliged to."

  "Why does he plan on your support?"

  "He's the only live one in the game, Mr. Merrick. 'Rast is one ofus--he's one of the people--and it's policy for me to support himinstead of the icicle up at Elmhurst, who don't need the job and don'tcare whether he gets it or not."

  "Is that true?"

  "I think so. And there's another thing. Young Forbes is dead againstadvertising, and advertising is the life of a newspaper. Why, thereisn't a paper in the district that's supporting Forbes this year."

  "You've a wrong idea of the campaign, Mr. Briggs," said Uncle John. "Itis because Mr. Forbes believes in newspaper advertising, and wants toprotect it, that he's against these signs. That's one reason, anyhow.Can't you understand that every dollar spent for painting signs takesthat much away from your newspapers?"

  "Why, perhaps there's something in that, Mr. Merrick. I'd never lookedat it that way before."

  "Now, see here, Mr. Briggs. I'll make you a proposition. I'll give youtwo hundred and fifty to support Mr. Forbes in this campaign, and ifhe's elected I'll give you five hundred extra."

  "Do you mean that, sir?" asked the editor, scarcely able to believe theevidence of his ears.

  "I do. Draw up a contract and I'll sign it. And here's a check for yourtwo-fifty in advance."

  The editor drew up the agreement with a pen that trembled a little.

  "And now," said Uncle John, "get busy and hustle for Kenneth Forbes."

  "I will, sir," said Briggs, with unexpected energy. "I mean to win thatextra five hundred!"