Books › Blue Book v073 n06 [1941-10], 1941 › scan 3
Scan 3
Blue Book v073 n06 [1941-10], 1941
54 lines. Read by computer on 18 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1"Let me wish you luck," she said. "You'll need it."
3LIKE many another of us, Jim Hardesty was broke and out of a job when it happened. Oddly enough, that is just the time when such crazy things do happen; otherwise, where would be the hope in this shabby world? Only when one fights for existence is the help of the gods attracted; the supine moocher on destiny draws no luck.
5Hardesty was slow to recognize this inexorable fact. When he struck hands with the amazing Arabian Nights adventure of the Eight Gates, it seemed like fantastic nonsense.
7He was twenty-four, dark, slow-spoken, and a fighter. When the brokerage office closed, he was caught with scanty savings. For two months he had been waging a gradually losing battle, combing every avenue from employment offices to want ads. On the day he walked into the great hotel he was down to his last dollar.
9He entered the citadel of swank and splendor, this small city within a great city, by the [address hidden] doors, as in the old days when money was easy. Scrimson, one of the assistant managers, had formerly been an employee of his father's and would know him personally; he was making his pride-swallowing appeal to Scrimson. He wanted anything, even dishwashing.
11So Hardesty, neatly clad as ever, found Scrimson on the lobby floor and put the case to him squarely, without shame. Scrimson was a heavy-jowled man instinct with authority.
13"You know my background," Hardesty said. "College and a brokerage office. My family's gone; my father died when the crash came; my mother passed away three years ago. I've a head for figures, a personable appearance, a fair order of intelligence and excellent muscles. Somewhere, I should fit in here. A job as sweeper, chauffeur, laundryman—anything."
15Scrimson fingered his lip. "Mr. Hardesty, d'ye have any idea how many thousand people here in New York have those precise qualifications or better, and the same ambition? I'll grant that you have something apart: personality. But there's nothing I can do for you."
17"Who shovels your coal? I can do that."
19"No, I'm sorry, honestly sorry. Let me bear it in mind for a few days. Drop in the first of the week; something may turn up in the interim."
21Just then she passed.
23For an instant their eyes met. Hardesty was not staring, but he could not help looking; in that huge lobby, she reached out and attracted everyone.
25SOME
27Out of a job in New York, he stumbled upon the Arabian Nights adventures of the Eight Gates.
29Youth? Certainly. Beauty? He did not know. It was no question of beauty. She was a vivid force; that fleeting exchange of glances, that instant as their eyes met, he got the impression of a peculiar vibrancy.
31"Who on earth," he exclaimed, glancing after her, "is that?"
33Scrimson hemmed discreetly.
35"A Miss Negli," he rejoined. "From somewhere in Asia, I understand; a war refugee of some sort. We have a good many such people in the house just now. Well, Mr. Hardesty, you drop in again and—"
37"I'll do that, perhaps; thanks a lot, and I'm glad to have seen you again." Hardesty shook hands and turned away. He went over to the news-stand, bought an early edition of an afternoon paper, and sat down long enough to note a few Help Wanted items.
39His desperate effort had been fruitless; well, he had expected nothing else, really. Finishing the column in question, he folded the paper, rose, and started back for the [address hidden] entrance. At this instant he heard his name being called:
41"Mr. Hardesty! Mr. Hardesty!"
43He turned to see a page approaching him. The bellman came up to him and spoke.
45"Mr. Hardesty? Mr. Scrimson would like to speak with you. This way, sir."
47With a sudden gleam of hope, Hardesty followed to the office of the assistant manager, behind the reception desk, and walked in. Scrimson, seated at a desk littered with papers, scowled at him most unaccountably and motioned to a chair.
49"Sit down, Mr. Hardesty. Glad the boy caught you. I've an address here for you. It seems that one of the house guests noticed you talking with me and phoned to ask who you were—some fancied resemblance, perhaps. When I explained, I was instructed to give you this address, with word that you will find work there if you care to take it."
51Hardesty, astonished, took the slip of paper handed him. On it was jotted the name of John Cavendeen, of Cavendeen & Carver, Attorneys, at an address in upper [address hidden]
53"Well, this is certainly an amazing thing!" he exclaimed.
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.