An elderly gentleman was working in his shop. He walked forwards and backwards, moving his machine closer and farther from the heat in even steps. So intense was his concentration that he did not hear his assistant calling his name.
"Your daughter's here, Mr. Wynant." The assistant received no response. He shut the door and moved closer to the gentleman. "Mr. Wynant?" Again, no response. He stepped closer to the edge of the platform and called again, tapping the man's shoulder. "Mr. Wynant?!" The man startled, dropping his machine.
"Haven't you got any more sense than to shout at me like that?" he demanded.
"I'm sorry, but-" But Wynant didn't want to hear excuses.
"Two weeks work gone for nothing!" he continued, ignoring his assistant's apologies.
"But I just wanted to tell you-"
"I don't care what you wanted to tell me! Get your things, get out, you're through! Get out!"
"Yes, sir, I'm going, I'm going." The assistant assured, backing away from the angry man.
"Get out!" Wynant shouted again. "It's a good thing I'm going away. No peace, no quiet," he muttered to himself, picking his broken machine up off the floor. His assistant didn't respond, moving to the door. "Everybody interrupting me." The assistant opened the door and a young woman and gentleman bounded through.
"Can I come in? Did you tell him?" she asked, not waiting to hear the response. She was a young woman about mid-twenties with her dark hair cut in a bob.
"I didn't get a chance," he answered, more to the young gentleman following her. She skipped down the steps, all but jumping on Wynant and kissed his cheek.
"Dad!" she greeted happily, kissing his cheek.
"Now, why didn't somebody tell me you were here?" he chuckled.
"Aw, I'm sorry to interrupt your work, darling. Look at you. But this really is important." She stated, digging in her purse.
"How are you?" The young man greeted, his hat held nervously in his hands.
"Oh, another young man?" he asked his daughter as she wiped dirt off his face with her handkerchief.
"It's the same one," the man laughed. Wynant's daughter giggled.
"It's been the same one for three months."
"Oooh, forgive me. How are you?" he asked, shaking the man's hand.
"How do you do?"
"Now take a good look at him, Dad," she teased, grabbing both her father's shoulders. "Try to remember him...because...he's going to be your son-in-law."
"Ohh, wellll," he stated, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief.
"That is, if it's alright with you, sir," he said, smiling.
"And if it isn't?"
"He's still going to be your son-in-law," Wynant's daughter answered, laughing. Wynant put his glasses back on, crossing his arms.
"You see how much we have to say." he joked.
"But, Dad," she stated, pulling the lapel of his jacket. "This is really what I wanted to talk to you about." Her fiance took the hint.
"Oh, well do you mind if I look around?" he asked.
"No, help yourself. Tom, show this... Uh, say where are you going?" he asked. Tom, his assistant, had gathered his belongings and was heading out the door.
"Home," he stated.
"Home?" Wynant asked.
"I'm fired.
"Who fired you?"
"You did." His daughter laughed as Wynant chuckled himself.
"Say, forget it. Forget it. Will you show this gentleman around?"
"Yes, sir, right this way, sir." Tom beckoned the young gentleman.
"Thank you," he said, giving a short bow to Wynant and following the assistant. Wynant's daughter turned back to her father, scooting closer and throwing her arm around his neck.
"Dad, Mother's planning on a big church wedding," she sulked.
"Yeah, she would." Wynant stated, removing his glasses to clean them again.
"Oh, I hate all that fuss. But I'll do it on one condition. That you're there to give me away, darling." She stated, hugging him and giving him a slight shake.
"What would your mother say to that?" Wynant asked, chuckling.
"Well, it's my wedding, isn't it?"
"Yes, but wouldn't it be embarrassing, all of us there...your mother, me, your stepfather?" he asked, tucking his glasses into the inside pocket of his glasses.
"Oh, he can stay home. Please, daddy, won't you?" she smiled.
"Well, if you think it'd be alright," he agreed.
"Oh, you're a lamb!" she shouted happily, embracing him in another hug.
"Now wait a minute, wait a minute!" he cried, pulling out of her embrace. "Now when's it going to be? I'm leaving town tonight."
"Where are you going?" she asked, surprised at the news.
"That's a secret. I can't even tell you, my dear. I've got an important idea to work on."
"What is it, a new invention?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes, and I don't want somebody to steal it from me."
"Aw, but we were planning on being married right after Christmas." she pouted.
"Oh, I'll be home before Christmas," he assured.
"Is it a promise?"
"That's a promise I won't forget." he promised, tapping her underneath her chin.
"All right!" she cried, kissing the side of his head.
"Where's MacCaulay, it's time I started. Oh, how's your brother?"
"Oh, he's alright," she answered, enthusiasm obviously curbed.
"I'd like to see him. Why don't you bring him down?" Wynant asked.
"Oh, well you know how it is, daddy. He's sort of under Mother's thumb." she stated, hand resting on his shoulder.
"Yes, I know."
"You're not missing much. He's cuckoo," she stated, trying to cheer him up.
"Like all the rest of us?" he asked. She chuckled. "Say, has this fellow -" he cut off, glancing to see where Tom and the young gentleman were. "Has he seen the whole family?" he asked.
"Yes, and he still wants to marry me," she laughed.
"He's a brave man."
"Yes," she nodded, both of them laughing.
"Thanks a lot, old man. You certainly have an interesting plant here," the young man stated, rejoining his fiance and future father-in-law.
"Didn't I tell you?" she said.
"I didn't know that you invented that smelting process, Mr. Wynant."
"Look, this is the first metal that came through," she explained, grabbing her father's watch chain. "Three kinds of ore: gold, silver, copper." She stated, pointing to each on in turn. The young man took it from her hand, pulling it in for a closer look.
"Well, isn't that interesting," he stated. The young girl's attention was turned to her father. Wynant had placed his right leg on a low table, rubbing at his shin.
"Oh, Daddy, does that still bother you?" she asked sadly.
"Only in bad weather," he assured.
"But it isn't bad weather now!"
"Well, you better get home before it is," he stated, placing his leg back on the ground.
"All right," She stated, grabbing his face. "Good-bye, darling and don't forget, the thirtieth of December!" She kissed both his cheeks, and Wynant turned to his future son-in-law.
"Good-bye, boy," he stated, shaking his hand.
"Good-bye."
"Take good care of Dorothy," Wynant instructed, walking them to the door. "Show her that there is such a thing as a happy marriage."
"I'll do my best," he assured as he and Dorothy were ushered through the door.
"Good-bye, sweetie," Dorothy called over her shoulder.
"Good-bye, dear," Wynant responded as the door swung shut.
"Is it all settled?" he asked. Dorothy hummed her response. "Grand. Say, why did your mother divorce him? I think he's swell!"
"Well, it seems he has a secretary," she explained.
"Oh, well I'll do my own typing." he stated as they climbed the stairs. As they opened the door, a flurry of snowflakes greeted them.
"Oh, Dad's a good barometer!" Dorothy joked. "Here's a taxi." They scurried down the steps, and Dorothy pushed underneath a black umbrella. "Hello, Mr. MacCaulay." she greeted.
"Oh, how are you? Here, get under this," he stated, offering his umbrella.
"No, no, we're taking your cab," she responded, ducking inside and pulling her fiance after her.
"Is your father still in there?" MacCaulay asked.
"Yes, he's waiting for you."
"Did he tell you where he was going?"
"He wouldn't say." MacCaulay shook his head in exasperation.
"Well, goodbye Miss Wynant," he stated, shutting the door and going to retrieve his change.
"Here's your change, boss," the driver stated, handing over the money.
"You wouldn't drive slowly, so you don't get a tip." MacCaulay stated.
"That's okay, sweetheart, I got it anyway," the driver stated, pulling away. MacCaulay looked at the money in his hand, realizing that he hadn't received the correct change. Annoyed, he entered the shop. He was just heading to the invention room when he crossed Wynant.
"Oh, Mr. Wynant."
"Hello, there. Did you get my money?" Wynant asked, pushing the button for the elevator.
"I do wish you'd tell me where you're going," MacCaulay complained, pulling his wallet from his inside pocket.
"I'm not telling anyone."
"Suppose some business should come up?" he pressed, opening his wallet.
"That's just why I'm going." Wynant stated, holding his hand out for the money.
"There's one hundred, two hundred, three hundred..." he stated, counting the bills into Wynant's hand.
"Oh, here, nevermind," Wynant stated, pulling the money from MacCaulay's hand.
"Oh, I wish you'd count it. There's a thousand dollars there."
"I trust you," he stated, straightening out the money before shoving it into his pocket.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" MacCaulay asked. "Have you bought your ticket?"
"No."
"Well, let me do that for you."
"Yeah, you might do that. You might get me a ticket for..." MacCaulay leaned forward, but Wynant cut off. He smiled and gave a small puff of amusement. "No you don't." he stated, entering the elevator. "Thanks and good-bye."
"Well, what'll I do if something comes up?" MacCaulay asked.
"Settle it yourself. What have I got a lawyer for?" Wynant asked as the elevator began to rise.
"Is Julia going with you?"
"No."
"Well what if you need more money?" MacCaulay asked.
"I left instructions with Julia. She'll get it from you. Good-bye."
"Well, you don't tell me a thing. I don't know where you're going. I don't know when you're coming back. I don't know how to reach you if any business comes up!" MacCaulay shouted, but the elevator was already halfway to the second floor and Wynant could no longer here the shouting of his lawyer. MacCaulay shook his head and headed toward the door.
On the second floor, Wynant entered his office. "Hello, Tanner." he stated, greeting the old bookkeeper. He barely paused before heading to the safe. Tanner returned his greeting. "My daughter's going to be married, Tanner." he continued, putting on his glasses and bending down. "Nice young man. She just brought him in." Tanner paused in his bookkeeping looking nervously at his boss.
"Well, congratulations." He turned back to the books, but he wasn't working.
"I'm going to make her a wedding present. Thought I better do it now, before I forget it," Wynant stated, pulling a metal box out of the safe. He set it on his desk, swinging the lid open. "I can drop them on the way -" he cut off, staring into the box. Tanner watched him out of the corner of his eye. "That's funny," Wynant muttered. He took his glasses off before striding across the room. "Where are those bonds?" he demanded.
"Bonds, sir?" Tanner asked, standing and leaving his desk.
"I know I put them in there," Wynant stated angrily.
"Maybe Miss Wolf has them, sir."
"Yes..." Wynant stated, folding his glasses and putting them into their case. "...maybe she has."
"Joe?" a woman called.
"Yeah?" the man responded, flipping through a fashion magazine.
"How do you like yours?"
"Straight." He stopped at a certain picture in the magazine - two women were modelling the latest fashion - and held it up to see it in a better light. "You women sure take a lot of punishment." he stated. He stood quickly, dropping the magazine as he heard the apartment door opening. Wynant stood inside the door, staring at Joe. "You're in the wrong place, buddy." Joe informed him.
"Am I?"
"What's on your mind? What do you want?"
"Who is it, Joe?" the woman called, exiting the kitchen. She had short blond hair cut short - as was the style of the thirties.
"That's what I want to know," he answered.
"We're just having a little drink," she stated to Wynant.
"Yeah, so I see."
"Well," she gave a small, awkward laugh. "See you later, Joe." She nodded her head, and Joe took the hint.
"Sorry. Didn't know I was talking to the boyfriend," he stated, picking up his jacket and swinging it on as he walked to the door. "So long."
"So long, Joe."
"Who's that man?" Wynant demanded as soon as the door shut.
"He isn't anybody. Just a fellow I used to know."
"I thought you'd given up that sort of friend."
"Why, it's the first time I've seen him in years," she stated easily. "I didn't want him to think I was high-hatting him."
"You know how I feel about that sort of thing."
"Don't worry. You won't see him again. Tell me, did you change your mind about going?"
"No, I just came back for a second. I want to get those...bonds."
"Bonds?" she asked, a trace of nervousness showing. "What bonds?" she asked, sitting down onto the couch.
"The government bonds. The ones you took from the office safe," he stated as she readjusted herself on the cushions.
"Oh...oh, yes," she stated, recovering herself. "You told me to sell those a long time ago."
"I'd never tell you to sell those. I bought those for my daughter." he argued.
"But don't you remember-"
"Now see here, Julia," he cut her off. "You're counting too much on my absent-mindedness. You've been taking a little here and there for some time without my saying anything about it. But this is fifty thousand dollars.
"Do you realize you're accusing me of -" she stated angrily, rising from the couch.
"No one else had the combination of that safe," he continued, talking over her. "You took them. What did you do with them?"
"What if I did take them?" she demanded. "I'm sick and tired of seeing you hand out thousands of dollars to that family of yours."
"That's my business."
"And supporting a gang of loafers who don't care a darn about you," she continued, her feelings pouring out and she began pacing, moving around to the back of the sofa. "A wife that kicked you out the first time your foot slipped. Not one of them would raise a hand to help you. And I've given my whole life to you. If you kicked off tomorrow, where would I be?" she demanded, striding back to Wynant. "Out in the gutter. Certainly I took those bonds, who has a better right?"
"I want that money right now or I'll hand you over to the police," Wynant stated. His posture remained the same, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets, but his voice betrayed his barely concealed anger.
"Go ahead!" Julia challenged.
"They'll be pretty rough with you, with your record," he stated, crossing the living room and dialing the rotary phone.
"That's a fine thing to say to me after what I've been to you!"
"Hello! Give me-" Wynant began. Julia pushed the cradle down, disconnecting the call. Wynant looked at her, seeing the defeat on her face. He placed the phone back in the cradle, chuckling. "Well?" There was a pause, and Wynant stood up, towering over Julia.
"All right," she agreed, not looking at him. "I'll give it to you. Twenty-five thousand, that's all I've got."
"You're going to return every cent of it." he ordered.
"I can't! I haven't got it!"
"What did you do with the rest?"
"I never had it!" she confessed.
"Then there was someone in with you! Who was it?" he demanded, moving forward as Julia moved backward. The phone rang in the background. "Who WAS it?!" Julia moved to answer the phone but Wynant blocked her. "I'll answer that." He crossed the room and picked up the receiver. "Hello? Hello? Hello?!" The caller hung up without saying anything and Wynant set the phone back in the cradle. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. "You don't need to tell me." he told Julia, his jacket halfway on. "I have a pretty good idea." He grabbed his hat and turned toward the door.
"What are you going to do?" Julia demanded. Wynant turned, and a cruel grin crossed his features. Julia backed away from him, horrified. Wynant left the apartment and exited the building, walking down the street in the darkness of the night.
~Review~