The ''Genius'', Theodore Dreiser [classic reads txt] 📗

he likes a man—and I think he might like you—he'll offer you what he thinks you're worth and you can take it or leave it. I never heard anyone complain about the salary he offered."

Eugene listened with extreme self-gratulation. He was thrilling from head to toe. This was the message he had been expecting to hear for so long. He was getting five thousand now, he had been offered six thousand. Mr. Kalvin could do no less than offer him seven or eight—possibly ten. He could easily ask seven thousand five hundred.

"I must say," he said innocently, "the proposition sounds attractive to me. It's a different kind of thing—somewhat—from what I have been doing, but I think I could handle it successfully. Of course, the salary will determine the whole thing. I'm not at all badly placed where I am. I've just got comfortably settled in New York, and I'm not anxious to move. But I would not be opposed to coming. I have no contract with Mr. Summerfield. He has never been willing to give me one."

"Well, we are not keen upon contracts ourselves," said Mr. Fredericks. "It's not a very strong reed to lean upon, anyhow, as you know. Still a contract might be arranged if you wish it. Supposing we talk a little further to Mr. Kalvin today. He doesn't live so far from here," and with Eugene's consent he went to the phone.

The latter had supposed that the conversation with Mr. Kalvin was something which would necessarily have to take place at some future date; but from the conversation then and there held over the phone it appeared not. Mr. Fredericks explained elaborately over the phone—as though it was necessary—that he had been about the work of finding an advertising manager for some time, as Mr. Kalvin knew, and that he had some difficulty in finding the right man.

"I have been talking to Mr. Witla, whom you met here today, and he is interested in what I have been telling him about the Weekly. He strikes me from my talk with him here as being possibly the man you are looking for. I thought that you might like to talk with him further."

Mr. Kalvin evidently signified his assent, for the machine was called out and they traveled to his house, perhaps a mile away. On the way Eugene's mind was busy with the possibilities of the future. It was all so nebulous, this talk of a connection with the famous Kalvin Publishing Company; but at the same time it was so significant, so potential. Could it be possible that he was going to leave Summerfield, after all, and under such advantageous circumstances? It seemed like a dream.

Mr. Kalvin met them in the library of his house, which stood in a spacious lawn and which save for the lights in the library was quite dark and apparently lonely. And here their conversation was continued. He was a quiet man—small, gray-haired, searching in his gaze. He had, as Eugene noted, little hands and feet, and appeared as still and composed as a pool in dull weather. He said slowly and quietly that he was glad that Eugene and Mr. Fredericks had had a talk. He had heard a little something of Eugene in the past; not much. He wanted to know what Eugene thought of current advertising policies, what he thought of certain new developments in advertising method, and so on, at some length.

"So you think you might like to come with us," he observed drily toward the end, as though Eugene had proposed coming.

"I don't think I would object to coming under certain conditions," he replied.

"And what are those conditions?"

"Well, I would rather hear what you have to suggest, Mr. Kalvin. I really am not sure that I want to leave where I am. I'm doing pretty well as it is."

"Well, you seem a rather likely young man to me," said Mr. Kalvin. "You have certain qualities which I think I need. I'll say eight thousand for this year, and if everything is satisfactory one year from this time I'll make it ten. After that we'll let the future take care of itself."

"Eight thousand! Ten next year!" thought Eugene. The title of advertising manager of a great publication! This was certainly a step forward!

"Well, that isn't so bad," he said, after a moment's apparent reflection. "I'd be willing to take that, I think."

"I thought you would," said Mr. Kalvin, with a dry smile. "Well, you and Mr. Fredericks can arrange the rest of the details. Let me wish you good luck," and he extended his hand cordially.

Eugene took it.

It did not seem as he rode back in the machine with Mr. Fredericks to the latter's house—for he was invited to stay for the night—that it could really be true. Eight thousand a year! Was he eventually going to become a great business man instead of an artist? He could scarcely flatter himself that this was true, but the drift was strange. Eight thousand this year! Ten the next if he made good; twelve, fifteen, eighteen—— He had heard of such salaries in the advertising field alone, and how much more would his investments bring him. He foresaw an apartment on Riverside Drive in New York, a house in the country perhaps, for he fancied he would not always want to live in the city. An automobile of his own, perhaps; a grand piano for Angela; Sheraton or Chippendale furniture; friends, fame—what artist's career could compare to this? Did any artist he knew enjoy what he was enjoying now, even? Why should he worry about being an artist? Did they ever get anywhere? Would the approval of posterity let him ride in an automobile now? He smiled as he recalled Dula's talk about class superiority—the distinction of being an artist, even though poor. Poverty be hanged! Posterity could go to the devil! He wanted to live now—not in the approval of posterity.

CHAPTER XXXVII

The best positions are not always free from the most disturbing difficulties, for great responsibility goes with great opportunity; but Eugene went gaily to this new task, for he knew that it could not possibly be much more difficult than the one he was leaving. Truly, Summerfield had been a terrible man to work for. He had done his best by petty nagging, insisting on endless variations, the most frank and brutal criticism, to break down Eugene's imperturbable good nature and make him feel that he could not reasonably hope to handle the situation without Summerfield's co-operation and assistance. But he had only been able, by so doing, to bring out Eugene's better resources. His self-reliance, coolness under fire, ability to work long and ardently even when his heart was scarcely in it, were all strengthened and developed.

"Well, luck to you, Witla," he said, when Eugene informed him one morning that he was going to leave and wished to give him notice.

"You needn't take me into consideration. I don't want you to stay if you're going to go. The quicker the better. These long drawn-out agonies over leaving don't interest me. There's nothing in that. Clinch the job today if you want it. I'll find someone."

Eugene resented his indifference, but he only smiled a cordial smile in reply. "I'll stay a little while if you want me to—one or two weeks—I don't want to tie up your work in any way."

"Oh, no, no! You won't tie up my work. On your way, and good luck!"

"The little devil!" thought Eugene; but he shook hands and said he was sorry. Summerfield grinned imperturbably. He wound up his affairs quickly and got out. "Thank God," he said the day he left, "I'm out of that hell hole!" But he came to realize afterward that Summerfield had rendered him a great service. He had forced him to do his best and utmost, which no one had ever done before. It had told in his character, his spiritual make-up, his very appearance. He was no longer timid and nervous, but rather bold and determined-looking. He had lost that fear of very little things, for he had been sailing through stormy seas. Little storms did not—could never again—really frighten him. He had learned to fight. That was the one great thing Summerfield had done for him.

In the offices of the Kalvin Company it was radically different. Here was comparative peace and quiet. Kalvin had not fought his way up by clubbing little people through little difficulties, but had devoted himself to thinking out a few big things, and letting them because of their very bigness and newness make their own way and his. He believed in big men, honest men—the biggest and most honest he could find. He saw something in Eugene, a tendency toward perfection perhaps which attracted him.

The formalities of this new arrangement were soon concluded, and Eugene came into his new and beautiful offices, heralded by the word recently passed about that he was a most charming man. He was greeted by the editor, Townsend Miller, in the most cordial manner. He was met by his assembled staff in the most friendly spirit. It quite took Eugene's breath away to realize that he was the responsible head of some fifteen capable advertising men here in Philadelphia alone, to say nothing of eight more in a branch office in Chicago and traveling canvassers in the different parts of the country—the far West, the South, the Southwest, the Canadian Northwest. His material surroundings were much more imposing than they had been with the Summerfield Company. The idea of all these men was to follow up business, to lay interesting propositions before successful merchants and manufacturers who had not yet tried the columns of the North American Weekly, to make contracts which should be mutually advantageous to the advertiser and the Weekly, and to gain and retain good-will according to the results rendered. It was no very difficult task in connection with the North American Weekly to do this, because owing to a novel and appealing editorial policy it was already in possession of a circulation of five hundred thousand a week, and was rapidly gaining more. It was not difficult, as Eugene soon found, to show advertisers in most cases that this was a proposition in which worth-while results could be obtained. What with Eugene's fertility in suggesting new methods of advertising, his suaveness of approach and geniality in laying before the most recalcitrant his very desirable schemes, his ability to get ideas and suggestions out of his men in conference, he was really in no danger of not being able to hold his own, and indeed was destined to make a rather remarkable showing.

Eugene and Angela settled into what might have been deemed a fixed attitude of comfort and refinement. Without much inconvenience to himself and with little friction among those about, he had succeeded in reorganizing his staff along lines which were eminently satisfactory to himself. Some men who were formerly with the Summerfield Company were now with him. He had brought them because he found he could inculcate in them the spirit of sympathetic relationship and good understanding such as Kalvin desired. He was not making the progress which Summerfield was making with really less means at his command, but then, on the other hand, this was a rich company which did not ask or expect any such struggle as that which Summerfield had been and was still compelled to make for himself. The business ethics of this company were high. It believed in clean methods, good salaries, honest service. Kalvin liked him, and he had one memorable conversation with Eugene some time after he came there—almost a year—which stuck in his memory and did him much good. Kalvin saw clearly wherein both his strength and his weakness lay, and once