IV
BILLY
A few minutes before noon the next day Billy Fenelby dropped intoMr. Fenelby's office in the city and the two men went out to lunchtogether. It would be hard to imagine two brothers more unlike thanThomas and William Fenelby, for if Thomas Fenelby was inclined to besmall in stature and precise in his manner, William was all that hisnickname of Billy implied, and was not so many years out of hiscollege foot-ball eleven, where he had won a place because of hissize and strength. Billy Fenelby, after having been heroized byinnumerable girls during his college years, had become definitely aman's man, and was in the habit of saying that his girly-girl dayswere over, and that he would walk around a block any day to escapemeeting a girl. He was not afraid of girls, and he did not hatethem, but he simply held that they were not worth while. The truthwas that he had been so petted and worshiped by them as a starfoot-ball player that the attention they paid him, as an ordinaryyoung man not unlike many other young men out of college, seemedtame by comparison. No doubt he had come to believe, during hiscollege days, that the only interesting thing a girl could do was toadmire a man heartily, and in the manner that only foot-ball playersand matinee idols are admired, so that now, when he had noparticular claim to admiration, girls had become, so far as he wasconcerned, useless affairs.
"Now, about this girl-person that you have over at your house," hesaid to his brother, when they were seated at their lunch, "whatabout her?"
"About her?" asked Mr. Fenelby. "How do you mean?"
"What about her?" repeated Billy. "You know how I feel about thegirl-business. I suppose she is going to stay awhile?"
"Kitty? I think so. We want her to. But you needn't bother aboutKitty. She won't bother you a bit. She's the right sort, Billy. Notlike Laura, of course, for I don't believe there is another womananywhere just like Laura, but Kitty is not the ordinary flightygirl. You should hear her appreciate Bobberts. She saw his goodpoints, and remarked about them, at once, and the way she has caughtthe spirit of the Domestic Tariff that I was telling you about isfine! Most girls would have hemmed and hawed about it, but shedidn't! No, sir! She just saw what a fine idea it was, and when shesaw that she couldn't afford to have her three trunks brought intothe house she proposed that she leave them at a neighbor's. Did notmake a single complaint. Don't worry about Kitty."
"That is all right about the tariff," said Billy. "I can't say Ithink much of that tariff idea myself, but so long as it is thefamily custom a guest couldn't do any less than live up to it. But Idon't like the idea of having to spend a number of weeks in the samehouse with any girl. They are all bores, Tom, and I know it. A mancan't have any comfort when there is a girl in the house. Andbetween you and me that Kitty girl looks like the kind that is sureto be always right at a fellow's side. I was wondering if Laurawould think it was all right if I stayed in town here?"
"No, she wouldn't," said Tom shortly. "She would be offended, and sowould I. If you are going to let some nonsense about girls being abore,--which is all foolishness--keep you away from the house, youhad better--Why," he added, "it is an insult to us--to Laura andme--just as if you said right out that the company we choose to askto our home was not good enough for you to associate with. If youthink our house is going to bore you--"
"Now, look here, old man," said Billy, "I don't mean that at all,and you know I don't. I simply don't like girls, and that is allthere is to it. But I'll come. I'll have my trunk sent overand--Say, do I have to pay duty on what I have in my trunk?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Fenelby. "That is, of course, if you want toenter into the spirit of the thing. It is only ten per cent., youknow, and it all goes into Bobberts' education fund."
Billy sat in silent thought awhile.
"I wonder," he said at length, "how it would do if I just put a fewthings into my suit-case--enough to last me a few days at atime--and left my trunk over here. I don't need everything I broughtin that trunk. I was perfectly reckless about putting things in thattrunk. I put into that trunk nearly everything I own in this world,just because the trunk was so big that it would hold everything, andit seemed a pity to bring a big trunk like that with nothing in itbut air. Now, I could take my suit-case and put into it the things Iwill really need--"
"Certainly," said Mr. Fenelby. "You can do that if you want to, andit would be perfectly fair to Bobberts. All Bobberts asks is to bepaid a duty on what enters the house. He don't say what shall bebrought in, or what shall not. Personally, Billy, I would call theduty off, so far as you are concerned, but I don't think Laura wouldlike it. We started this thing fair, and we are all living up to it.Laura made Kitty live up to it and you can see it would not be rightfor me to make an exception in your case just because you happen tobe my brother."
"No," agreed Billy, "it wouldn't. I don't ask it. I will play thegame and I will play it fair. All I ask is: If I bring a suit-case,do I have to pay on the case? Because if I do, I won't bring it. Ican wrap all I need in a piece of paper, and save the duty on thesuit-case. I believe in playing fair, Tom, but that is no reason whyI should be extravagant."
"I think," said Tom, doubtfully, "suit-cases should come in free. Ofcourse, if it was a brand new suit-case it would have to pay duty,but an old one--one that has been used--is different. It is likewrapping-paper. The duty is assessed on what the package containsand not on the package itself. If it is not a new suit-case youwill not have to pay duty on it."
"Then my suit-case will go in free," said Billy. "It is one of thefirst crop of suit-cases that was raised in this country, and Ivalue it more as a relic than as a suit-case. I carry it more as asouvenir than as a suit-case."
"Souvenirs are different," said Mr. Fenelby. "Souvenirs are classedas luxuries, and pay thirty per cent. If you consider it a souvenirit pays duty."
"I will consider it a suit-case," said Billy promptly. "I willconsider it a poor old, worn-out suit-case."
"I think that would be better," agreed Mr. Fenelby. "But we willhave to wait and see what Laura considers it."
As on the previous evening the ladies were on the porch, enjoyingthe evening air, when Mr. Fenelby reached home, with Billy in tow,and Billy greeted them as if he had never wished anything betterthan to meet Miss Kitty.
"Where is this custom house Tom has been telling me about?" heasked, as soon as the hand shaking was over. "I want to have mybaggage examined. I have dutiable goods to declare. Who is theinspector?"
"'I declare one collar'"]
"Laura is," said Kitty. "She is the slave of the grinding systemthat fosters monopoly and treads under heel the poor people."
"All right," said Billy, "I declare one collar. I wish to bring onecollar into the bosom of this family. I have in this suit-case onecollar. I never travel without one extra collar. It is thetwo-for-a-quarter kind, with a name like a sleeping car, and it hasbeen laundered twice, which brings it to the verge of ruin. How muchdo I have to pay on the one collar?"
"Collars are a necessity," said Mrs. Fenelby, "and they pay tenper--"
"What a notion!" exclaimed Kitty. "Collars are not a necessity.Collars are an actual luxury, especially in warm weather. Many veryworthy men never wear a collar at all, and would not think ofwearing one in hot weather. They are like jewelry or--or somethingof that sort. Collars certainly pay thirty per cent."
"I reserve the right to appeal," said Billy. "Those are the words ofan unjust judge. But how much do I take off the value of the collarbecause two thirds of its life has been laundered away? How much isone third of twelve and a half?"
"Now, that is pure nonsense," Kitty said, "and I sha'n't let poor,dear little Bobberts be robbed in any such way. That collar costtwelve and a half cents, and it has had two and a half cents spenton it twice, so it is now a seventeen and a half cent collar, andthirty per cent. of that is--is--"
"Oh, if you are going to rob me!" exclaimed Billy. "I don't care. Ican get along without a collar. I will bring out a sweaterto-morrow."
"Sweaters pay only ten per cent.," said Kitty swe
etly. "What elsehave you in your suit-case?"
"Air," said Billy. "Nothing but air. I didn't think I could affordto bring anything else, and I will leave the collar out here. Iopen the case--I take out the collar--I place it gently on the porchrailing--and I take the empty suit-case into the house. I pay noduty at all, and that is what you get for being so grasping."
Mr. Fenelby shook his head.
"You can't do that, Billy," he said. "That puts the suit-case inanother class. It isn't a package for holding anything now, and itisn't a necessity--because you can't need an empty suit-case--so itdoesn't go in at ten per cent., so it must be a luxury, and it paysthirty per cent."
"That suit-case," said Billy, looking at it with a calculating eye,"is not worth thirty per cent. of what it is worth. It isworthless, and I wouldn't give ten per cent. of nothing for it. Itstays outside. So I pay nothing. I go in free. Unless I have to payon myself."
"You don't have to," said Kitty, "although I suppose Laura and Tomthink you are a luxury."
"Don't you think I am one?" asked Billy.
"No, I don't," said Kitty frankly, "and when you know me better, youwill not ask such a foolish question. Where ever I am, there a youngman is a necessity."