"For all
practical
purposes the man is dead
already.
already.
Kipling - Poems
Reggie used to
call him striking and hair-curling names behind his back as a relief to
his own feelings; but he never abused him to his face, because he said:
"Riley is such a frail beast that half of his loathsome conceit is due
to pains in the chest. "
Late one April, Riley went very sick indeed. The doctor punched him
and thumped him, and told him he would be better before long. Then the
doctor went to Reggie and said:--"Do you know how sick your Accountant
is? " "No! " said Reggie--"The worse the better, confound him! He's a
clacking nuisance when he's well. I'll let you take away the Bank Safe
if you can drug him silent for this hot-weather. "
But the doctor did not laugh--"Man, I'm not joking," he said. "I'll give
him another three months in his bed and a week or so more to die in.
On my honor and reputation that's all the grace he has in this world.
Consumption has hold of him to the marrow. "
Reggie's face changed at once into the face of "Mr. Reginald Burke," and
he answered:--"What can I do? "
"Nothing," said the doctor.
"For all practical purposes the man is dead
already. Keep him quiet and cheerful and tell him he's going to recover.
That's all. I'll look after him to the end, of course. "
The doctor went away, and Reggie sat down to open the evening mail.
His first letter was one from the Directors, intimating for his
information that Mr. Riley was to resign, under a month's notice, by the
terms of his agreement, telling Reggie that their letter to Riley would
follow and advising Reggie of the coming of a new Accountant, a man whom
Reggie knew and liked.
Reggie lit a cheroot, and, before he had finished smoking, he had
sketched the outline of a fraud. He put away--"burked"--the Directors
letter, and went in to talk to Riley, who was as ungracious as usual,
and fretting himself over the way the bank would run during his illness.
He never thought of the extra work on Reggie's shoulders, but solely of
the damage to his own prospects of advancement. Then Reggie assured him
that everything would be well, and that he, Reggie, would confer with
Riley daily on the management of the Bank. Riley was a little soothed,
but he hinted in as many words that he did not think much of Reggie's
business capacity.
Reggie was humble. And he had letters in his desk from the Directors
that a Gilbarte or a Hardie might have been proud of!
The days passed in the big darkened house, and the Directors' letter of
dismissal to Riley came and was put away by Reggie, who, every evening,
brought the books to Riley's room, and showed him what had been going
forward, while Riley snarled. Reggie did his best to make statements
pleasing to Riley, but the Accountant was sure that the Bank was going
to rack and ruin without him.
call him striking and hair-curling names behind his back as a relief to
his own feelings; but he never abused him to his face, because he said:
"Riley is such a frail beast that half of his loathsome conceit is due
to pains in the chest. "
Late one April, Riley went very sick indeed. The doctor punched him
and thumped him, and told him he would be better before long. Then the
doctor went to Reggie and said:--"Do you know how sick your Accountant
is? " "No! " said Reggie--"The worse the better, confound him! He's a
clacking nuisance when he's well. I'll let you take away the Bank Safe
if you can drug him silent for this hot-weather. "
But the doctor did not laugh--"Man, I'm not joking," he said. "I'll give
him another three months in his bed and a week or so more to die in.
On my honor and reputation that's all the grace he has in this world.
Consumption has hold of him to the marrow. "
Reggie's face changed at once into the face of "Mr. Reginald Burke," and
he answered:--"What can I do? "
"Nothing," said the doctor.
"For all practical purposes the man is dead
already. Keep him quiet and cheerful and tell him he's going to recover.
That's all. I'll look after him to the end, of course. "
The doctor went away, and Reggie sat down to open the evening mail.
His first letter was one from the Directors, intimating for his
information that Mr. Riley was to resign, under a month's notice, by the
terms of his agreement, telling Reggie that their letter to Riley would
follow and advising Reggie of the coming of a new Accountant, a man whom
Reggie knew and liked.
Reggie lit a cheroot, and, before he had finished smoking, he had
sketched the outline of a fraud. He put away--"burked"--the Directors
letter, and went in to talk to Riley, who was as ungracious as usual,
and fretting himself over the way the bank would run during his illness.
He never thought of the extra work on Reggie's shoulders, but solely of
the damage to his own prospects of advancement. Then Reggie assured him
that everything would be well, and that he, Reggie, would confer with
Riley daily on the management of the Bank. Riley was a little soothed,
but he hinted in as many words that he did not think much of Reggie's
business capacity.
Reggie was humble. And he had letters in his desk from the Directors
that a Gilbarte or a Hardie might have been proud of!
The days passed in the big darkened house, and the Directors' letter of
dismissal to Riley came and was put away by Reggie, who, every evening,
brought the books to Riley's room, and showed him what had been going
forward, while Riley snarled. Reggie did his best to make statements
pleasing to Riley, but the Accountant was sure that the Bank was going
to rack and ruin without him.
