PR 6003 .R38 D4 1913 Copy 1 ^' DEALING IN FUTURES DEALING IN FUTURES A PLAY IN THREE ACTS By HAROLD BRIGHOUSE Copyright, 191 3, by Samuel French, Limited New York SAMUEL FRENCH Publisher 28-30 WEST 38TH STREET London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd 26 Southampton Street STRAND 1^ 13 THE PLAYS OF HAROLD BRIGHOUSE THE ODD MAN OUT A Comedy in Three Acts. is. net. THE OAK SETTLE A Comedy in One Act. 6d. THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON A Comedy in One Act. 6d. London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 26, Southampton Street STRAND ^ransfen^^iif from DEALING IN FUTURES A PLAY IN THREE ACTS CHARACTERS Jabez Thompson . RosiE Thompson . John Bunting, J. P. •Charlie Bunting . Walter Clavering LOMAX . Dowden James Pullen Robert Livesey C Job Alcott ) Mrs. Jones. Mrs. Wilcock. Buxler A Chemical Manufacturer. His Daughter. A Master Dyer. His Son. A Young Doctor. Thompson's Cashier. A Clerk. Workmen employed in Thompson's Works. In Thompson' s House. The Scene is laid in an outlying Lancashire village and the action of the play takes place within a space of t wenty-six haurs. DEALING IN FUTURES First produced at the Royalty Theatre, Glasgow, by th^ Glasgow Repertory Company on October 7, 1909, %ith th- following cast : — r- . — Jabez Thompson RosiE Thompson Butler . Walter Clavering John. Bunting Charlie Bunting LOMAX . Mrs. Wilcock Dowden James Pullen Robert Jones Joseph Livesey Job Alcott . Mrs. Jones , Mr. M.I R. Morand. Miss Mary Jevrold. Mr. H. Walker. Mr. Hubert Harden. Mr. R. B. Drysdale. Mr. Milton Rosmer. Mr. Ashton Tonge. Mrs. Sephton. Mr. Perceval Clark. Mr. Campbell Gullan. Mr. W. Edwyn Holloway. Mr. Laurence Hanray. Mr. George Wyley. Miss Eva Chaplin. The Characters make their appearance in the order named. The play Produced by Mr. Frank Vernon. Subsequently produced by Miss Horniman at Manchester and by the Liverpool Repertory Theatre. The Fee for each and every representation of this play by Amateurs is Three Guineas, payable in advance to Messrs. Samuel French, Limited, 26, Southampton vStreet, Strand, London, or their authorized representatives, who will issue a written permission for the performance to take place. No representation may be given unless this written authority 'has first been obtained. All the costumes, wigs and properties used in the performance of plays contained in French's Acting Edition may be hired or purchased reasonably by Messrs. Chas. H. Fox, Ltd., 27, Wellington Street,. Strand, London. DEALING IN FUTURES The aining-room of Jabez Thompson's ; tke room is luxuriously furnished and combines comfort with ostentation ; the door -is left, and at the back a large doorway curtained off leads to the billiard-room. (A plan of this and the other scenes in the play will be found at the end of the book.) The table is littered with the debris of dinner, and at it sit Jabe z Thompson (l.), and Rosie his daughter (l.), facing each other. Jabez is elderly, corpulent, bearded, o f florid face and general prosperous appearance ; he wears a frock coat, light grey trousers, and has a heavy gold watch chain. He speaks with all the asserliveness of life-long success. Rosie is dark and highly coloured, her face strong rather than beautiful. She dresses with taste, avoiding her father's scarcely veiled vulgarity, and wears a high dress of some amber material. She inherits k-r faihers strength of ii)ill, and though outwardly cultured, has not been able to subdue entirely a naturally violent temper. Her voice is a little shrill and shrewish, and Jabez is obviously rather afraid of her. Mallinson, the butler, enters with coffee, which he places on the table by Rosie. Rosie pours coffee. Butler puts cup by Jabez. Butler. Mr. Lomax, from the works, has arrived, sir. 10 DEALING IN FUTURES. Jabez, Very well, put kim in the librar}/. I'll be there in a moment to sign the letters. Butler. Yes, sir. Jabez. Oh, give him this and tell him to -look through it. {Gives folded paper from Itis pocket.) Butler. Yes, sir. (Takes paper and exit.) Jabez (sips coffee, lights cigar, and turns chair to face audience). By the way, Rosie, I asked Charlie to come round after dinner and to bring his father. Rosie (interested). Oh! Why? Jabez. I'm not satisfied with him. I v/ant to have a chat with the pair of them to see if we can't get things on a better basis. Rosie. What's the matter with Charlie ? Jabez. Oh, you wouldn't understand. It's a business question. Rosie. I see. You'd rather I wasn't here ? , Jabez. Yes. If you don't mind. We can.'t do better than stick to the rule even where Charlie's concerned, eh ? Rosie. Oh, I shan't intrude on a business talk. Jabez. . Thanks, my dear, thanks. (Encouraged to go on.) Do you know, Rosie, I'm not a bit happy over this engagement of yours to Charlie. Rosie (curtly). Why ? Jabez (apologetically). He's a queer fellow. I can't size hmi up. I can't think why on earth you got engaged to him. Rosie. That's my business, isn't it ? Jabez Yes, my dear. I suppose it is. But that doesn't stop me from wishing you'd taken a fancy to some one else. Rosie. I've told you before I won't have you interfering in my affairs, father. I'm quite capable of managing them myself. Jabez (meekly). I try not to, my dear. I do try not to. Only this matter — it's not as if you had a mother, is it now ? Rosie. Oh, you can trust me to judge whether DEALING IN FUTURES. 11 a man comes because he wants me or v/hether he's only a vulgar fortune-hunter. Whatever Charhe is or isn't, he's not after my money. Jabez. No, Charlie never is after money. You're easily the better business man. He's always got his head full of ideas about pampering the men instead of thinking of the welfare of the firm. RosiE (snappishly). You needn't think you can get me to break it off, so don't try. You can say what you hke to him so long as you remxember I'm going to marry him. Jabez. Well, w^ell, I must see what I can make of Charhe. (Drinks.) I'll tell you one thing, my dear, you're a good deal more eager about it than he is. RosiE. Possibly. You needn't v/orry about that. Jabez. But I do worry, my dear. How can I help it ? (Rosie moves impatiently.) Nov/ don't fly in a temper. He is taking his time in coming up to scratch. Let me ask you one thing ? Rosie. Yes ? Jabez. When are you going to be married ? Rosie. I really don't know. Jabez. No, and it's time you did. You've been engaged long enough. Rosie. Is that v/hat you are going to talk to him about to-night ? Jabez. Amongst other things. I'm tired of his playing about with the thing. If your mind's made up, what's there to wait for ? People are beginning to talk. Rosie. Let them. Jabez. That's all very well, but people in our position must consider public opinion. You don't object to my settling it, do you ? Rosie. Oh, do what you want. But don't you dare to bully Charlie. I won't have him bullied. Jabez. Oh, I shan't hurt him. A good talking to 'ull do him no harm. 12 DEALING IN FUTURES. {Enter Butler, l.) Butler (at door l.). Dr. Clavering has called, sir. Wishes to speak to you. Jabez (surprised). Clavering? Weil, show him up. Butler. Yes, sir. (Exit Butler.) Jabez. What's the matter with Clavering ? He doesn't often condescend to leave his precious research work in the evenings. (RosiE shriigs her shotdders contemptuously. Enter Butler.) Butler (announchig) . Dr. Clavering. (Enter Clavering. Exit Butler. Clavering is a young doctor imth keen clever face, clean-shaven, with a general air of self-reliance. He is a practical man of affairs whose business happens to he doctoring.) Clavering. Good evening, Mr. Thompson. Jabez (rising). Good evening, Dr. Clavering, (They shake hands, and Jabez, turning his chair sits sideways to the table.) Clav. Good evening, Miss Thompson. (Rosie murmurs and bows coldly.) Jabez. Well, what can I do for you, doctor ? Sit down. Clav. (sits on sofa l.). The fact is — it's rather a liberty — I hope you won't mind. Jabez. Out with it, man ! What's to do ? Clav. I've come to see you about one of your men — a fellow named Alcott. Jabez (reflectively). Alcott ? Alcott ? Clav. You don't just call him to mind ? Jabez. No, but I wiU. Clav. That won't matter. It's just Jabez (rising). But it does matter; if I talk about a man I hke to know who I'm talking about. I shan't be a moment. My record book's handy. DEALING IN FUTURES. 13 Clav. Record book ? You keep it here ? Jabez. Yes ; I've every man's record in that book. I don't risk leaving a thing like that at the works, safe or no safe. (Crossing and reaching door L.) I'll go and look the name up. Lomax is here too with the letters for signing, but that won't detain me long. (Exit taking hunch of keys from^ his trousers'' pocket.) Clav. Miss Thompson, I'm glad your father's gone. It gives me an opportunity RosiE (eagerly). Yes ? Any illness amongst the men, doctor ? Clav. Only this Alcott. I'll discuss that with Mr. Thompson. Don't let's waste time now. (Rises and moves to hack of tahle.) I hoped so much to see you alone. I never get a chance. RosiE. There's always the telephone. Clav. I can't see your face through the tele- phone, and it's always about others. What a great heart 3/ou have, ]\Iiss Thompson ! (Sits ahove tahle.) RosiE. I ? Oh, one does what one can. Clav. For others. RosiE. Others ? Clav. Yes; for me it's the telephone — always the telephone. So and so's ill— a name passes, an address, and we ring off. I never get the chance of seeing you alone. RosiE. Doctors are such busy people aren't they ? Clav. Xot too busy to be human, to desire to see in the flesh the woman one's always communi- cating with through Vcold-blooded telephone. We're allies, you know. Miss Thompson, fellow-conspirators, aren't we ? That makes a bond between us. RosiE (conventionally). It's very good of you to let me know so promptly when any of the men fall ill and to keep it a secret between us — even from Charlie. 14 DEALING IN FUTURES. Clav. {contemptuously). Oh, Charlie f RosiE {quickly). He doesn't know, of course ? Clav. No, he knows nothing. RosiE. I was just afraid. You're such close friends, and this book you've been writing must have brought you closer together. I thought you might have let it slip out. Clav. Oh, no. I kept the bond. RosiE. I can never thank you sufficiently. Clav. You could if you would. RosiE. How ? Tell me. Clav. As you said, I'm a bu^y man, but I'm not too busy to use my eyes. A man can't join hands with a good woman in the great work of allevi- ating suffering without conceiving an admiration for her, without longing RosiE {coldly). Need we waste time in . compli- ments, Dr. Clavering ? My father may be back at any moment, and if you've] anything to say to m.e/ w^on't you come to the point ? Clav. I want to • knovv- if I may hope for a reward. RosiE. Surely a doctor doesn't ask rev/ard for helping to do good. Clav. Virtue its ovrn reward ? Come, Miss Thompson, isn't that one of the maxims all of us apply to others rather than to ourselves ? RosiE {rising). If you want to be paid for your services to me, doctor, perhaps you will send in an account. Clav. You're misunderstanding wilfully. {Ris- ing.) Can't v/e be frank with one another, we co- workers in the same field ? Must you wear before me the mask you put on to suit your father ? RosiE. I wear a mask to suit my father ? I think you're labouring under some mistake. Clav. Then the reward I aim at is Oh, don't you see ? RosiE. I hope I don't. {Crossing to door R. at DEALING IN FUTURES. 15 back.) I think we'd both better forget this conver- sation, Dr. Clavering. Clav. [following). You shan't put me off. I • (Enter Jabez with a small red hound book, keeping a place in it with his finger. Clavering leaves Rosie promptly and stands above table.) Jabez. I'm primed now, doctor. (He sits and puts the book open on the table.) There's not much worth knowing about my men that this friend can't tell me (tapping the book). But it doesn't tell me much good about Mr. Alcott (emphasizing the " Mr. " sarcastically) . Clav. Sorry to hear that. Poor chap, he's in a bad way. (Rosie looks interested.) Jabez. Oh, you've been to see him professionally, Xlav. I don't go to see Brixham's Buildings. Ihey come to me. Surgery hours are just over. Rosie [sojtly, sitting at writing-table r., taking a piece of note paper and writing) . Brixham's Buildings. Jabez. Well ? ^ _ Clav. (sitting above table with elbows on it and finger- tips at chin). The work doesn't suit him. What that fellow needs is a good dose of fresh air. When 1 tola him so, he said he'd lose his job if he asked otl ^tor a month. I've come to see if something cant be arranged for him, Mr. Tompson. Jabez (coldly). In what way ? Clav. Couldn't you give him sick leave for a month or so ? Jabez. What's the matter with him ? Clav. (glancing at Rosie as if for a sign of approval). Oh, my cases here are all the same. I know them off by heart. Dyspepsia and faintness to begin with and_ paralysis to fohow. I could give that man no advice except to clear out of this. He told me he'd got to live. Jabez (whose signs of irritation have increased). 16 DEALING IN FUTURES. Rosie, do you mind leaving me to settle this with the doctor ? It's a works question, you know. RosiE [rising with the note doubled in her hand) Yes. Clav. (protestingly) . Oh, but RosiE. Don't get up, Dr. Clavering. (Clavering rises and holds back curtain at door r.c.) {Exit RosiE, R.c. Clavering returns to table.) Jabez. The fat's in the fire this time. Clav. I beg your pardon. Jabez. I thought you'd more sense than to come here with a tale of this sort. These things upset a woman. I do all I can to keep them from her, and here you spin this yarn before I've time to stop you. You should have come to me at the ofBce. Clav. [apologetically, sitting again above table). I rather hoped Miss Thompson might have put in a word for me. Jabez [brusquely). Nonsense. You know very well that I don't allow my daughter to interfere with business. I'd as soon start messing with her housekeeping. That's a woman's place if you like — the home. We'd to make a rule of it, years ago, Rosie and I. She got asking fool questions about things she didn't understand and worrying me silly till we both agreed it was best for her to steer clear of the works. We've each our place now. I've the works and she's the home. You've made a bad mistake, sir. ■ Clav. I'm sorry. 'I do hope you'll not let this prejudice Alcott's chances of a month off. Jabez. I shouldn't dream of doing such a thing. A month off for a labourer ! It's absurd. Clav. [seriously). I can't answer for the man's life if you don't, Mr. Thompson. Jabez. My dear sir, you're looking at the individual case. I can't do that. I've to see all DEALING IN FUTURES. I7 my inen at once 3.nd I know what they are. Give these fellows an inch and they take an ell. I can't make an exception for Alcott. I'd have to do the same for every man who fell sick and for Heaven knows how many mahngerers as well ; once I began that sort of thing, I'd never know when I'd end. Clav. Then you won't Jabez {interrupting). It's not that I won't, I can't, and there's an end of it. {Enter Butler, l.) Butler. Mr. Bunting. {Enter John Bunting, John bears some outward signs of similarity to Jabez. Like Jabez, he is elderly and corpulent. But, though hardly less assertive in tone at first, there is an underlying furtiveness, and he is extremely deferential to Jabez even while assuming an equal camaraderie with him. He wears a frock coat and has evidently modelled himself on Jabez. Clavering rises and goes r.c.) Jabez {patronizingly). Oh, good evening. John. (Jabez does not rise.) John. Good evening. {Crossing R.) Good even- ing, Dr. Clavering. (Clavering bo'ws — the Butler remains.) Jabez. What's the matter, Mallinson ? Butler {very importantly). Dr. Clavering's house- keeper, sir, have telephoned from his surgery as he's wanted. Clav. {briskly). Oh, I'll come at once. Excuse me, won't you ? {Crossing to door l.) Butler {raising his hand. Clavering stops aston- ished). It's at the works you're wanted, sir. An accident, I beheve. Clav. The works! {To Jabez.) Shall you come ? Jabez. I ? Certainly not. You're the man they want, not I. vSit down, John. (Jabez moves John B 18 DSALIXCI IN FITTITRES. to the chr.il'' RosiE had occupied at table R. John sits.) Clav. Oh, all right. I'll report later. Jabez. You needn't trouble. Bad news trave Is fast enough. Good night. Clav. (shortly). Good night. {Exit Clavering_, l., folloived by Butler.) Jabez. That young man's growing officious. A whisky, John. (Pours.) Have a cigar ? John. Thanks. Yours are too good to refuse. Jabez. Where's Charhe ? Isn't he with you? John. No. He's not been home to dinner. Still at the works I suppose. Jabez. Yes. (Pause.) I alv/ays did say a good cigar was the best part of a dinner. John. You're right there. When all's said and done, Jabez^ a good liver's got a lot to do with happi- ness. Thaik goodness, mine doesn't trouble me. Jabez. Nor mine. I've no patience with these modern fads— mustn't eat this and that and all that kind of rubbish. If I fancied a thing I had it, and damn the expense. Look at me to-day, sir. (Smack- ing his chest.) Sound, sir, sound as a bell. John (pliying up to him). We've hved, Jabez, there's no doubt about it. We've gone the pace in our time. Jabez (fiercely, as if contradicted). And why not ? You tell me that. Give me a good time, I say. That's my motto, and by Heaven I've hved up to it. John (admiringly). You alv/ays were a v/arm man. Jabez. Warm ? I believe you. Damme, sir, if I had my time over again I'd do the same. I wish I had, too. I'd show the young 'uns a thing or three, eh, John ? They think they're pretty wide awake, but I'll gamble we old cocks could give them a long start and win hands down. Eh, well, what's DEALING IN FUTURES. 19 the good of w'ishe:. ^ (Poir/s himself sorn? whisky ■soda.) ^ . ,, John. Yes, we've got to face it, old man. You and I have come to the time of life when a man makes his will and begins to think a bit about who's going to step into his shoes when he's done with them. Jabez. ■ That's the very thmg I want to talk to you about. Wnat I always say is if you've got a bit of business to do with a man. let him come and talk things over with you in your own house. Many's the deal^I've made that way in my time. Get a man feeling at home with himself, with some good wine inside him and a good cigar in his lips, and you can have your own way with him. Not that I mean that personally, John. (John waves deprecatingly.) Jabez. Only as a general thing. JoHX. Of course. To be sure. Jabez. Yes. We've got to think of the young 'uns. Rosie, now. Rosie's a good girl— been well brought up. No expense spared— same as if she'd been a bov. John'. You've done well by her, if she did dis- appoint vou by being a girl instead of a boy. Jabez." Aye, aye. That's an old sore now. And Tf I haven't a boy, John, you have. John {shifting uneasily). Yes, ves, I know I have. Jabez. Well ? John. Well, what ? Jabez. Look here, John, it's no good beating about the bush. We know each other by this time, and you're not the man to take offence at a bit of straight talk. That lad of yours wants speaking to, and damme, you're the man to do it. John. What's the 'matter with him ? Jabez. Nothing except that he's a fool. (John leaps up.) John. I say Jabez (intcYrupting). Now sit down, John. (John 20 DEALING IN FUTURES. sits.) Here's a lad I took a fancy to when he was a youngster. I take him to the works and give him every chance. It's understood he's to have Rosie and the business, too, when I've done with it. Here's Rosie sick for love of him. And vv^hat's he doing ? Shillyshallying round and can't be got to name the day. That's not all, either, but it'ull do to go on with. What do you make of it, John ? What's the matter with him ? John. The boy's sound enough at bottom. Give him time to come round. It's not the thing nowa- days to get married as young as it was in our day. And Charlie's in love with his work. Jabez. I know he is, the young fool. John. Come, steady on, Jabez. Jabez. Oh, well — Yes, all right, John. But what sort of work is it ? Laboratory experiments ! John. Yes, and jolly useful they are, too. You're bound to have a chemist. Give the devil his due, Jabez, Charlie's discoveries have been the making of the business. Jabez. They've had their uses. John. I should think they have. Why, man, you simply ran the place for a couple of years on that cheap fast red of his. Jabez. Hang it all, experimenting's all right, but a fellow needs a business head as well ; what's the good of his finding new processes if he can't exploit 'em ? John. You exploit them. Jabez. I know I do. But I shan't be here for ever. Charlie 'ud be a catspaw in the hands of a smart business man. He's the sort of fool a clever fellow hkes to get hold of. I want him to help me in the management, in selhng the stuff and handhng the men, and I can't get him to stir a finger. What's the use of a man hke that at the head of a business concern ? John (gruffly). Then don't put him there. DEALING IN FUTURES. 21 Jabez [irritated — rising and pacing about). By God, I will, though. (Turning abruptly to JoHxN.) Why ? (l.c.) ril tell you why. John. Nothing queers a man for business like the knowledge that thing's aren't righ' at home, and that girl of mine's fretting (u.l.). I tell you I'm not very particular who she marries so long as I know she's married happily, but she's set her heart on Charhe, so Charlie it must be, and I'm damned if I'll have him putting her off any longer. It's upsetting Rosie and it's upsetting me. That's why I want Charlie to be a man instead of a skalking chemist. {P.ms3^dwp- ping down l.) The fellow wants some backbone, John. Managing a works isn't ail plain sailing to-day, same as it v,as when the men knew their places. It wants a strong hand and a quick brain to see how to give 'em the little things that don't matter and to keep from them the big things that do. I'm getting old, John. I'd like a rest. You'll speak to liim, now, won't you ? \Sits L. of table.) John. Very well. I'll do my best. Jabez. Just make him see which side his bread's buttered. He's too clever by half. I can't make him out sometimes. He's got notions in his head about coddling the men and giving them better wages before they ask for them, as if it wasn't enough to have the Factory Acts and the Government Inspec- tors poking their noses round. Dangerous trades ! It was good enough for their fathers, and, by God ! it 'ull have to be good enough for them. I don't run my place for charity, and the sooner they get that mto their thick heads the better. {Irritably.) Where the devil is Charlie ? John. He said he'd come on here from the works if" he wasn't home to dinner. Jabez. Then why isn't he here ? John. Experimenting, again, I suppose. Jabez. Hang his experiments ! 22 DEALING IN FUTURES. (Enter L. Charlie Bunting gvcatly excited. He has the face of a visionary and his high forehead con- trasts with a weak, receding chin ; he has convictions and ideals, but it is douhtful if he has the courage to live up to them.) Jabez. Oh, there ^'oii are, sir. About time, too. (Seeing Charlie's agitation.) Hello, what's wrong with yon ? Charlie. There's been an accident. {He gasps.) Jabez. Fatal ? Charlie. Yes. Jabez. Curse their carelessness. (Irritably.) Another inquest, of course, and headlines in the papers and questions from the Coroner. What is it this time ? Another drunken fool walked into the vitriol tanks ? Charlie (bitterly). Oh, no, this needn't trouble you. We don't often kill men suddenly. We poison them by gradual degrees. Jabez. What was it ? Am I ever going to know ? Charlie. The lift gave way. Jabez. The lift ? Oh, we're net responsible for that. It was inspected only last week. We hold a certificate of efficiency. Charlie. Oh, yes, it was examined right enough. Only the men tell me the inspector was drunk when he came. Jabez. They can't prove it. Charlie. Not they. You needn't v/orry. They'll not have the pluck to repeat it in court. (Up stage l.) Jabez. Certainly not ; a coroner's court isn't the place for irresponsible gossip of that kind. Charlie (down to sofa). No, the verdict will_ be accidental death right enough, with polite expressions of sympathy and a rider exonerating us from blame. Jabez (settling himself comfortably in his chair). Of course. Very proper, very proper. And we've DEALING IN FUTURES. 23 th- Insir;anco CoTnu-.^y to fall bick on. I t-^1 you what, Charlie, they'll be raising ou-- p:emiuni if things ^o on lik- this. "^ Two fata^. accidents in a month. I suppose th-i^T-e's a widow. There usually i^. Charlie. Yes. There's a widow and six children. (Goinf^ up L.) Jabez [turning to Jvohx). I don't know how it is, but it always is the married men who t^et killed. (To Charlie.) Well, I don't see what there is to make all this fuss about, Charlie. Accidents will hapuen. Upon my word, you quite frightened me for a moment. Ring the bell and have some dinner. Charlie {shuddering). I can't eat. I've just seen a man killed. Oh, it's horrible, horrible. {Sits on sofa L., burying head in hands.) Jabez. Nonsense, man. Pull yourself together. It's deplorable, of course— a most distressing occur- rence — but no reason for going without your dinner. What did I tell you, John ? Charlie's too soft for this world. Charlie (raising head). Don't you understand ? I saw the hft crash down. I was there when they got out the poor, broken, mangled body from amongst the blood-stained splinters. I sav/ Jabez. Excuse me, Charlie, but I've just had my dinner. Kindly have the delicacy not to enter into details. Charlie. Very well. I— oh, I think I'll go home. Good night. (Going.) John. Wait a moment, Charlie. (Charlie's hand is on the door-knob l.) We were just speaking about you. Hadn't we better thrash this matter out now, Jabez ? Jabez (grimly). I'm agreeable if Charlie is. John. Sit down, Charhe. (Charlie sits imarily on sofa.) Charlie. What is it ? John. Well, it's hke this. Jabez tells me he considers you're wasting your time. He doesn t 24 DEALING IN FUTURES. call you lazy— not exactly lazy, do you, Jabez ? He wants you to widen your interests and broaden your ideas. That's it, isn't it ? Charlie {to Jabez). Oh, that's it, is it ? Jabez. It's one way of putting it. I don't know whether it's laziness or what it is, but you certainly fight shy of a bit of honest work. Charlie (leaping up fierily). Work? What else do I do from early morning when I enter the laboratory till late at night when I leave it? Jabez (smoofMy). Quietly, quietly. Yes, that's all very well, but that's not what I call work. Charlie. What do you call it then ? Jabez. It's not work to you. You hke doing it. Charlie. I loathe it from the bottom of my soul. Jabez. Then why do it ? Charlie. Well, as you put me into the works you ought to be able to answer that. better than I can. I'd no taste for the work at all, but the laboratory was the department I detested least. I suppose I naturally drifted to it. Jabez. Look here, my lad, I asked you a plain question, and I'll thank you for a plain answer. Charlie. I thought I'd given you one. Jabez. What made you choose the laboratory ? Charlie. I thought I saw some shadowy hope of doing good there. Jabez. Well, you've done a bit. I'll give you credit for that. Charlie. Not that kind of good. That was accidental. I only hit by chance on the processes which happened to prove profitable to you. Jabez. By chance ? Then what the devil were you driving at with my time and my chemicals ? Charlie. I hoped to find some means of accom- plishing what we do here by less dangerous methods — to let a httle health into the work. I saw strong workmen brought to these works in the prime of hfe DEALING IN FUTURES. 25 and health, and in a few years turned away, broken, worn-out invahds. I worked to find a way out. Jabez (contemptuously). You fool. Charlie. I quite agree. (Rises and paces up and down.) Yes, fool, fool, fool. Fool as much as if I'd sought the philosopher's stone or the ehxir of life. I did seek the ehxir of hfe, and I will go on seeking it— hfe for those helpless hundreds driven by the need to live to certain death. Let me go on. Let me hope ; but do not ask me to assist in getting orders for our deadly production. Every contract you sign your name to is the death-warrant of a workman: {Sitting on arm of sofa.) John {imploringly). Charhe ! Jabez. Have a little common sense, man. You're seeing things to-night. This accident's got on your nerves. {Rises.) After aU, I think you had better go home. We'll talk this over another time. I haven't lost my temper yet and I don't want to. {Putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.) Come now, admit that you're not quite yourself. Charlie. You treat me like a child. Havmg been naughty, I'm sent to bed to sleep off my tan- trums. Jabez. And I'm the ogre in the fairy story who makes bread of people's bones, eh, Charlie? Yes. you'll laugh at this to-morrow. Really, you've been making an awful ass of yourself. You'll see things in a better perspective in the morning. Charlie {bitterly). With myself as a respectable member of the governing classes, I suppose, with nice clean hands and a dirty conscience. Jabez. For Heaven's sake, Charhe, drop that silly twaddle. We've had enough of your platform manner for one night. You talk hke a Hyde Park orator, only they're paid to make fools of themselves and you're not. Charlie {pulling himself together). No. Lets 26 DEALING IN FUTURES have this out. I didn't begin it, but now we've gone so far I must know where we stand. Jabez. You're not fit for it. But it's as you like. (Sits L. of table.) . Charlie. I do hke. Now, Mr. Thompson, it's understood that I meant what I said. You must let me continue my laboratory work. I still hope to find less dangerous methods. I may also drop across a few more novelties for you to exploit. But I definitely decline to have a hand in coercing my fellow creatures to do the work as it is done at present, or in procuring orders necessitating such work. Jabez. But it is necessary work, Charlie. You must see that. Charlie. No work involving risk of death and the certaintv of ill health is necessa.ry. Jabez. Ours is. If the supply of our productions was cut short huge industries would be automatically dislocated. How are people to run their bleaching works and dye works if they can't get dye stuffs ? Charlie. Never mind. That wouldn't matter. Jabez. Oh, the boy's mad. This is what comes of debating societies and political meetings for infants. Look here, Charhe, it's one thing to get on your ^ legs and spout revolutionary rot to a roomful of fantastic fools as hare-brained as yourself, but it's a very different pair of steps to come here and ask me to take you seriously. If it wasn't for Rosie, I'd take you at your word and send you packing. As it is, I'll try something else first. John, this is your affair now. You've got to bring this fellow to his senses. (Rises and goes round table to John, r.) John. I'll try, Jabez, I'll try. Jabez (threateningly). You'll succeed. (Going up to door r.c.) John (looking up at him). What do you mean ? Jabez. You know as well as I do. I'm sorry, old man, but I've got to put the screw on. You can't expect me to keep my patience for ever if he DEALING IN FUTURES. 27 won't hear reason. You can't blame me. I'll go and join Rosie while you straighten things out a bit between you. {Exit through door centre. John sinks hack into his seat and buries his head in his hands on the table. Charlie goes' behind table to him and tries to raise him up.) Charlie (softly). Dad. John (slowly removing his hands from his face and raising his eyes to Charlie). You haven't called me that since you were a little boy. Charlie. Dear old dad. I don't want to know what it is. Let him think he's got hold of something. I don't care. . John. But you must know. I'm absolutely in his power. He can ruin me if he likes. Charlie. How ? John. It's my dye works, Charhe. Jabez finances it. No one knows it's not my own, but if he cut off supplies I'd have to close it down to-morrow, and call my creditors together. I make a hving out of it, buf the capital's all his. I couldn't meet a tenth of my liabihties without his aid. Charlie. Never mind, dad. (Sits above table.) We'll fight it together, shoulder to shoulder, you and I against the world. What does poverty matter if we can be independent ? John (terrified). No, no. You can't mean that. You can't mean to bring disgrace upon your father's grey hairs. Think of my position, Charlie — a public man in my own way ; not such a big pot as Jabez, but I have my feelings just the same. The Black- more Dye Works is a small enough concern compared with Jabez's Chemical Works, but it's meant the world to me. Every one thinks the business is "mine. What will people say when they learn that Vm practically penniless ? 28 DEALING IN FUTURES. Charlie. What does it matter what people say ? John {ignoring him). And Jabez is a man of "his word. He means it. He's never threatened to do this before. Charlie. And what makes" him do it now? John. Oh, you must do what he wants, Charhe. Charlie. But why does he want it ? Why won't he see that I'm unfit for the position he offers me ? I can't and I won't fitl it to his orders. Oh, it's my own fault, I suppose. He's quite right. I'm soft — too soft for this horrible, inhuman world. I yielded at first because I hoped to do some good, and I've .gone on yielding ever since. It seemed so easy to acquiesce and to hope for the best. And this is where my cursed weakness has landed me. John. Yes. Jabez has us at his mercy. Charlie. I'm as far as ever from seeing whv he's doing it. John. Oh, that's plain enough. He's a good sort, is Jabez. Charlie (staggered). What ! John. Oh, yes, really a good sort, only he likes to play boss. That's why he kept mum about my business — so that he could do as he Hked with me. And then Rosie took a fancy to you ; so old Jabez steps in to play providence to a pair of lovers. He's meant well all al^ng. Charlie. He's a sentimental ass. Curse his good intentions. John. You may curse them, but you'll not alter them. Jabez will have his way. Right or wrong, he will have his way, he always does. You may call him obstinate, pig-headed, anything you like, but, mark my words, it's no use fighting against him. Charlie (contemphwusly). You're frightened of him. John (with conviction). Terribly. Charlie. Well, I'm not. John {coming to him). Charlie, you must give DEALING IN FUTURES. 2<> way. Remember me. Can't yoii see that all these years have been hell upon earth to me ? I've been his slave, his dog, and all the time he professed friend- ship for me, nav, he was my friend. He patted me with one hand,' but the dog-whip was in the other. You can't force him to speak now, Charlie. Oh, say vou can't. Charlie. But— oh, I don't understand. 11 you had imagination enough to see all this and to writhe under it, and strength enough to keep your hands off him, couldn't you see there was a way out ? Why couldn't 3^ou leave him, leave this place, and make a fresh start somewhere else without his cursed monev ? - -d ^ John. I might have done that at hrst. But — well— hke father like son, Charlie. Charlie. What's that supposed to mean ? John. You've acquiesced. You've gone on hoping for the best. So did I till the cords which held me were bound more closely, till I became a man of substance here, looked up to by my neighbours. They made me sidesman at the Church and then a magistrate. I loved these things, Charlie, the httle honours I had won. I clung to them. Your mother died, and as you grew up and drifted from me full of ideas I could not understand, I clung more closely to the little things life held for me. It's all I have, Charlie. Don't take that away trom me Charlie. Why shouldn't people know it? There's no disgrace in having your business hnanced by another man. John. Well, if you must know, there s another reason. Charlie {suddenly alarmed). It's a paying con- cern, isn't it ? John. Yes, but I can't prove it. Charlie. Why not ? John. I've no figures to show. Any one i 30 DEALING IN FUTURES. approached would want to see accounts — audited accounts. Charlie. Well haven't you got them ? John. No. It was enough for Jabez to know that he got a good return on his money, I've never had auditors in the place. Jabez never asked it. Charlie. That doesn't justify your carrying on the thing in a slipshod manner. It only shows how absolutely content you were to remain in abject dependence on Thompson. Any tin-pot grocer keeps his books properly and gets them audited. John. Charlie, I'm your father. Charlie. Oh, it's all right. I'm going to stick by you. I'm going to be a pawn in Thompson's game. But I can't pretend that I can do it with a good grace. Your point of view's all wrong. You've been sailing under false colours all your life, and now I'm to cave in to Thompson so that you can go on hving a lie to the end, and a silly lie at that. John {with dignity). Charlie, remember who you are speaking to. Charlie. I do. I haven't the slightest hope of making you see it as I do, but I can't go licking Thompson's boots on your behalf without letting you know I'm not doing it for fun. And there's Rosie. I suppose Rosie's included in the bargain. John. You engaged yourself to her, didn't you ? Charlie. No. She did all the engaging there was about it. But it amounts to the same thing. I shall have to go through with it. John. Well, for the life of me I can't see what you have to complain of. Rosie's a nice girl. Charlie. That's no reason for marrying her. A man can't marry all the nice girls he knows. John. But you've always been fond of her, ever since you were- children together. You used to call her your little friend. Charlie (lightly). Mere boy and girl flirtation. John. It looked more serious than that. DEALING IN FUTURES. 31 Charlie [exasperated). Serious ? Of course it was serious. What do you take me for ? Do you think I'd have consented to an engagement at any price if I hadn't loved her to distraction ? I've tried to cease loving her, to school myself to hate her because of what slie is— Thompson's daughter— and I've failed. The love I hoped to conquer only conquered me. It's no good fighting it. I know that now. John (triuniphantly). Very well then, if you love the girl Charlie {at hay). Wait a bit. We were engaged before my eyes Vere opened, before 'I'd seen the horrible injustice of the men's Uves in the works. I tell you it's wrong, all wrong. From the first rrioment that I realized it, I dedicated my iiie to tne men. All personal desires were at an end. Rosie — everything went by the board. It was the men, the men, aHvays the men. John. Pssh ! Charlie. I can't serve two masters. I can t waste time on marriage. I've a lifelong duty to perform. I've to battle for reform ; and hov^ can I be single-purposed in the fight if I'm tied to Rosie and accept a share of Thompson's tainted money ? John (hopelessly). Well, I can't understand. I never could, and I'm sure I don't want to interfere between you, but Jabez seems to think you've been engaged long enough. Charlie. ' I can't help that. There are two ways of ending an engagement, anyhow. loHN. Charlie, you promised. Charlie. Yes, if she insists. It's Rosie I'm engaged to, not Thompson. I'm not going to start married life on a lie, [Enter Rosie centre.) and I shan't start it at all if I can help it. I— Rosie. What are you two talking about so seriously ? Father's sent me to see. John. Has he, my dear? [Rising and moving as though he had suddenly grown tuijenty years older.) 32 DEALING IN FUTURES. I think I will go to him. {Walking towards the door and mumbling again.) Yes, I think I will go to him. (Exit John by door r.c. A slight pause. Rosie looks at Charlie.) Rosie. Well, haven't you a word to throw at a dog ? (Charlie is silent.) Charlie, you're not ill, are you ? Charlie. Ill ? No. I'm all right. Rosie. Well, suppose you say " Good evening " to me. Charlie (collecting himself). I'm sorry. (He crosses over and kisses her perfunctorily, then sits down absent-mindedly on sofa. Rosie watches kirn for a m oment.) Rosie. You're not very brilhant to-night. Charlie. There's a depressing feeling in the air. H ave you felt it ? Rosie (compassionately) . You poor boy ! Father worries you with problems all day at the works, and when you come here in the evening its business again. No wonder you're depressed. (Going and sitting on the arm of the sofa.) Let me cheer you up. I'm not business, am I ? Charlie. No. But I think sometimes the prob- lems I face in the laboratory are child's play to those I've to face outside it. Rosie. Is it anything I can help with ? Let me try. Charlie. It is you. Rosie. Am I a problem ? (Rising and moving slightly away.) How exciting ! Charlie. It's not exciting. It's serious. Rosie (soberly, above sofa). And I'm not ? All right. I'll be serious, Charlie. What's the matter ? Charlie. Rosie, it's about — about our engage- ment. We've been engaged quite a long time now. Rosie. Two years. DEALING IN FUTURES.- 33 Charlie. Yes. It seems people are -wondering why we don't get married. RosiE (simply). I'm ready when you are, Charhe. Charlie. Yes — yds. That's just it. RosiE. What ? Charlie. It's a difficult thing to say, but I'm not ready. Rosie {sympathetically, standing in front o] soja). I don't think I mind very much what people say, Charlie. If you want me to wait a little longer, I can wait. I don't want to hurry you. You must choose your own time. {More lightly.) So that's all right and the cloud's passed now. Charlie {moved). Oh — if you only knew how hard you're miaking it for me. You're too good, too true to reahze what a weakling I am, what a criminal fool I've been to let things go on to this stage. Rosie {startled). Charlie, what do you mean ? Charlie {rising and crossing to Rosie). I'm going to hurt you, Rosie. It's all my cursed fault. Try to think of me as kindly as you can. Rosie, it's not a case of waiting a little longer. I wish to God it was. It's that I can't marry you at all. Rosie. You can't marry me ! Charlie. Oh, don't think worse of me than you must. It's not another woman. It never was and it never can be. I shall never love any one but yoii. Rosie. Then why, why ? Charlie. My hfe's too full. Rosie {ivonderingly) . Your life ? Charlie. Yes. How shall I put it ? (Crossing to soja L.) A Catholic priest doesn't marry lest marriage distract him from his wrestle with the devil. I too am going to wrestle with a devil— the devil of industrialism. I've things to do in the world, a battle to fight which can only be fought in the strength of loneliness. M DEALING IN FUTURES. RosiE {a little hardly). Yet you engaged yoarse]f to me. Charlie. Two years ago. I didn't see it then Day by day it ]ias become clearer. The task I have to do reveals itself. Oh, I dare say I don't put things well. I know I must show up like a blackguard for not telling you before. It's been inevitable for months, but I let things slide and there it is. We're up against it now. (Pause.) RosiE. Yes. We're up against it now. Only it takes tv/o to make a bargain, Charlie. If you can be obstinate, so can I. Charlie. What do you mean? RosiE. I mean that I know you better than you know yourself and a hundred times better than you know me. You and your Catholic priest ! In the Church I belong to priests marry, and I've yet to learn that they fight the devil any the worse for it. I don't believe that the strongest man is he who stands most alone when there's a woman in love with him. You don't knovj me yet, Charlie. If you think I'd let you go for the sake of your wrestle with the devil, you're mistaken. The devil might throve you if 3/0U wrestled him alone, but he'll have less chance if I'm there to pull his tail. Charlie. You won't release me ? RosiE. Never. Oh, you needn't be afraid. I dare say I've a surprise in store for you. You'll be none the worse for having a woman by your side and I know I'm the right woman. There's only one way of making you beheve it, and that is by marr3dng you and proving it. I'mi not afraid. Charlie. Well, I am. {Crossing to r.c.) You're assuming that I'm the ordinary sort of fool who thinks money's everything. I may be a lunatic, but^ I'm not that brand. I want' to be left alone. I want a decent chance of living my life in my own way. As things are, I'm caged. I'm at the bottom of an infamous well, and there's a window somewhere DEALING IN FUTURES. ' 35 far up, but I can't reach it. I can't find the way out. (RosiE smiles compassionately.) Now, you're laughing at me. You ! Rosie, harmless, necessary Rosie, whom I've always thought of as the type of bread and butter miss. Rosie. And you're surprised to find her a woman with a will of her own ? Charlie. You won't let me go ? {Crossing to L.c.) Rosie. Never. Charlie. Do you know what you are doing ? Rosie [confidently). Oh, yes. Charlie. You don't. You think you're being my guardian angel. You think you're helping me. As a matter of fact, you're hanging a millstone round my neck which will drag me down to the lowest depths of human misery. If it wasn't so utterly tragic I could laugh for a week at the silliness of it all. I'm not allowed an opinion of my own. I'm not to diverge by one hand's breadth from the path laid down for me. I'm to marry the wife you choose and do the work you choose and own the wealth you choose and take the place in society laid down for me. I'm not a man. I'm a specimen in a case with a pin through my body. I'm clay in the hands of the potter. I'm Rosie. You're the man I love. (Charlie collapses into chair l. of table.) Charlie. That's the last straw. I suppose I shall have that thrown in my face all my life. Rosie (reflectively). Let ms see. Shall we say April 25 ? Lent will be over by then. Charlie. Say what you like. I haven't a kick left in me. Rosie (going to door c. and calling). Father, father ! (Enter Jabez and John in their shirt-sleeves with billiard cues.) 36 DEALING IN FUTURES. Jabez. Well, my dear. What is it ? (c. behind table, John crosses R.c. Rosie is back l.c.) RosiE. Father, Charhe wants us to be married on April 25. Jabez. The young scamp. What a hurry he's in. Well, well, young people will be young people, eh, John ? (Nudges John.) John. Thank you, my boy, thank you. You don't know what this means to me. Jabez. Yes, this saves a lot of trouble, Charhe. You're going to be a sensible fellow, after all. (Patting Charlie's shoulder. John turns gratefully to Rosie.) Curtain. ACT II. The next morning. Thompson's office at the works. Doors L. and at the extreme R.c. Opposite the door . L. is a desk with revolving arm-chair. Fireplace at the hack centre, table against the wall by the fire- place. A couple of revolving arm-chairs. Carpet on floor. Jabez believes in working in comfort. Small hat-rack attached to wall by the door l. Tele- phone receiver on the desk, speaking tube protruding from the wall by the chair and handbell on desk, which is open. Clock on mantelpiece points to 9.55- LoMAX is an elderly man with iron-grey hair, clean- shaven, and has the appearance of a confidential head clerk or cashier, which in fact he is. He arranges a few open letters on the desk and puts a paper weight on them as Charlie enters l. bringing in Mrs. WiLCOCK, a careworn woman of thirty, dressed in black with shabby- skirt, heavy incongruous mantle and beaded bonnet. A considerable nervousness is added to her distress. Charlie (sympathetically). Come in here, Mrs. Wilcock. Mrs. Wilcock {entering shyly, seeing Lomax and "bobbing" towards him). Thank ye, sir. Charlie. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. (Pulling chair across towards fire.) Good morning, Mr. Lomax. Lomax (crossing to l.). Good morning, sir. (Exit Lomax, l. Mrs. Wilcock sits on the edge of the chair.) 37 38 DEALING IN FUTURES. Mrs. Wil. {anxiously). Do you think as A'm doing the reeght thing, Mr. Bunting, sir ? Charlie (standing by her r.). Oh, yes, quite right, Mrs. Wilcock. Mrs. Wil. (volubly). They all told me A mun coom an' see the master. A weren't sure if it were proper. But there's not above a two three shilling in th' 'ouse, an' wheer money's to coom from for th' burying A dunno. Six childer to find black for an' all, an' none oi 'em old enough to be earning. Charlie (with his back to fire). Don't let that trouble you, Mrs. Wilcock. I'll see to that. Mrs. Wil. It's all coom so sudden. He coom out to his work as cheerful as could be, an' when they browi him whoam to me a steam roller might a'gone o'er 'im. Charlie (shuddering). Yes, yes. I saw him. Mrs. Wil. The neighbours 'as been that good to me you wouldn't believe. One's lent me this cape an' another's loaned me this bonnet. A'd nobbut a skirt masel' as was anyways black. It's not as if we'd been in a buryin' club. Takes us folk all our time to go on livin' when theer's six young mouths to fill an' another comin'. Charlie. Well, you mustn't distress yourself about the funeral, Mrs. Wilcock. I'll make that my business. Mrs. Wil. (with tears). Bless you, sir, tha's takken a load off my mind. A couldn't abide thowt o' my man's not bein' buried proper. Charlie. What you've got to talk to Mr. Thomp- son about is the future. Mrs. Wil. (resignedly). It'll 'ave to be th' 'ouse for me. Charlie. Oh, nonsense. You'll get compensation. Mrs. Wil. Must A ask the master for it, sir ? Charlie. Certainly. Mrs. Wil. A misdoubt A'll never 'ave th' face to do it. DEALING IN FUTURES. 39 Charlie. You've nothing to b:' afraid of It'll be all right, Mrs. Wilcock. Mrs. Wil. {dohfully). A neve: thovvt as mine 'ud be work as childiren. Charlie. They won't be. You needn't fear that. (DowDEN, a young clerk of about tw::nty -eight, open^ the dojy l. He is cjvsfully dressed, but his clothes h2ve seen better days.) DowDEN. Dr. Clavering to see you, sir. (Enter Clavering, l. Dowden shuts the door.) Charlie. Hullo, old man ! Clavering. Good morning, Charlie. This is Mrs. Wilcock. Clay, [properly sympathetic). Oh, yes. Good morning. Very sorry to hear about your husband, Mrs. Wilcock. (r.c.) Mrs. Wil. {tearfully). Yes, sir. (Charlie goes to the door L. and opens it.) Charlie. Oh, Dowden. (Dowden appears.) Dowden. Yes, sir ? Charlie. Just give Mrs. Wilcock a chair by the counting house fire, till Mr. Thompson comes, will you ? Go with this gentleman, Mrs. Wilcock. {She rises and he walks with her to the door.) Now,' don't you fret. You v/on't have to go to the workhouse. Mrs. Wil. Thank you, sir. {She goes out with Dowden, l.) Clav. Are you sure of that ? Charlie. God knov/s, but the insurance people shan't rob her if I can help it. Isn't it damnable, Clavering ? Clav. Yes. But it won't last for ever. Charlie. The book, you mean. {Taking a book from his pocket.) Clav. Yes, the book. Hullo, do you carry it about with you ? Charlie. I'm going to give this to Thompson to-day. 40 DEALING IN FUTURES. Clav. Are you ? Charlie {a little anxiously). It's all right, I suppose ? About the publication ? Clav. Oh, yes. I heard from Mitchell this morning. It will be published to-morrow. Charlie. That's good. Clav, Yes. What I came to show you was this. {Taking paper from an envelope from his inside pocket.) It's simply gorgeous. Charlie. What is it ? Clav. Well, I've a friend on the London Morning News, q^wqI I got Mitchell to see he had a cop}^ of the book. Charlie. Yes ? Clav. (handing him the proof). He sent me a proof of his review by this morning's post. That's it. He's done us well. Charlie. By Jove. That's luck. Clav. Yes. It's a storming notice. Charlie. Things are going to move a bit now the book's coming out. It'll waken people up to a realization of the kind of thing that's done in the name of profit. Clav. (impatiently). Yes. I haven't time to stay now. ' I must get on with my round. Charlie. Of course. Don't let me detain you, old man. I'll read this at once. Thanks for bringing it. Clav. Right you are. Good-bye. I'll go this way. It's shorter. (Opening door at hack R.c.) Charlie. Do. Good-bye. (Exit Clavering, r.c. Charlie unfolds the proof and reads it, moving towards the door at hack. Enter LOMAX.) LoMAX. Mr. Thompson has just come in, sir. (Crossing to desk.) Charlie. All right. Let him know Mrs. Wil- DEALING IN FUTURES. 41 cock's there. I shall be in the laboratory if he asks for me. (.Exit Charlie, r.c. Lomax fusses about the desk for a moment. Jabez comes in L. takes off his hat and coat and hangs them by the door. Lomax stands to attention at the desk.) Jabez. Good morning, Lomax. Lomax {deferentially). Good morning, sir. (Pause.) Jabez. Anything fresh there ? Lomax. Not very much, I'm afraid. Jabez. There's not much trade about, these days. (Sitting at his desk.) Lomax. No, sir. Cranbury's haven't sent their cheque again. Jabez. Haven't they? Well, Lm waitmg no longer. You'd better ring up Charlton and get him to take it in hand. You might attend to this lot. (Handing him some letters.) Lomax. Yes, sir. Jabez. That's all. (Lomax coughs.) Well, what is it ? Lomax. That matter of young Dowden, sir. You said you would speak to him to-day. Jabez. Oh, yes, of course. (Takes down speaking tube and blows : then puts it to his mouth.) Send Dowden to me. (Replaces tube.) Let me see- invoice desk, isn't he ? Lomax. Yes, sir. Jabez. You're quite sure he's getting restive ? Lomax. Absolutely. I thought he'd ask for a rise last week. It's been on his tongue three or four times or I shouldn't have mentioned it to you. A look from me generally keeps them quiet if they only half mean it. Jabez. What does he get ? Lomax. Twenty-two shillings. Jabez. What's he hkely to ask for ? Lomax. I shouldn't wonder if he asked thirty, 42 DEALING IN FUTURES sir. For one thing it's three years since he had a rise, and for another he keeps his mother. Jabez. Has she got any money ? LoMAX. I fancy not, sir. Jabez. Good. That'll k^eo him steady. That's the kind we want, Lomax. He can't afford to take risks. Good worker of course ? Lomax. Excellent. None better. Jabez. Age ? Lomax. Twenty-eight, sir. (A knock.) Shall I go, sir ? Jabez. No. Stay here. (Calling.) Come in. (Enter Dowden, l. ; he is obviously extremely nervous over his " carpeting " before his employer. Lomax stands above desk.) Jabez (beaming paternally on him, -with his elbows on the arms of his chair and his finger-tips together.) Come in, Dowden. Don't be nervous, man. No one's going to hurt you. (Dowden shuts door and moves towards Jabez.) This is one of those pleasant interludes in the life of an employer which make it worth the living. You have pleased me, Dowden. Dowden. Yery good of you to say so, Fm sure, sir. ^ Jabez. Mr. Lomax has spoken most favourably of you. Good lad, good lad. We've been putting our heads together and we're going to raise your salary to — twenty-five shillings a v/eek. Dowden. Thank you, sir. Thank you very much indeed. (Nervously.) Only, sir, I was going to ask Jabez (interrupting). Don't thank me, Dowden. You owe it to your own good v/ork. Go on in the same way and you may come to me again in a year's time, Fll see you right. Mr. Lomax just make a note of that, will you ? That will do, Dowden. Dowden. Yes, sir, and thank you, sir. (Exit Dowden, l.) DEALING IN FUTURES. 43 Jabez. Settled his hash for a year anyhow, Lorn ax. Just let me know of any similar symptom.s in good men. It always pays to take tims by the forelock in these little matters. LoMAX. It does that, sir. You prove it. You've the cheapest office staff in the country for its size. Jabez {chaffing him genially). You think so, Lomax ? LoMAX. I'm sure of it, sir. Jabez. I sometimes think the cashier makes a big hole in the salary list, eh, Lomax ? Lomax {alarmed). I'm sure I Jabez. Yes, yes. I'm not thinking of cutting you down, Lomax. Only, one has to fix a Hmit. You might bear that in mind. Lomax. Yes, sir. Jabez. That will do then. (Lomax turns to go.) Oh, by the way, is Mr. Charles in his room ? Lomax. I think so, sir. Jabez. You might ask him to step this wa}^ Lomax. Yes, sir. (Exit Lomax, r.c. Jabez opens a side drawer in his desk, takes out a cigar box, selects and lights a cigar, and goes to fireplace and turns hack to fire ivith the air of a man who, having done a good morning s work, may legitimately permit himself some reward. Enter Charlie, r.c.) Jabez. Good morning, Charlie. Hope you slept well. Charlie. Good morning. Can't say I did. Jabez. You'll soon get over that. At your age a night's rest more or less makes no difference. Did I interrupt some particularly promising experiment ? Charlie. No. I haven't been experimenting to-day. I've been engaged with some of the men. Jabez. Really ? Well, there's no accounting for tastes. You're a queer fish. 44 DEALING IN FUTURES. Charlie. You didn't send for me to tell me that, I suppose ? Jabez {blowing smoke and watching it rise). Eh ? No, I suppose I didn't. Have a cigar ? Charlie. No thanks. Jabez. No ? Well, now that you've come to your senses the thing is to see about what arrange- ments we must make. To begin with, I think we'd better fix you up a desk in here. Charlie (wearily). Yes. Jabez. We'll have that table out and one put there. Or is that too near the fire for you* ? Charlie. Oh, anywhere. Jabez. You see, you'll have to work under my supervision at first and then begin gradually to take the responsibility off my shoulders. I shall be glad of a rest, Charlie. Charlie. Don't you think you are taking a good deal for granted ? Jabez. Why ? Charlie. I told you I'd not slept. A man can do a lot of thinking in eight hours. Jabez. What, you mean to say Charlie. That I've thought the whole thing over. Jabez. Well ? Charlie. It's not good enough. It's — it's dis- honourable. Jabez {angrily). Dishonourable, sir ? What the devil do you mean ? Charlie. I'm the only bulwark the men have. If I marry Rosie — sell myself to you — it means push- ing the men back into "'their old places just when they're ready to make some show of fighting and want all the help I can give them. Jabez. For God's sake do leave the men out of it for one moment. It's you I'm talking about, not them. You gave me your word last night. Charlie. I know I did. DEALING IN FUTURES. 45. Jabez {sneeringly). You needn't talk so much about honour. Charlie. Oh, there are things I value more than an empty phrase. That hft accident made me reahze once again how much I'm needed and how httle I could do if I married Rosie. I've seen Mrs. Wilcock this morning. Oh, it's pitiful ! Jabez. Now, could I help the Hft breaking down ? Charlie. No, but you could help a hundred other things happening, only safety apparatus costs money and men are cheap. Last night's accident was only the last straw. The men need me and I won't forsake them. Jabez. Who's asking you to forsake them ? I'm only asking you to carry out your engagement. Good heavens, it's a chance any man in his senses would jump at. Charlie. I'm sorry I don't agree. Jabez. You play fast and loose with me, my lad, and I'll ruin your father for it. Don't forget that. Charlie. Look here, suppose I let you force my hand. Suppose I married Rosie under compulsion, what sort of a time do you fancy she'd have ? What's to prevent me taking it out of you by cruelty to the daughter you love ? Jabez {recovering his temper). No you don't, my boy. It's very clever of you. Upon my word, I'm glad to hear you talk hke that. After all, you've the makings of a business man about you, but I'm too old a bird to be caught by a bluff hke that. You know very well you're talking through your hat. You couldn't do it. Besides, even if I wasn't sure of you I'm sure of Rosie. I'm a long way more frightened for you than I am for her, my boy. She's managed me all her life, and if there's going to be any bullying when you're married, take my word, it's not you that'll do it. You see, I know Rosie. Charlie. Very well then. You compel me to take other measures. 46 DEALINCx IN FUTURES. Jabez. What, still fighting? You're getting quite pugnacious, Charhe. {Crossing to cupboard l. and unlocking it.) Charlie. Don't laugh at me. I won't be laughed at. Jabez. Then don't make yourself ridiculous, my boy. Every man feels like you do when he's booked his passage. But most of us have it out with our- selves. We don't talk about it, but we all get a fit of funk and want to back out if we can. It's a natural reaction. Come, pull yourself together, Charlie. Have a whisky and soda. {He takes a decanter, glass and syphon from cupboard and places on top of it.) Charlie (for a moment half laughing at himself). You make very certain that I'm not an embryonic wife-beater. Jabez {with the decanter in his hand). You won't ? Charlie. No thanks. (Jabez mixes a drink for himself.) Jabez {meditatively). Yes, I think a desk will do very well in place of that table. Charlie. I refuse to sit at it. Jabez. Oh, I don't think so. {Walking up with drink and sitting l. of fire, putting glass on mantel.) You see, Charlie, your father's so very respectable ; he simply radiates respectability. Gad, I shall never forget old John's face when he was up in town with me for the first time and I took him to the Empire. He got used to it later on, though. But it's different down here. He's the champion bazaar opener of the district. Quite a great man in his way is old John. Yes, we can't have a scandal, Charlie. It really would not do. Charlie. You must do as you like about that. It's his affair. And anyhow it's absurd to talk of it as a scandal. Jabez. He wouldn't say so. How shockingly unfiHal you are ! DEALING IN FUTURES. 47 Charlie. Possibly. I've myself to look after. Tabez. Still fighting ? {He takes a dnnk.\ Charlie Yes. If I can't touch you through Rosie. I car touch you through something still dearer ^^jIbez (sarcastically). And what may that be? Charlie. Your pocket. Tabez. What do you mean ? , Charlie. Oh. you shall know. Ill give you fair warning. Jabez (rising). What is it ? t\..,^\^ Charlie. The men. They're not blind. Thev re no longer the passive fools their fathers were. Tabez. Well ? . . ^ Charlie. You were pleased to be angry with me last night when I explained why I undertook labora- tory work. I can t help that. My sympathies are all with the men, not the master. If it comes to a fight I shall be on their side, not yours. You— oh, I don't expect you to understand, but with me, altruism is a religion. Tabez. A religion ! Is that all t Charlie. What more can it be ?_ Tabez My dear fellow, religion is a respectable pastime for Sundays, but it's got nothing to do with every-day hfe except for parsons and old women In this country, you can be , a Mohamnaedan or a Mormon if you hke, but I can't see that it will make any material difference in your ordinary ^nduct Charlie. Can't you ? I'm different. My religion is a thing I beheve in on weekdays, a thmg i acr upon and hve up to as far as I can. Jabez. Aren't we gettmg away from the point . Charlie. The point is the men. , Jabez. Exactly. I'^ have no tampering w^th the men, Charlie, no putting ideas above their station into their heads. , x n iu.o fV^af Charlie. Ifs fifty years too late to talk like that^ As a matter of fact, I'm going to address a meeting 48 DEALING IN FUTURES. of the men to-night. And I shall take their part. They know it. I've the gifts of the mob orator. (Chuckle from Jabez.) God knows it's a sorry gift to boast about, but it will serve my turn. I can sway a crowd. I've done it time and again in de- bates. Jabez. (Pause, then) Where is this meeting ? (Crosses to desk, sitting to face audience.) Charlie. The Assembly Hall. I am as certain as I stand here that I can work my will upon them. I shall advise a strike, and strike they shall unless Jabez. Oh, you've got your price then ? (Sneer- ingly.) Charlie. Yes. It's cowardly, but I have. It's against my convictions, but, as you say, I have my price. Jabez. What is it ? Charlie. Freedom of action. (Crosing towards Jabez.) Laboratory work and no other and release from the mockery of an engagement with Rosie. . (Enter John, l.) Jabez. Hullo, John. Good morning. Glad you called. (Charlie goes to fireplace.) John. Good morning, Jabez. (Crossing to Jabez.) Yes, I called about the monthly accounts. I've got the total here, if you'll sign me a cheque. Jabez (grimly). You'd better talk to Charlie about that. John. Charhe ! Jabez. Yes. Here he is with a bee in his bonnet as usual. Look at him, John. John. What is it, Charhe? Wasn't everything settled last night ? Jabez. Oh, you're not quite up to date, John. We move fast nowadays, don't we, Charhe ? Charlie. I wish to God we did. (Sitting on arm- chair L. of fire.) DEALING IN FUTURES 49 Jabez. The latest is that some fools amongst the men want to strike. Lord knows what they think they'll get by striking, but let me introduce you. John, to the strike leader. John. Charhe, you couldn't Jabez. Oh, he beheves in variety, John, that's what it is. Last night Rosie, this morning no Rosie. The men are the latest love. It's off with the old and on with the new. John. Don't be hard on me, Jabez. I can't bear it. Jabez. I've to look after number one, John. John {appealingly). Charlie ! Charlie. It's no good, father. I can't betray my principles. Jabez. And I can't sign that cheque, John. Per- haps Charlie's prepared to be your banker. John. It means (Sitting l. of desk.) Jabez. Oh, I know what it means. (Rises, goes c, drains glass and turns on Charlie.) Listen to me, Charhe. I'll have no meddling with the men. That's all over and done with. Understand ouce for all that it's hands off the men. I'll have no dis- content amongst my men. I don't want men who'll think. I want men who'll work. (Doim l. to cup- board and putting glass on top of it.) Charlie. To think is to be discontented. Dis- content is divine. Jabez. Don't talk rubbish, sir. We are told to be content with the station into which it has pleased Providence to place us. Charlie (passionately). Virtue on ten thousand a year ! This is your rich man's God, who is at home to you in his church one day a week from 10.30 to 12 and 6.30 to 8. You don't go because you hope to get a little dirt washed off your shop-soiled soul. You go because it isn't respectable to stop away. For six days you serve Mammon, and on the seventh you follow your gregarious instincts and crowd mto D 50 DEALING IN FUTURES. a church in your sleek broadcloth, and only the effort of keeping a properly sanctimonious expression on your v/ell-fed face prevents you from falling asleep in your padded pew. That's your middle-class re- ligion and your middle-class Providence. Don't talk to me of Providence till you can show me a Providence which provides. Jabez. Rank blasphemy, sir. {Going up to Charlie, settling his collar irritably.) Don't talk to me as if I was a nonconformist. Charlie. Nonconformist ? No, you conform to everything. You began in a rut and you'll stay in the rut till you die. Jabez. A rut ! Charlie. Yes, the gutter where you poke in shme for sixpences, afraid to look up at God's blue sky or about you at your fellow-men lest some one else should pick up a sixpence while your head's turned. Oh, you conform right enough. You do nothing else. You conform to Success and Respect- ability, and they're the stronghold of the Devil. Jabez {recovering his temper, sitting down at desk and rubbing his hands genially, looking at John, laughing.) Sit down, Charlie. Charlie. Thanks, I can say all I have to say standing. Jabez. Oh, but this is delightful. As good as a pantomime, isn't it, John ? Go on, Charlie. It's amusing^ you and doing me no harm. Charlie. Yes, that's the pity of it. It's doing you no harm. You'll have your dog's day. You'll go on accumulating the money you've no need of because you're in the grip of the money habit. You couldn't Stop 'fobbing your impotent employes if you vv'anted to. The looting instinct's in your blood. Jabez {calmly.) I am doing what I conceive to be my duty, the duty of every man — to make as much as I can bv honourable and businesslike methods. DEALING IX FUTURES. 51 My father did it and hi? father before him. My son would do it if I had one. Charlie. Hereditary money-grubbing. That's typical. It's our idea of progress and self-reliance and thinking things out for one's self. {He pauses, hand on mantel, looking into fire.) Jabez (pause). What, dried up? Well, I've let you have your iiing. You are like any other child, Charhe. You've been hurt and you're crying, only you put your squeal into words. A child only howls, while the natural impulse of the adult is to curse something or somebody. Have yon said all you wanted to ? John. Charlie, for Heaven's sake Charlie {facing Jabez). Oh, I'd more to say. But that will do. I've wasted my breath, but it's done me good to give it you straight from the shoulder for once. After all. you're not a millionaire or a trust president. You're precious small beer as employers go nov/adays. Jabez. Oh, so that's all right, and I'm put in my proper place, eh, Charhe ? And vou've let off steam now instead of to the men to-night. Charlie. That's as may be. I've not done yet. Jabez {to John). This fellow's solved the problem of perpetual motion, John. What is it this time ? Charlie {taking a small hook from his pocket). Do you know what this is ? Jabez. It looks like a book. Charlie. It is. Just have a look at it. {Offering it.) Jabez. I'm not interested in literature. Charlie. This will interest you. {Holding the book out towards him.) Jabez {snatching it and reading the title). " An Inquiry into the Condition of the Workers in our Chem- ical Industries, by Walter Clavering, M.D." What's this ? Clavering ? This isn't Hke what I know of Clavering. I wonder what his ^am.e is ? 52 DEALING IN FUTURES. Charlie. He hasn't got a game, as you call it. Clavering's in earnest about it. [Going up to fire.) Jabez. I'm afraid you're a bad judge of char- acter, Charlie. (Turning over the pages.) What's this ? " Illustrated by Photographs by Charles Bunting." Charlie. Oh, yes. I had a hand in it. Jabez. You damned young scamp. Charlie. That's an advance copy. The book's not published yet. Jabez. I'll take good care it never is. Charlie (smiling). It will be pubhshed to-morrow. Here's a proof of a review of it by a chum o\ Claver- ing's. This review will appear in a London paper to-morrow. It will tell you all about the book. Shall I read it to you ? (Taking a proof sheet from his breast pocket.) Jabez. Go ahead. Charlie (reading from the proof as if selecting de- tached sentences, mumbling a few words between each). " The book bears on every page the sign-manual of sincerity. Its facts are an incontrovertible proof of the inadequacy of our factory law administration to cope with the rapacity and unscrupulousness of manufacturers. A book to read not only with the eyes, but with the heart. The author shas drawn public attention to a festering sore in our midst. The great heart of the pubhc cannot fail to be moved by such an exposure of man's inhumanity to man. Something must be done to counteract such infamy. There can be no delay." (Mumbling, as if looking for a further selection.) Jabez. Stop ! This is intimidation. It's black- mail. Clavering — you know very well he came to me with some cranky respirator he'd patented. This is his revenge on me for refusing to take up his rotten patent. It's libel. I'll ruin him for it. Charlie. Hadn't you better read the book before you talk like that ? DEALING IN FUTURES. 5.3 Jabez. That for your book. {Thvowing it in the paper basket.) I'll buy up the edition. I'll suppress it. I'll Charlie. No, you won't. The publisher happens to be an honest man. Jabez. What the devil do you mean by taking a hand in this game ? Haven't I trouble enough as it is with the factory acts and their confounded regu- lations ? The men are pampered like lords with their grandmotherly legislation. Charlie. They're poisoned, and you know it. You refused to use his safety device, and he's naturally taken the only course open to him of arousing public opinion and forcing your hand. I was glad to help him. Jabez. You young idiot. Can't you see through his game ? He wants to make .money out of his patent safety respirator. He doesn't care a hang for the condition of the men. If he chd, he wouldn't have put the price up by patenting his thing. No, my friend, he wants to do his philanthropy on twenty- five per cent, terms at some one else's expense. Jabez (con.). And you fall into his trap like the blessed innocent you are and help him to blackm.ail me. Charlie. You're wrong. Everybody's not as mercenary as you. You've got so used to expressing every idea in terms of L.S.D. that you can't under- stand a man's doing anything from higher motives than money. Jabez. Look here, Charlie, where do you think I'd be if I took up every notion that every crank brings along to me ? The men are insured, aren't they? Charlie. Yes, and a bad bargain the insurance people have of it. Jabez. Then what do the fellows want with safety devices ? They get their compensation. The busi- ness won't stand more expense, Charhe. You'd 54 DEALING IN FUTURES. know that if you'd done as I wished and taken an interest in the management. Goodness knows it's hard enough to get profits as it is. Charlie, Then don't try. Close down. Jabez. And throw the men out of work ? Fine remedy that 'ud be. They'd thank me for that, wouldn't they? (After a slight pause, rising.) That doctor's got to be muzzled though. Charlie. You can't muzzle a man. You can only muzzle dogs. Jabez. Can't I ? I'll bet you I get him to sup- press that book if it's really dangerous. I'll have a look at it in a moment. And I'll tell you some- thing more, my lad. If I catch you meddling with the men, I'll make your father sit up for it. Charlie. I shall address the men to-night. Jabez. I don't think you will. Look here, John, you'd better try again. See if you can't make a better job of it than you did last night, and I'll sign the cheque in the morning. If not (John makes a gesture of appeal to Charlie.) Charlie. It's no good, father. Jabez. I leave it with you, John. Take him off to your laboratory, Charlie, and talk it over. (Charlie drops fonvard to John.) Charlie. Come along. Dad. (Exeunt Charlie and John, r.c. Jabez loosens his collar mechanically, puts his hands in his pockets, takes a handjul of coins from one pocket, rolls it in his hands and transfers it to the other ; then sits at his desk, takes up the speaking tube, blows and spfaks through it.) Jabez. Just telephone to Dr. Clavering and say I'll be obhged if he will step round here and see me at once. (He replaces the tube. Jabez takes the book from the DEALING IN FUTURES. 55 paper basket and turns its pages over while speaking to LoMAX. Enter Lomax, r.c.) Jabez. Oh, about that accident last night, Lomax. (Looks up from the hook and turns round on his ehair to face Lomax.) Lomax. Yes, sir. I was coming to you about it when you were disengaged. Mrs. Wilcock is wait- ing in the office. Jabez. Who's Mrs. Wilcock ? The widow ? Lomax. Yes. Jabez. Oh, I can't be bothered with her. That's the insurance people's job. Send her away. (Lomax hows and is going l., he turns as Jabez rises, crosses to fire and speaks again.) Have you — do you happen to have heard what the men make of the accident ? Lomax. No, sir. That is, not' exactly. Jabez. Speak up, man. Are they grumbling ? Lomax {coughing). I understand that there have been a few remarks passed. Jabez. Strong ones, eh ? Um Got your potebook ? Lomax. No, sir. Lll {Turning towards door L.) Jabez. Never mind. Sit down here. (Lomax sits in Jabez's chair.) Write. (Lomax bends to write.) Wait a moment. {Lomax looks up.) When's the inquest fixed for ? Lomax. Wednesday, sir. Jabez. That's the 17th. Funeral the next day, I suppose ? Lomax. Yes, sir. Jabez. Very well. (Motioning him to write. Lomax bends over and ivrites. Jabez crosses to desk and stands over Lomax, dictating.) " In view of the distressing accident which oc- curred last night, it has been decided to grant a half- holiday to the entire staff with full pay on the after- noon of the i8th inst., in order " 56 DEALING IN FUTURES. LoMAX. One moment, sir. Jabez. Got that ? LoMAX. " The i8th inst." Yes, sir. Jabez. " In order to give all an opportunity of attending the funeral ceremony." Finished ? LoMAX (pause, then, rising). Yes, sir. Jabez {crossing hack to fire). Do you chance to know, Lomax, if there happens to be a football match that afternoon ? Lomax (coughing deprecatorily). I don't follow the sport myself, but I fancy it's the usual mid-week day. Jabez. Ah. Have twenty copies of that notice typed and bring them here. I'll sign them myself. Then send them out to the departments, and — er — you might see that one comes in the way of the reporters at the inquest. Lomax. Yes, sir. (Going.) Jabez (sitting). Oh, and,* Lomax! (Lomax turns at door.) Just mention casually to one or two of the foremen that attendance at the funeral is not comptrtsory. No names will be taken. And let me know if you happen to Iqarn how the announce- ment is received. Lomax. Certainly, sir. Jabez. That will do. (Exit Lomax, l. Jabez continues interested in his hook. A whistle at the tuhe. Jabez replies and puts it to his ear, then speaks down it.) Jabez. Show Dr. Clavering in here. (Replaces tuhe. Presently Dowden opens the door L. and Dr. Clavering enters. Dowden closes the door after him and goes without speaking. Jabez rises and meets Clavering genially.) Jabez. Ah, come in, doctor. I'm glad you were able to come so quickly. (They shake hands.) Clavering. I'd just got in when your message DEALING IN FUTURES. 57 'came, so I was able to come at once. How are you, Mr. Thompson ? Jabez. Eh ? (Surprised at the professional tone.) Oh, I'm all right. There's never anything the matter with me. Clav. Oh, it's not yourself, then. I understood you wished to see me personally. Is there another accident case ? Jabez. Oh, no, there's nothing wrong. Er — have you a few moments to spare ? I'd like a word with you. Clay. I'm at your service unless I'm telephoned for from the surgery. Jabez. Sit down, doctor. Clay, [sitting r. of fire) ^ Thank you. Jabez (sitting l. of fire). I understand you've been writing a book. Dr. Clavering ? Clay. Oh^ that's it, is it ? You've heard from my collaborator ? Jabez. Your collaborator ? Clay. Mr. Bunting. . Jabez. Oh, yes, of course. Just so. Now, speak- ing as a business man, doctor, I suppose you'd some object in writing that book ? Clay, (grimly). I want better conditions for chemical workers. Jabez. I said " speaking as a business man." Clay. Well, sir ? Jabez. I've not read the book yet. But I sup- pose I shan't be wrong in assuming it deals largely with the advantages of the Clavering patent respir- ator. Clay. Naturally. Jabez. I thought so. Of course, you're convinced of its advantages ? Clay. I use it myself. So does Mr. Bunting in his laboratory. Look at us. We're well. Then look at your men. They don't use it. I'd just come from seeing another of them, when I got your message. 58 DEALING IN FUTURES. That man is being slowly poisoned to earn his bread. It's a typical case. Jabez. It's very sad, very sad. Well now, doctor, can you propose anything ? Clav. I can propose the respirator. It's not ideal, I don't pretend it is — but it 'all give the poor devils a chance. Jabez. We must certainly have the respirator. Clav. (surprised). You refused it when it was offered you. Jabez. My dear sir, I get safety devices sent me every day. I can't use 'em all. You never told me you used your thing yourself. It makes a world of difference. And you hadn't written a book about it. Clav. I see. Jabez. I thought you would. Come, we're get- ting on famously. Now if I adopt the respirator, do you think the book need be published ? Clav. {curtly). Yes. Jabez. Oh, come, doctor, don't be stupid. Clav. (pause). I'll tell you what I will do, if you like. I'll wire the pubHsher to postpone its issue and have a note put in stating that it's been adopted here. But -I'll not cancel my book. Jabez. That might do. Clav. (reflectively!). It'll be a good advertisement for the respirator. Jabez. And a good thing for the patentee, eh, doctor ? Clav. I hope so. Jabez. I've no doubt of it. So that's satisfactory to both parties. By the way, doctor, don't think me rude if I put a rather personal question to you. I've a reason for asking. Do you consider your practice here a valuable one ? Clav. That rather depends on what you mean by valuable. It's numerous enough in all conscience. There's plenty of ill-health about. But valuable, DEALING IN FUTURES. 59 no, I can't say it is. Your men get paid too little and they die too fast for a doctor to grow fat amongst them. Jabez. I've a notion we might come to some arrangement. I've had an idea of adding a medical officer permanently to the staff. What do you say, doctor ? Clay. I'll think it over. Jabez {rising). Do. With the respirator at v\^ork you should have more leisure on your hands for re- search, eh, doctor ? I know vv^hat beggars you rhedical men are for experiments, and you can't have over much time at present. Suppose you telephone me later. We shan't quarrel over terms. Or, stay, come in to dinner to-night ? {Rises and crosses R.) Clav. Thanks. I will. {Rising and going l.) Jabez. You quite understand what this means, doctor ? Clay. Er — -in what way ? Jabez. Well, it's the end of your literary career. I want no more books. Clay. Nor I. This one will put the respirator on the market ; that's all I want. Jabez. I thought as much. There's nothing like candour after you've gained your point. [Sitting at desk.) Oh, by the way, there's a meeting of the men to-night. Clay. So I hear. Jabez. I'm going to speak there. Clay. You ! Jabez. Yes, and I want you to come with me. Clay. It's not quite in my hnc, sir. Jabez {persuasively)'. Oh, just to tell 'em about this little arrangement of ours. Clay. I see. Jabez. Charlie's speaking, you know. Some one's got to speak against him. Er— I'll see it's a hand- some salary, doctor. 60 DEALING IN FUTURES. Clav. I'll be there, Mr. Thompson. (Moving to R.c. hy desk.) May I ask you something ? Jabez. Yes ? CLxW. Is Charhe still engaged to Miss Thompson ? Jabez. I beUeve so. Clav. Oh ! Jabez. What was it ? Clav. I was going to ask if I might speak to her myself. Jabez. You hadn't much success last time, had you ? Clav. No. There's no harm in asking two or three times. Jabez. Oh, you can ask. Clav. But Charlie Jabez. As you say, there's no harm in asking. But understand it's between you and her. You're not to use my name. Clav. That's all I want. Jabez. I'll see you to-night, then ? Clav. Yes. Jabez. Right. Good morning, doctor. Clav. Good morning, sir. {Exit Clavering, l. Jabez mhs his hands together with a satisfied air. Lomax enters l. as Clavering goes out. He has a number of papers in his hand.) Lomax. Will you sign the announcements now, sir ? Jabez {genially). I wiU that. {Commences to sign as Lomax hands them to him one by one.) Curtain. ACT III. The same evening. The ante-room of the Assembly Hall — a dingy place, used on occasion as a dressing- room, and containing a small deal table and a few battered cane-bottomed chairs. Two gas-brackets project from the wall at the right and isuire netting protects the lights. A door r. gives access and one c. up three stairs leads on to the platform. A rough hat-rack under the left gas-jet bears two ancient bowler hats and a cloth cap. Their owners are three members of the mens executive — Robert Jones, James PuLLEN and Joseph Livesey. Pullen, the owner of the cap, is smoking a clay pipe. He is a sioutish man of about forty, obviously no teetotaller, with a moustache and an obstinate jaw. Jones arid Live- sey, the leaders of the strike movement, are perhaps ten years his juniors and just a shade more educated in their accents. All are roughly dressed, but in their evening, not their working clothes. Livesey wearing a very much cut away black coat and a waist- coat adorned "with a silver watch chain. Pullen has a scarf and no collar, but the other pair wear celluloid collars over cotton shirts. Pullen is sitting at the table sideways, r. ; Jones has his back to the fire, l. and Livesey is walking about above table. Pullen. What A says is this 'ere. Maister Thompson's a jolly good sort. Gives us 'af-day Thursday to play us in, with full brass an' all. 'And- some, A calls it, 'andsome. (He emphasizes by striking his fist on the table.) 61 62 DEALING IN FUTURES. Jones. Tha's a fule, Jim PuUen. Tha's allays drawin' red 'errings acros.s the trail. Tha makes me tired. 'Ere's a mate o' ours walks into th' 'oist same as it might be thee or me an' th' next minute 'e's gone to kingdom come. Thompson gives us an 'at-day off to attend th' buryin' if us wants to, an' theer's thou an' a few like thee ready to lick 'is boots because 'e's yeard us snarlin' an' chucked us a bone ^o shut our jaws on. Can't tha see 'is game ? LiVESEY (behind table). Oh, A'm noan sayin' nought about that. That were an accident like what might 'appen anywheers. It's th' whole system we want altered. PuLLEN. System is it ? Aye, tha find me a system as'll give us more beer an' more easy time to sup it in an' A'm with thee. LiVESEY. It's not so much for usselves as for our childer. PuLLEN (shuffling irritably). A'm noan v/ed. 'Ad more sense. If you young 'uns will marry, you mun iak' consequences. LiVESEY (sitting behind table R. side). The kids! That's the point, Jones. We're ould. PuLLEN (contemptuously). Thee ould 1 Why, lad, tha were nobbut breeched t'other day. LiVESEY (turning on him). Yes, we are — we're ould as life goes here. We're done. But th' kids have a reeght to summat better. We canna see our way out. We're nobbut a silly crowd o' fules. PuLLEN (interposing). Tha are that. LiVESEY (contimmig). But if we could nobbut educate our childer. They'd find a way. PuLLEN. 'Ere, mister, my lad, what's tha gettin' at ? The kids gets their schooling, don't they ? Jones. Aye, till they're legally ould enough to coom to work an' forget in a year all as they've 'ad shoved into their yeads in eight. (Spits in fire.) They've a reeght to a better chance than we 'ad an' we can't give it 'em. We're not paid enough. We're DEALING IN FUTURES. 63 iivin' on hope, an' hope's hke ivy. It cHngs to ruins. LiVESEY. That's good. Tha remember yon an' give it 'em in theer in thy speech. [Jerking his thumb towards the door c.) Jones (going on as though speaking to a meeting). Th' bosses 'ave got us down and they're sitting on our yeads. It's about time we woke oop an' showed 'em the working man's not such a blamed fool as 'e looks. LiVESEY. Aye. Now tha' talkin'. Jones. We keep body an' soul together and that's the limit. {Enter r. Job Alcott, another workman, quite roughly dressed and apparently of the most poorly paid class. He looks ill.) Alcott. Good evening. LiVESEY. Tha doesn't look so rosy to-neeght, lad. What's oop wi' thee ? i Alcott [wearily, hanging his cap up, then sitting in chair R. hy table). Oh, th' usual thing. You all knov/. Can't relish my food an' yeadache an' faint feelin'. Rum taste in my mouth, an' all. LiVESEY. Aye.' We all know that taste. PuLLEN. Beer's th' stuff to wash it out o' your mouth. [Crosses, to fire and sits R. of it.) Alcott. A saw doctor last neeght. Jones. Aye. What's 'e say ? Alcott [bitterly). Tould me A'd no chance if A went on 'ere. Get soom fresh air for a month or two, 'e says. Get away out o' this into country, 'e says. Country ! Likely isn't it ? A'm a labourer. Ask off for a month, supposin' A'd got th' brass to keep me which A've not, an' A'll get sack sharp. They've only to send to the next big town an' a thou- sand poor chaps as is out o' collar 'ull coom trampin' out after my bloomin' eighteen bob a week an' be damned glad to get it an' all. LiVESEY. Shame ! 64 DEALING IN FUTURES. Jones. It's a cryin' shame. Why, look at me wi' eighteen bob a week same as him, an' the mouths A've got to fill. Ma missus as 'ad eleven of 'em in 'er time, A were wed at eighteen, A were. PuLLEN (quarrelsomely). Tha's never got eleven childer. Don't try to kid me. Jones. Not hvin', A haven't. Some of 'em's dead — thank God. LiVESEY. Coom, draw it mild, lad. Yon's blas- phemy. Jones (sullenly). No, 'tisn't, neither. A do thank God for it. Poor httle beggars, they're better dead nor alive an' starvin' wi' th' rest. A man can pull his belt oop a hole an' suck a pebble if he's hunger- mad. Th' kids can't do that. LiVESEY. They wouldn't need if tha'd keep off the booze. Jones (fiercely). A don't drink. A don't like beer. It turns my 'stomach. (Up sta^e round R.) PuLLEN (rising disgustedly and walking aivay as if from a portent). Call thasel' a mon and don't like beer ? (He turns to light his pipe at a gas, hut fails to get it through the wire, mutters " Blast," and takes a match out and lights up.) LiVESEY. Then what dost take it for. Jones. What for ? To mak' me forget. (Going down to sit l. of table.) A must forget soomtimes. A'd go crazed if A didn't forget. (Sitting.) Pullen (at the gas): Blast. LiVESEY. It's a weary hfe. Alcott (rising- and going up c). It's a hell. Damn Thompson. Damn him an' all that's hissen. Jones (protestingly) . Damn him, aye, but -not all that's hissen. That means Miss Thompson, an' she's a blessed angel. Pullen (coming forward). Bah ! Her an angel, her wi' her 'ard proud mug goin' about as if we was dirt at 'er feet. Jones. Aye, an angel, lad. That's her ; 'ard as DEALING IN FUTURES. 65 nails she looks an' proud as L"cifer ; but tha's no^ wed • tha's not seed yon wench sittm i thy kitchen nussin' thy kids. Maybe she's never sent thee ftne grub when tha was sick. PULLEN. A'm never sick. , ,, , , Tones No, but she'd know if tha wert, an tha d know she knowed it, an' all. Not as she maks a fuss about it It's all done quiet. A dunno if Thompson 'isself so much as knows a word about it. Alcott (L.C. at back). Aye, that's reeght. Am sorry A cursed 'er. Theer were a two three bottles o7 champagne an' soom jelly an' stuff wait.n to whoamfor^me last neeght when A get theer from doctor Not a word about who'd sent them, but 'X^^rt^^. 'Ere lads, A feels bad. Took sudden, some road. T TVFSEY What's to do ? PULLEN. A dunno. Thowt o' that champagne, A reckon. Enter R. Mrs. Jones-« sUgki. ^'^^'J^^'l r^'^^t about tuny wUh prnchedjealures and ff'.J^'';^ wears clogs, and a drab cloth sktrt. '^f * /"'""^f^ blouse and a shawl over her head. «« «« ~;^;„„^' ^ crosses quickly to Jones and shakes his shouUler violently, speaking in a shrill voice.) Mrs. Jones. Thee coom whoam, Bob Jones. Coom 'ome, A tell thee. , , , , Alcott. Eh ! missus, what s to do^ Mrs. Jones (turning on him). Thee shut tha ugly mug, and don'\ put thy spoke in atween man an wife. (To Tones.) Now then, art coomm ? TnnFs What's OOP wi' thee, lass .' Mrs Tones Tha knows. A tould thee A'd coom an fe?ch^°hee whoam if tha dared to shove tha no^ in at meetin'. Strike indeed, tha great leatheiyeart . >0 aSif m b &£ ^ fl (^-^ !^' ■" '^L- Sni ^ p; 53"^'^ nil o ' •I ^ o Pi "S r-t-g o o -r) ^ ft '/J o 2 ffl ?: Printed by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS H 014 642 914 2