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Page 27 text:
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(First Prize) H ENDRICK GRATON, or more commonly hailed as “Hen” Graton, was struggling with a collar, which by some mistake had found a place among his own, and he was sweetly uttering words of condemnation on “that square headed” French laundryman. After working himself into a white heat, he suddenly thought of getting a larger size, and he laughed to think he had not thought of it before. At this moment the butler appeared. “ Beg pardon, sir, but your father desires that you come down immed¬ iately, sir. Also, your breakfast is waiting, sir.” “Well, show it around the library till I come down,” and Hen reach¬ ed for another collar. As he came into the dining-room, John Graton gazed steadily at him with admiration in his eyes. He was a good-looking, typical college- bred specimen of an American youth. There was nothing to distin¬ guish him from the average son of a New York bank president, unless it was his well developed physique. His father was proud of his only son, but no one else knew it. “Good morning, Dad,” said Hen cheerfully. “Good morning, my son.” “James said you wished to see me,” he remarked after a time of silence. “Yes,” answered his father, “I do. Hendrick, do you realize that you are twenty-two years old tomorrow? And do you realize that you have been out of college exactly five months and in that time you have not worked five minutes? Also, do you realize that it is time you were doing something?” ‘‘ W liy. Dad, l—1-. ’ ’ “Wait until I am through please. Now understand, I’m not lectur¬ ing you, I’m only leading up to what I want to tell you, which is this: I’ll wager that you can’t take twenty-five dollars, see one strange land, and, before a year has passed, return home with a thousand dollars and a wife. If you win there will be a two thousand dollar bank check for you and a two hundred and fifty a week position waiting down at the New York National. But if you lose, you will be compelled to keep on work¬ ing and supporting yourself until my death. What 1 ask you to do is nothing exceptional. Now if you have something to say, say it.” Hen had a hundred things to say, but what he said was not one of the hundred, for he found himself telling his father, “Dad, I’m beginning to realize that I’ve been about as lazy and shiftless as a coon in a water¬ melon patch, and I — well, I — Dad, I’ll go you on that bet!” .— 27 —-
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Page 28 text:
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T H E ENTERPRISE ’17 He leaned forward with a sudden determination, and sat on the edge of the chair, so poised, until his father rose and put his hand on his shoulder. If the old adage “Variety is the spice of life,” be true, then Hendrick Graton was well and highly seasoned. Eleven months had passed since the day of the wager, and he had been in five different states and now he was in the sixth, California. He had taken his twenty-five dollars, given it to the agent in New York, and asked to go as far west as he could. The kind man gave him a ticket to Guthrie, Illinois, and while the train was waiting at Chicago —for Guthrie was twenty miles from there—Hen took a stroll around the station. As the engineer could not wait ten minutes for him, he left. That was the beginning of his luck. His next piece befell him on the University football field. He was getting along swimmingly and the five dollars that was promised if he would play as a IT. C. member, was nearly his; but just as he was kicking the deciding goal, his foot slip¬ ped—! He managed to procure his coat and trousers as he ran through the gym. When he had out-distanced his frenzied pursuers, he sat down in a park to take an inventory. All he had was his suit, a foot-ball outfit, and a pair of spiked shoes. So he pawned all that was not his own, purchased a pair of shoes and a hat, and with a few remaining cents, sent the pawn ticket to the football manager at the University. This was his only affair in Chicago. A later month found him in Colorado, and it also found a new Hen Graton. He was healthy and happy and willing to work at anything, and he had saved fifty dollars. He figured it up. “Fifty, or one-twen¬ tieth of wliat I must have, and I’ve ten months left to raise the other nine fifty. But at this rate I’ll only have three hundred at the end of my year. Ah, ’tis a cruel world,” and he sighed, smilingly. If all the attempts that Hen made, were to be briefly written, this would be a volume and not a short story. In short, he dabbled in every¬ thing that looked like money—herded sheep, kept books, spent a week as a circus acrobat, tried the “movies,” was deputy sheriff for a day, did a little plumbing, clerked in a hardware store, nearly joined the navy, did a little gold mining, ran an elevator, and posed as a chauf¬ feur—so it went, ad infinitum. The beginning of the eleventh month and he was with a wholesale establishment in San Francisco. He was sent ' to San Diego with instruc¬ tions to buy four tons of raisins, but he found better raisins could be procured around Fresno so he went there and did his buying. The man¬ ager thanked him for his good buy and then fired him for not obeying orders. After receiving his salary, he wandered up to Union Square and sat down to think things over. On the other end of the bench there sat. a man who could have passed as Hen’s twin brother. Hen did not notice this, however, and presently the stranger stood up, yawned and walked — 28 —
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