Mr Littlejohn

Mr. Li by MARTIN FLAVIN HARPER BROTHERS Publishers NEW YORK and LONDON MR. LITTLEJOHN Copyright, 1940, by Martin Flavin Printed in the United States of America All rights in this book are reserved. It may not be used for dramatic, motion or talking-picture purposes without writ ten authorization from the holder of these rights. Nor may the book or part thereof be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writ ing except in the case of brief quota tions embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Harper Brothers, 49 East 33rd Street, New York, N. Y. IO-O FIRST EDITION TO SALLY MR. LlTTLEJOHN v I IT WAS A FINE, MILD OCTOBER DAY IN 1937, but a very trying one for Horatio Littlejohn, president of Rosydent Inc., producer of those celebrated aids to health and beauty, viz, Rosydent Tooth Paste Save the surface and nature will do the rest, Rosydent Mouth Wash A breath like new-mown hay, and Rosydent Hair Tonic A hair on the head is worth two on the collar. In the morning, from his olive-wood office in the executive building of the mammoth plant in Newark, he had talked over the phone with Mr. Weatherbee, associate counsel for Rosydent in Washington, D. C. Mr. Weatherbee said Well, it looks like they have got us out on a limb and are going to put the screws on. Hum said Mr. Littlejohn and reached for a soda bicarb tablet which was handy on the desk. If Hemlock could get this Treasury tax evasion suit out of the way, continued Mr. Weatherbee, we might wriggle you out of a Senatorial investigation. Mr. Littlejohn munched the soda tablet and said nothing. The fact is, Mr. Weatherbee went on cheerfully, Rosy dent is in bad with the administration and thepublic too on account of your alleged violation of the Wagner Act, and its just good politics to wham it. What do you advise inquired Mr. Littlejohn. Caution, replied Mr. Weatherbee, and after a long silence he repeated, Caution. At this moment Mr. Mooney, the plant manager, came into the office and said that a gang in the hair tonic unit had pulled the fuses and sat down, and he added in a choking voice The sons of bitches the sons of bitches ... I beg your pardon, Mr. Little ohn. He sank into a chair and mopped his forehead. Mr. Little ohn hung up the phone in the midst of something Mr. Weatherbee was saying. There was now a great commotion in the street, and a stone shattered the glass in the window and came to rest on the desk. Its the police said Mr. Mooney. Theyre clearing the street. Ah said Mr. Little ohn and nodded vaguely. Miss MufFet, his secretary, opened the door. She was pale but calm. There are six men here from the Treasury Department, she said. They wish to examine the books. Let them, said Mr. Little John. At this point Mr. Harrison Hemlock of Hemlock, Hemlock Hemlock, general counsel for Rosydent, called up to say that the conference with the C. I. O. would be continued at two oclock. We must be firm, he said. When things had quieted down in the street Miss Muffet brought Mr. Little ohn his lunch which consisted of a glass of milk and a lettuce leaf between two thin slices of whole-wheat bread. Afterwards he had a level teaspoon of soda in warm water. Still, he felt far from well. At two oclock he entered the conference room where a committee of striking tooth-paste employees was already as sembled. Good afternoon, gentlemen, he said. Some of them tittered and onemade a noise like a cat. Mr. Little ohn felt something rising in him and knew it was his blood pressure. He thought, I must be careful, very careful. Dr. Schwartzkopf had warned him to avoid excitement, and he felt for the amyl nitrite ampoules which he had been advised to carry in his pocket. He sat down in his big chair at the head of the long table with Mr. Mooney at his left and Mr. Hem lock at his right. He had a letter in his hand which he had not yet opened...