<h3>THE RETURN OF ALADDIN</h3>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_030.jpg" width-obs="79" height-obs="100" alt="Decorative N" title="" /></div>
<p>ight had fallen over the city, but the work in the little tailor shop on
the Bowery still went on. The toiling widow of Mustafa, the incorporated
valet of the Bachelors' Aid Society, who had died the winter before,
leaving his family with nothing but a few debts and his ironing-board,
was wearily struggling with the last batch of undarned socks received
that morning from the association. She sighed deeply as she labored, for
her fingers were sore with many stitches.</p>
<p>"Heigho!" she murmured, sadly. "Why<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</SPAN></span> don't these bachelors get married
and have this sort of thing done at home, I wonder? This is the
ten-thousandth sock I have darned since Christmas, and as for the
suspender buttons, the good Lord only knows how many of those I have
sewed on. There ought to be a law compelling men to marry on penalty of
having to do their own mending."</p>
<p>Poor woman! In the weariness of her spirit she little dreamed that she
was growing petulant with her bread and butter. Suddenly she heard the
door of the little shop without open, and her son Aladdin entered, a
great, buoyant lad of twenty, cheerful of spirit and a good deal of a
giant physically.</p>
<p>"Well, Worthless," she said, with an affectionate glance into his fine
eyes, "where have you been all day?"</p>
<p>"Looking for work, mother, as usual," said the young man, throwing a
small package on the table. "And you?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"The same old drudgery, dear," she replied, with a sigh. "Did you have
any luck?"</p>
<p>"No, mother dear, not a bit," replied Aladdin.</p>
<p>"Do you mean to tell me that in all this great city there is no work of
any kind that a hale, hearty, hungry boy like you can get to do?" she
demanded.</p>
<p>"Plenty of it, mother," replied the boy; "plenty of it, but nothing in
my special line. Lots of snow-shovelling jobs and a position as guard on
the Subway were offered me, but I cannot demean myself by taking
anything of that sort, Mummsy dear. Father in the last days of his life
spent too many hours teaching me how to raise mushrooms under glass for
me to dishonor his memory by undertaking labor that is beneath that in
artistic quality, and just at present I cannot find anybody in all this
city who wants a helper in mushroom culture."</p>
<p>"Then we shall have to go supperless to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</SPAN></span> bed," sighed the poor woman.
"Not a penny in the house and the pantry bare. Oh, Aladdin, Aladdin, why
will you not give up this false pride of yours and get some kind of a
job that will at least feed yourself and help me pay the rent?"</p>
<p>The boy was silent. He had had this same argument with his mother time
and time and again, and he was quite aware of the futility of speech in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</SPAN></span>
trying to overcome her objections to what she termed his incorrigible
idleness.</p>
<p>"What have you in the package?" the woman asked, after a prolonged<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</SPAN></span>
silence.</p>
<p>"I don't know," replied Aladdin. "I picked it up outside the stage-door
of the Helicon Theatre. I saw it lying in the snow and I brought it
along with me. It is probably some kind of a make-up box belonging to
one of the performers. If there is any reward offered in any of the
morning papers for its return, maybe I shall earn a few honest pennies
by taking it back to its owner."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>His mother busied herself with the string, and in a moment it came
untied and a small brass lamp rolled out of the brown-paper covering. It
was very dirty and much battered.</p>
<div class="figright"><SPAN name="ILL_031" id="ILL_031"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_031.jpg" width-obs="435" height-obs="500" alt=""HUMPH!" SAID SHE, SCORNFULLY" title="" /> <span class="caption">"HUMPH!" SAID SHE, SCORNFULLY</span></div>
<p>"Humph!" said she, scornfully, gazing at the homely little object. "I
don't think anybody will be foolish enough to offer a reward for a
trumpery little thing like that."</p>
<p>"Ah, well," said Aladdin, gazing out of the shop window at the scurrying
crowds on the sidewalk, "it might be worse, Mummsy dear. We at least
have a roof over our heads this night, which is more than some of those
poor wretches have, and unless I am very much mistaken this storm that
is upon us is going to be a blizzard."</p>
<p>In very truth a blizzard had descended upon the city. All the
transportation lines were blocked, and over on Broadway all traffic had
been tied up for hours. Thanks to the elevated-railway structure, this
portion of the Bowery still remained passable.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</SPAN></span> Even this was
momentarily piling higher and higher with the snow, and the wind was in
one of its most violently rampageous moods.</p>
<p>"How would you feel if your little Aladdin had a job as a chauffeur on a
night like this?" the lad went on.</p>
<p>The poor woman shuddered and was about to reply, when a terrific crash
from without drove all thought of words from her mind. Hastily running
to the window, she, too, peered out into the street for a moment over
Aladdin's shoulder, but only for a moment, for in an instant the boy was
up and making for the door of the little tailor shop. A heavy limousine
car lay overturned upon its side upon the walk, its wheels having
skidded on the slippery, snow-covered pavement, and striking the curb,
toppled completely over. Aladdin, with the agility of a small monkey,
soon mounted to the upper side of the overturned vehicle, and, opening
the door, had assisted a beautifully arrayed young woman, possibly a
year or two<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</SPAN></span> younger than himself, from within, and after her, fuming
and condemning his luck and the world in general, a gray-haired and
apparently irascible old gentleman.</p>
<p>"Mother!" cried Aladdin, as the girl fainted in his arms, "come quickly.
The young lady has fainted."</p>
<p>The good woman needed no second bidding. She hastened to his side, and
the limp form of the young girl was carried in her strong, motherly arms
into the little back room behind the tailor shop, which formed their
only home. Shortly afterward the old gentleman came also, ushered in by
Aladdin.</p>
<p>"She is safe?" cried he, with an anxious glance at the prostrate form of
his daughter.</p>
<p>"Perfectly so, sir," replied Aladdin's mother. "She has only fainted.
Won't you sit down, sir?" she added. "You look a little shaken up
yourself."</p>
<p>"Thank you," said the old gentleman, gazing around the room vainly in
search of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</SPAN></span> a chair. "Ah—what shall I sit down on, madam?"</p>
<p>"Try the stove, sir," laughed Aladdin. "It may warm it up a bit."</p>
<p>The old man gazed frowningly at the boy, not relishing such levity at so
serious a moment, and Aladdin, slightly embarrassed by his own
frivolity, tried to cover his confusion by seizing the lamp that had
fallen from the package, and polishing its highly oxidized surface by
rubbing it on the patched knee of his trousers. And then a strange thing
came to pass. At the moment of the first attrition between his knee and
the little brass lamp the room seemed to fill with a gray mist and in
its gathering depths Aladdin perceived the huge figure of a blackamoor
gradually taking shape.</p>
<p>"What the dickens!" muttered the lad to himself as the strange
apparition rose up before him, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he saw
clearly. "What do you want?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</SPAN></span> he added, springing to his feet as the
genie approached him.</p>
<p>"I have come in response to your summons," replied the blackamoor. "Give
your orders, sir!"</p>
<p>Aladdin grinned broadly at this. The idea of his ever giving orders to
anybody seemed so very absurd. Nevertheless, he fell in with the spirit
of the hour.</p>
<p>"All right, Sambo," he returned. "Get this gentleman a chair. There may
be an extra one up-stairs in the music-room."</p>
<p>The blackamoor disappeared for an instant and shortly returned bringing
with him the desired piece of furniture.</p>
<p>"Thank you," said the old gentleman, as he took his seat with an uneasy
glance around him. The situation was not altogether without alarming
features. As for Aladdin, you could have knocked him over with a
palm-leaf fan, so astonished was he at this unusual development.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I wish I'd asked for something to eat," he muttered to himself.</p>
<p>"So do I," observed the old gentleman. "I'd give five hundred dollars
just now for a boiled egg."</p>
<p>"You ought to get one studded with diamonds at that price," laughed
Aladdin, and then just for a joke he turned to the blackamoor. "Get this
gentleman five hundred dollars' worth of boiled eggs, Sambo," he said.</p>
<p>"Hard or soft, sir?" asked the genie.</p>
<p>"Three minutes," said the old gentleman.</p>
<p>Sambo made a low salaam to Aladdin, and departing, he returned four
minutes later followed by seven other blackamoors just like him, each
carrying a large wicker hamper on his shoulders. These they deposited in
various parts of the room, and, gravely opening them, disclosed to the
astounded gaze of Aladdin and his unknown guest hundreds of eggs,
steaming as though freshly taken from the pot.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figleft"><SPAN name="ILL_032" id="ILL_032"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_032.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="372" alt=""THIS IS A HALF-PORTION, SIR," SAID SAMBO" title="" /> <span class="caption">"THIS IS A HALF-PORTION, SIR," SAID SAMBO</span></div>
<p>"This is a half-portion, sir," said Sambo, addressing Aladdin. "We will
return with the remainder in a minute, sir."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Just wait a second," said Aladdin, scratching his head in bewilderment
at the sight of so many eggs obtained with such ease. "It may be that
these will be enough for the time being. I'll ask the old chap. Excuse
me, Mr.—er—Mr.—er, I didn't catch your name, sir."</p>
<p>"I am Major Bondifeller, president of the United Mints of North
America," replied the old gentleman. "A person not to be trifled with,
young man, as you probably know very well."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Aladdin gasped, as well he might. Here was old Rufus Bondifeller,
reputed to be the richest man in the world, a guest in his mother's
fast-failing little remnant of a tailor shop.</p>
<p>"Gud-glad to mum-meet you, sir," stammered Aladdin. "Do you think
there's enough eggs here to satisfy your hunger?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</SPAN></span> There appears to be
two hundred and fifty dollars' worth here now, but if you wish the rest
served immediately—"</p>
<p>"Great heavens, no!" roared Bondifeller. "When I said I'd give five
hundred dollars for a boiled egg I was merely speaking figuratively. A
rich man can't eat any more boiled eggs at a sitting than a poor man;
fact is, half the time he can't eat as many without a bad attack of
angina pectoris."</p>
<p>"All right," said Aladdin, resolved to carry off the extraordinary
situation with an outward nonchalance, in spite of the inner turmoil
that kept his brain whirling. "You needn't bother about the rest of
those eggs now, Sambo. Major Bondifeller can get along on these."</p>
<p>The blackamoor and his companions disappeared even as they had come,
apparently irrespective of doorways, and utterly regardless of walls.
They seemed merely to melt through whatever solid substances there might
be between themselves and annihilation.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</SPAN></span> As for Major Bondifeller, as he
observed these strange developments, his face grew set and rigid. He
eyed every movement of the blackamoors with uneasy attention until they
had vanished from sight, and then his flashing eye was riveted upon
Aladdin. Finally he spoke, sharply and to the point.</p>
<p>"Well," he snapped, "how much?"</p>
<p>Aladdin started. The icy tone of the speaker's voice chilled him, and it
was so peremptory that he felt for the moment as if he had been stung by
the lash.</p>
<p>"How much what?" he said, finally, summoning up all his courage to face
the apparently angry millionaire.</p>
<p>"Don't try to evade the point," retorted the Major, coldly. "Let's get
through with the business as quickly as we can. It is plain as a
pikestaff to anybody having half an eye that, taking advantage of our
mishap, you have lured my daughter and myself in here for your own
profit. No man<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</SPAN></span> keeps such a villainous-looking gang of niggers on hand
with an honest purpose. So what are your demands?"</p>
<p>Aladdin laughed in spite of his disturbed frame of mind at the Major's
suspicions. It was such an absurd idea that he could be at the head of a
badger-gang, and yet, after all, he could not deny a certain sort of
reasonableness in the notion from Major Bondifeller's point of view.
Again taking the lamp casually in his hand, more as an outlet for his
embarrassment than for any other reason, he gave it a second rub and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</SPAN></span>
started to answer the Major's question, but, as before, the mist again
appeared, and from its musty depths the blackamoor took shape and
salaamed before him.</p>
<p>"Well, what is it now, Sambo?" demanded Aladdin, frowning at the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</SPAN></span>
intruder.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="ILL_033" id="ILL_033"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_033.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="367" alt=""YOU RUBBED THE LAMP, I BELIEVE?"" title="" /> <span class="caption">"YOU RUBBED THE LAMP, I BELIEVE?"</span></div>
<p>"Your orders, sir," said the blackamoor. "You rubbed the lamp, I
believe?"</p>
<p>Aladdin's heart leaped into his mouth. <i>He had rubbed the lamp twice,
and twice had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</SPAN></span> it brought him aid!</i> Surely, there must be some magic
about this.</p>
<p>"What if I did rub the lamp?" he queried, in a tremulous voice. "What's
that got to do with you?"</p>
<p>"I and my comrades are slaves of the lamp, as your Highness very well
knows," replied the blackamoor. "Whatever your commands, the United
Order of Amalgamated Genii must obey."</p>
<p>"<i>Hooray!</i>" cried Aladdin, dancing a wild fandango about the room. "<i>Who
wants the handsome waiter?</i>"</p>
<p>As the full import of his new-found treasure dawned upon his mind, the
lad's ecstasy bade fair to surpass all bounds, but the chilling voice of
Bondifeller served to calm his effervescing spirit.</p>
<p>"I want nothing but your proposition, so that I may get out of this den
as speedily as possible," he was saying. "I am not a man to beat about
the bush, and I realize that you have got me. What is it you demand?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"First and foremost, civility," said Aladdin, boldly, a sense of his own
power sweeping over him and giving him confidence. "I guess you'll find
that harder to negotiate than a check for a considerable sum, Major
Bondifeller, cash being a commoner commodity with you than civility.
Now, as a matter of fact, sir," the lad went on, "I had your daughter
carried in here out of that raging blizzard so that my mother could give
her the attention she needed. You I brought in also with no more
knowledge of who you were, and with no more idea of financially
profiting by your accident, than if you had been one of those
unfortunate tramps out on the Bowery there. But now that you have put
the idea in my mind that, perhaps, after all, nobody ever does anything
unselfishly in this world, I will make certain demands of you. To begin
with, you may pay me two hundred and fifty dollars for those eggs, and
as a mere act of ordinary generosity, you may tip the handsome<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</SPAN></span> waiter
fifty dollars. I understand, too, sir, that you are the proprietor of
these ten city blocks in which I and about twenty thousand of my
neighbors are housed?"</p>
<p>"I believe I do own considerable property hereabouts," said the
millionaire, sullenly, "though I can't say offhand whether I do or not.
My agents look after my smaller investments."</p>
<p>"Well," said Aladdin, "it don't make any difference to me whether you
remember what you own or not. The results so far as you are concerned
will be the same. You will have these ten blocks of houses torn down and
replaced by model tenements, turning the alternate blocks into city
parks for the children to play in."</p>
<p>"But suppose I don't own 'em?" protested Bondifeller.</p>
<p>"What you don't own, Major Bondifeller," returned Aladdin, "is too
trifling a detail for us to worry over. So long as you don't own me I
don't care a pickled herring<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</SPAN></span> what you do own. If it turns out upon
investigation that any of these pig-pens on these ten city squares
belong to anybody else, buy 'em."</p>
<p>"Buy 'em?" snarled Bondifeller. "How can I buy 'em if the other man
won't sell?"</p>
<p>"With money," said Aladdin; "the same stuff you always use to buy
anything else you happen to want, from an oil-painting or a Japanese
porcelain up to a State legislature or a man's conscience."</p>
<p>"And if I don't agree?" demanded the old man, a truculent glare in his
eye, an eye before which the so-called powerful men of the earth had
trembled more than once in the past.</p>
<p>Aladdin returned the gaze unflinchingly. Once more he rubbed the lamp,
and the genie appeared as before.</p>
<p>"Sambo," said the lad, calmly, with a wink at the slave, "is dungeon
number thirty-seven on the fifteenth tier below the Subway occupied
to-night?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"No, sir," replied the blackamoor, with a grin.</p>
<p>"Very well, then," said Aladdin, coldly; "you may provide a special
escort of fifteen of your best and most reliable genii and have them
take this young lady to her home at Zoocrest, Central Park East, taking
care that nothing shall occur either to frighten her or to make her
uncomfortable in any way. Meanwhile, you yourself, with five of our
biggest huskies, will file this gentleman here away for the night in
dungeon number thirty-seven, as aforesaid."</p>
<p>"As your Highness directs," replied the obedient blackamoor.</p>
<p>In a moment the still prostrate form of Miss Bondifeller was borne
gently from the room and placed in a large touring-car that suddenly
materialized without, and shortly Bondifeller, sitting ruefully alone in
the little back room, could hear it chugging up the snowbound street at
as lively a pace as any racer ever struck upon the smoothest of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</SPAN></span>
boulevards. It was indeed an illuminating exhibition of the remarkable
resources of this extraordinary young man, and, strange to say, a
contemplation of it gave the old gentleman a curious sense of pleasure.
To be sure, he appeared to be in rather a bad predicament, but all the
same it was a novel sensation to him to encounter somebody who
apparently did not fear him. This was an emotion that he had not enjoyed
for many years, and it was not without its titillation.</p>
<p>"I guess you've got me, young man," he said, rather meekly, when Aladdin
returned.</p>
<p>"I guess that's a good guess," retorted Aladdin, nonchalantly. "There's
only one answer to the question that confronts you, and you've lit on it
the very first time. I don't intend to be at all vindictive, Major
Bondifeller," he continued, "but a little lesson in arbitrary power
isn't going to do you a bit of harm; so just make up your mind to take
your medicine, and let's save our breath to talk of more important
things.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</SPAN></span> First thing, I'm hungry. Mother, please lay covers for three—"</p>
<p>"But, my son," began the poor woman, who, in caring for the unconscious
girl, had seen nothing of what was going on, "we haven't a morsel of
food in the—"</p>
<p>"Do as I say, mother," said Aladdin, quickly. "Sambo will attend to the
rest."</p>
<p>"Gone clean out of his head, poor laddy!" murmured his mother,
hastening, nevertheless, to fulfil his commands, merely as a means of
keeping him quiet. Meanwhile, Aladdin, seizing the faithful lamp, gave
it another rub, and when the blackamoor appeared he ordered a royal
repast—so royal, indeed, that old Major Bondifeller's eyes nearly
popped out of his head as he ran over the order. A few suppers of that
sort would have bankrupted even so flourishing a concern as the United
Mints of North America.</p>
<p>"Any favorite dish you'd like to add, Major?" asked Aladdin, genially.</p>
<p>The old man's eyes filled with tears at this<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</SPAN></span> exhibition of kindness,
even at this moment when they were practically enemies at swords'
points. He could not remember in his own line of effort in many years
that he had himself ever extended any consideration to a fallen foe.</p>
<p>"Why, I don't know," said he, his voice growing husky with emotion.
"Sometimes in the midst of all the luxury I am enjoying to-day my mind
runs back to those early days on the old farm when my mother's apple
pies seemed to be the perfection of culinary art."</p>
<p>"Say no more, Major; you shall have your wish," laughed Aladdin. Then,
turning to the waiting attendant, he added, "Sambo, you may add to that
order one full portion of pallid pippin pie for pale people, with a
glass of buttermilk on the side."</p>
<p>An hour later the happy little party—for Major Bondifeller had warmed
up considerably under the exhilarating influence of his strange
surroundings—broke up with a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</SPAN></span> sense of repletion that neither Aladdin
nor his poor mother had enjoyed for many years. Indeed, it is doubtful
if the young man himself had ever had so square a meal as that in all
his life before. Over the cigars, Bondifeller tried to take up the
thread of their before-dinner discourse.</p>
<p>"As for that business suggestion of yours—" he began, flicking the ash
airily from the end of his cigar, but Aladdin stopped him.</p>
<p>"I make it a rule never to talk business at or immediately after dinner,
Major," he said, reprovingly. "The hour is late and dungeon number
thirty-seven awaits you. I trust you will sleep well. Sambo, show this
gentleman to his room."</p>
<p>"But—" began Bondifeller.</p>
<p>"On your way, Sambo!" said Aladdin. "And, remember, that if this
gentleman turns up missing in the morning you lose your union card.
Good-night!"</p>
<p>When Aladdin awoke the following morning<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</SPAN></span> it was only natural that he
should regard the events of the night before as nothing more than a
fantastic dream, and he was chuckling softly to himself over its
manifest absurdities, when all of a sudden he spied the lamp on the
table of his humble little room. He eyed it keenly for a few minutes,
and then springing from the bed he seized it in his left hand and began
rubbing it feverishly with his right. As had invariably happened before,
the genie responded on the instant.</p>
<p>"Your orders, your Highness," he said.</p>
<p>Aladdin scratched his head in sheer bewilderment, but, pulling himself
together by a strong effort of will, he answered, somewhat haughtily:</p>
<p>"Send a maid to my mother's room immediately with instructions to
replenish her wardrobe at once with whatever things she may choose to
ask for, and you may yourself bring me my new frock coat, with the
lavender trousers and the white piqué vest.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</SPAN></span> You may lay out my best
shirred-front shirt and my mauve tie, and see that my silk socks match
the latter. I shall wear my patent-leather shoes this morning, and if my
silk hat shows any signs of wear, get me a new one."</p>
<p>"Yes, your Highness," said the blackamoor. "And will your Grace
breakfast?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Aladdin. "Have breakfast on the table in one hour from
now—fried eggs, buckwheat cakes, tenderloin steak, and a little salt
fish. I desire, also, to have Major Bondifeller at breakfast with me,
and, mind you, tell him not to keep me waiting."</p>
<p>"As your Highness wills," said the blackamoor, retiring.</p>
<p>Aladdin's orders were fulfilled to the letter, and after the breakfast
was over he summoned the genie with a considerable flourish, which
deeply impressed his guest.</p>
<p>"Now, Sambo," said he, "I want you to take the limousine, go up to the
St. Gotham Hotel and inform the proprietor that Monsieur<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</SPAN></span> Le Duc di
Lumière will arrive there, with his mother the Countess de Bougie, and
suite, precisely at noon, and desires the best accommodations the house
can provide. To inspire confidence you would better take a few diamond
necklaces with you and deposit them for safe-keeping at the office; and
while you are about it, I'd like a couple of thousand dollars for
pocket-money."</p>
<p>As he gave these orders Aladdin scarcely dared look at the genie, for
fear of rebellion, but they seemed to make no impression at all upon the
blackamoor, who merely bowed his acquiescence and handed Aladdin a bag
full of gold pieces. As for the Major, who had passed a sleepless night,
he merely blinked amazedly at these astounding occurrences. Finally, he
found his voice. "You are the Duc di Lumière?" he asked.</p>
<p>"At your service," said Aladdin.</p>
<p>"And may I ask what you are doing here in these squalid quarters?"
continued the old man.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I am conducting a personal investigation into the lives of the
unfortunate," replied Aladdin. "By some extraordinary good chance the
Fates have thrown you, who are largely responsible for the awful
conditions I find here, into my hands, with power to control your
movements. Within a radius of ten city blocks, Major Bondifeller, there
are enough human souls living in squalid misery to populate a New
England city, and yet you pay no more attention to them, nay, not as
much, as you pay to a fly that enters your house and buzzes around your
pate. You give the fly some personal attention, but in this matter of
your tenements you do nothing whatsoever, leaving it to an agent to care
for your smaller interests. I believe those are your own words. Now,
sir, it is in my power to keep you here for as long a time as I wish,
but I don't want to make a prisoner of you. I want to give you a chance
to do something for your fellow-men, especially those who can never<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</SPAN></span>
hope to repay you save in gratitude. You heard my views last night. I
ask nothing for myself, for, as you see, I do not need anything for
myself. I have but to order what I wish, and it is here."</p>
<p>"Your model tenements are a useless ideal," retorted Bondifeller. "Only
last year, at enormous expense, I put bath-tubs in all my tenements, and
my agent reports that the tenants use them to store their coal in."</p>
<p>"And do you know why?" demanded Aladdin.</p>
<p>"Ignorance, I presume," said Bondifeller, "allied to a love of squalor."</p>
<p>"Nothing of the sort!" retorted Aladdin, pounding the table with his
fist. "It is because you spent all your appropriation on bath-tubs and
never even thought of putting one penny into the construction of
coal-bins."</p>
<p>Bondifeller was silent. He had never thought of that before.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Well," he said, ruefully, "I suppose I must agree, but it will cost
twenty millions of dollars."</p>
<p>"What's twenty millions to a man who controls the United Mints of North
America?" demanded Aladdin.</p>
<p>"But if you keep me here I shall not control the United Mints of North
America!" shouted Bondifeller, pounding the table just a little on his
own account. "John W. Midas and Silas Reddymun have combined against me,
and if I am not at the board meeting at ten o'clock this morning I am
down and out."</p>
<p>"Phew!" whistled Aladdin. "By Jove! Major, I'm glad you mentioned it in
time. It gives me an opportunity to show you just what this power of
mine amounts to."</p>
<p>He rubbed the lamp and the genie appeared.</p>
<p>"I desire the immediate presence here of Colonel John W. Midas and Mr.
Silas Reddymun, Sambo," said Aladdin.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"To hear is to obey," replied the slave, making off.</p>
<p>"You don't mean to say—" gasped Bondifeller.</p>
<p>"Major Bondifeller," said Aladdin, "I am not the saying kind. I am a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</SPAN></span>
plain, common garden doer. I admit that this time I am stretching things
a point, but you'll find my orders are obeyed."</p>
<p>As indeed they were, to the astonishment of all concerned, not even
excepting Aladdin himself, who trembled at the audacity of his last
command. Within forty minutes the two gasping financiers whose presence
had been commanded sat before them. The genii had apparently taken them
just as they found them, for Reddymun still wore his bath-robe and Midas
was in his shirt-sleeves, with only one side of his face shaved.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="ILL_034" id="ILL_034"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_034.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="449" alt=""WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?" THEY DEMANDED" title="" /> <span class="caption">"WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?" THEY DEMANDED</span></div>
<p>"What the devil does this mean?" they demanded, in scarcely varying
terms.</p>
<p>"It means," said Aladdin, calmly, now very sure of himself—as he had
every right<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</SPAN></span> to be, considering the already successful manifestation
of his powers—"it means, gentlemen, that the United Mints of North
America have passed into the control of a dark horse, who is familiarly
known to himself as Aladdin, Duc di Lumière, and that unless you
magnates get together inside of one hour and do something to clean up
the squalor and misery of this city as represented by these cesspools of
humanity termed the tenement districts, you will spend the balance of
your days in something worse. It is now twenty-seven minutes past eight.
You may go into executive session at half-past eight, and at half-past
nine I shall be ready to escort you either to your board-room at the
office of the United Mints of North America, or to the dark but wholly
secure safe-deposit vaults that I have designed for your accommodation
in the subterranean suburbs of this little burg."</p>
<p>With these words, Aladdin departed.</p>
<p>At noon that day Monsieur Le Duc di<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</SPAN></span> Lumière, with his mother the
Countess de Bougie, and suite, arrived at the St. Gotham Hotel.</p>
<p>"There is a telegram for your Grace," observed the proprietor, as he
entered the royal salon. He handed over the little yellow envelope.
Aladdin tore it open hastily and read:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">M. Le Duc di Lumière</span>, <i>Hotel St. Gotham</i>:</p>
<p>The Board of Directors of the United Mints of North America
have secured control of sixty blocks in the heart of the
tenement district of New York and will begin at once the
erection of thirty first-class model tenement houses,
costing two million apiece, each building fronting on all
four sides upon a complete city square to be devoted to
public parks for the people and playgrounds for the
children. Can you supply janitors? Answer, collect.</p>
</div>
<p><span style="margin-left: 31em;">(Signed) <span class="smcap">Silas Reddymun</span>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 33em;"><span class="smcap">John W. Midas</span>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 35em;"><span class="smcap">Rufus Bondifeller</span>.</span><br/></p>
<p>A year later, while Aladdin and Mr. Bondifeller were returning from the
opening ceremonies of the wonderful new tenements of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</SPAN></span> lower New York in
the latter's motor, the aged financier gave his young friend's hand a
quick and affectionate pressure.</p>
<p>"Duke," said he, his voice trembling with happiness, "you have made me
the happiest man in the world. When I looked out upon the sea of faces
of those tenants of our new houses, as you made your address, and saw
the look of hope in eyes that a year ago were filled with threatening
and despair, it gave me such a thrill as I never had before. Is there
anything else you can suggest wherein a man can use a few more millions
for the benefit of humanity?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Aladdin. "Now that you have done something for the poor, a
few millions spent for the amelioration of the habits of the rich would
be a great boon."</p>
<p>"And how would you go about it?" asked the old man.</p>
<p>"I don't know, Major," replied Aladdin. "It is a much harder proposition
than the other."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"And meanwhile," said the old man, tremulously, "how can I show my own
gratitude to you personally for all you have done for me?"</p>
<p>Aladdin looked across the car at the fair face of Marjorie Bondifeller,
whose lovely eyes fell as they caught his glance.</p>
<p>"Well," said Aladdin, blushing a rosy red, "you might make me your son."</p>
<p>"Ah, my boy," sighed the Major, as he shook his head sadly, "I am afraid
that is impossible. I don't think your mother would marry a
cross-grained old curmudgeon like me. I've been a widower for so many
years now that I have become set in my ways, and—"</p>
<p>"But there's another way round, ain't there?" cried Aladdin.</p>
<p>And there was, and that is how, my dear children, Marjorie Bondifeller
happened to become the Duchess di Lumière.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr class="full" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />