by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER XIII
How's Woodie and Sadie comin' on? Ah, say! you don't want to take thethings she does too serious. It's got to be a real live one thatinterests Sadie. And, anyway, Woodie's willing to take oath that she putup a job on him. So it's all off.
And I guess I ain't so popular with her as I might be. Anyway, Iwouldn't blame her, after the exhibition I made the other night, forclassin' me with the phonies. It was trouble I hunted up all by myself.
Say, if I hadn't been havin' a dopey streak I'd a known something wasabout due. There hadn't a thing happened to me for more'n a week, whenPinckney blows into the Studio one mornin', just casual like, as if he'donly come in 'cause he found the door open. That should have put meleary, but it didn't. I gives him the hail, and tells him, he's lookin'like a pink just off the ice.
"Shorty," says he, "how are you on charity?"
"I'm a cinch," says I. "Every panhandler north of Madison Square knowshe can work me for a beer check any time he can run me down."
"Then you'll be glad to exercise your talents in aid of a worthy cause,"says he.
"It don't follow," says I. "The deservin' poor I passes up. There's toomuch done for 'em, as it is. It's the unworthy kind that wins my coin.They enjoys it more and has a harder time gettin' it."
"Your logic is good, Shorty," says he, "and I think I agree with yoursentiments. But this is a case where charity is only an excuse. Theladies out at Rockywold are getting up an affair for the benefit ofsomething or other, no one seems to know just what, and they've put youdown for a little bag punching and club swinging."
"Then wire 'em to scratch the entry," says I. "I don't make anyorchestra circle plays that I can dodge, and when it comes to fightin'the leather before a bunch of peacock millinery I renigs every time.I'll put on Swifty Joe as a sub., if you've got to have some one."
Pinckney shook his head at that. "No," says he, "I'll tell Sadie shemust leave you off the program."
"Hold on," says I. "Was it Sadie billed me for this stunt?"
He said it was.
"Then I'm on the job," says I. "Oh, you can grin your ears off, I don'tcare."
Well, that was what fetched me out to Rockywold on a Friday night, whenI had a right to be watchin' the amateur try-outs at the MaryboroughClub instead. The show wasn't until Saturday evenin', but Pinckney saidI ought to be there for the dress rehearsal.
"There's only about a dozen guests there now, so you needn't getskittish," says he.
And a dozen don't go far towards fillin' up a place like Rockywold. Say,if I had the price, I'd like a shack where I could take care of more orless comp'ny without settin' up cot beds, but I'll be blistered if I cansee the fun in runnin' a free hotel like that.
These amateur shows are apt to be pretty punk, but I could see that,barrin' myself, there was a fair aggregation of talent on hand. The starwas a googoo-eyed girl who did a barefoot specialty, recitin' pomes tomusic, and accompanyin' herself with a kind of parlor hoochee-coocheethat would have drawn capacity houses at Dreamland. Then there was apretty boy who could do things to the piano, a funeral-faced duck thatcould tell funny stories, and a bunch of six or eight likely-lookin'ladies and gents who'd laid themselves out to prance through what theycalled a minuet. Lastly there was me an' Miriam.
She was one of these limp, shingle-chested girls, Miriam was. She didn'thave much to say, so I didn't take any particular notice of her. But atthe rehearsal I got next to the fact that she could tease music out ofa violin in great style. It was all right if you shut your eyes, forMiriam wasn't what you'd call a pastel. She was built a good deal on thelines of an L-road pillar, but that didn't bar her from wearin' one ofthese short-sleeved square-necked, girly-girly dresses that didn't leaveyou much in doubt as to her framework.
Yes, Miriam could have stood a few well-placed pads. She'd lived longenough to have found that out, too, but they was missin'. I should guessthat Miriam had begun exhibitin' her collar-bones to society about thetime poor old John L. fought the battle of New Orleans. Yet when shesnuggled the butt end of that violin down under her chin and squinted atyou across the bridge, she had all the motions of a high-school girl.
'Course, I didn't dope all this out to myself at the time; for, as I wassayin', I didn't size her up special. But it all came to meafterwards--yes, yes!
The excitement broke loose along about the middle of that first night.I'd turned in about an hour before, and I was poundin' my ear like acircus hand on a Sunday lay-over, when I hears the trouble cry. Firstoff I wasn't goin' to do any more than turn over and get a fresh hold onthe mattress, for I ain't much on routin' out for fires unless I feelthe head-board gettin' hot. But then I wakes up enough to remember thatRockywold is a long ways outside the metropolitan fire district, and Ibegins to throw clothes onto myself.
Inside of two minutes I was outdoors lookin' for a chance to win aCarnegie medal. There wasn't any show at all, though. The fire, whatthere was of it, was in the kitchen, in the basement of the wing wherethe help stays. Half a dozen stablemen had put it out with the gardenhose, and were finishin' the job by soakin' one of the cooks, when Ishowed up.
I watched 'em for a while, and then started back to my room. Somehow Igot twisted up in the shrubbery, and instead of goin' back the way Icame, I gets around on the other corner. Just about then a ground-floorwindow is shoved up, and a female in white floats out on a little stonebalcony. She waves her arms and begins to call for help.
"You're late," says I. "It's all over."
That didn't satisfy her at all, though. Some smoke and steam was stillcomin' from the far side of the buildin', and it was blowin' in throughanother window.
"Help, help!" she squeals. "Help, before I jump!"
"I wouldn't," says I, "they've gone home with the life net."
"The smoke, the smoke!" says she. "Oh, I must jump!"
"Well, if you've got the jumpin' fit," says I, "jump ahead; but if youcan hold yourself in a minute, I'll bring a step-ladder."
"Then hurry, please hurry!" says she, and starts to climb up on the edgeof the balcony.
It wa'n't more'n six feet to the turf anyway, and it wouldn't have beenany killing matter if she had jumped, less'n she'd landed on her neck;but she was as looney as if she'd been standin' on top of the FlatironBuildin'. Bein' as how I'd forgot to bring a step-ladder with me, Ichases around after something she could come down on. The moon wasn'tshinin' very bright though, and there didn't seem to be any boxes orbarrels lyin' around loose, so I wasn't makin' much headway. But afterawhile I gets hold of something that was the very ticket. It was one ofthese wooden stands for flower-pots. I lugs that over and sets it upunder the window.
"Now if you'll just slide down onto that easy," says I, "your life issaved."
She looks at it once, and begins to flop her arms and take on again. "Inever can do it, I know I can't!" says she. "I'll fall, I'll fall!"
Well, it was a case of Shorty McCabe to the rescue, after all. "Comingup!" says I, and hops on the thing, holdin' out me paws.
She didn't need any more coaxin'. She scrabbled over that balcony railand got a shoulder clutch on me that you couldn't have loosened with acrowbar. I gathered in the rest of her with my left hand and steadiedmyself with the other. Lucky she wasn't a heavy-weight, or thatpot-holder wouldn't have stood the strain. It creaked some as we wentdown, but it held together.
"Street floor, all out!" says I, as I hit the grass.
But that didn't even get a wiggle out of her.
"It's all over," says I. "You're rescued."
Talk about your cling-stones! She was it. Never a move. I couldn't tellwhether she'd fainted, or was too scared to let go. But it was up to meto do something. I couldn't stand there for the rest of the nightholdin' a strange lady draped the way she was, and it didn't seem to bejust the right thing to sit down to it. Besides, one of her elbows wastryin' to puncture my right lung.
"If you're over the fire panic, I'll try and hoist you back through thewindow, miss," says I.
<
br /> She wasn't ready to do any conversin' then, though. She was just holdin'onto me like I was too good a thing to let slip.
"Well, it looks to me as though we'd got to make a front entrance," saysI; "but I hope the audience'll be slim," and with that I starts tofinish the lap around the house and make for the double doors.
One of her elbows was tryin' to puncture my right lung.]
I've carried weight before, but never that kind, and it seemed like thatblamed house was as big around as a city block. Once or twice we buttedinto the bushes, and another time I near tumbled the two of us into thepool of a fountain; but after awhile I struck the front porch, some outof breath, and with a few wisps of black hair in my eyes, but still inthe game. The lady hadn't made a murmur, and she hadn't slacked herclinch.
I was hopin' to slide in quiet, without bein' spotted by anyone, formost of the women had gone back to bed, and I could hear the men down inthe billiard room clickin' glasses over an extra dream-soother. Luck wasagainst me, though. Right under the newel-post light stood Pinckney,wearin' a silk pajama coat outside of a pair of black broadclothtrousers. When he sees me and what I was luggin' he looks kind ofpleased.
"Hello, Shorty!" says he. "What have you there?"
"It might be a porous-plaster, by the way it sticks," says I, "but itain't. It's a lady I've been rescuin' while the rest of you guys wasstandin' around watchin' a wet cook."
"By Jove!" says Pinckney, steppin' up and takin' a close look. "Miriam!"
"Thanks," says I. "We ain't been introduced yet. Do you mind unhookin'her fingers from the back of my neck?"
But all he did was to stand there with his mouth corners workin', andthem black eyes of his winkin' like a pair of arc lights.
"It's too pretty a picture to spoil," says he. "So touching! Reminds meof Andromeda and What's-his-name. Just keep that pose a minute, willyou, until I bring up the rest of the fellows?"
"You'll bring up nothin'," says I, reachin' out with one hand andgettin' a grip on the collar of his silk jacket. "Now get busy, or offcomes your kimono."
With that he quits kiddin' and goes to work on Miriam's fingers, and inabout a minute she gives a little jump, like she'd just heard thebreakfast bell.
"Why!" says she. "Where am I?"
"Right where you landed five minutes ago," says I.
Then she shudders all over and squeals: "Oh! A man! A man!"
"Sure," says I, "you didn't take me for a Morris chair, did you?"
Miriam didn't linger for any more. She lets loose a holler that nearsplits me ear open, slides down so fast that her bare tootsies hit thefloor with a spat, grabs her what-d'ye-call-it up away from her ankleswith both hands, and sprints down the hall as if she was makin' for thelast car.
"Say," says I, gettin' me neck out of crook, "I wish that thought hadcome to her sooner. I feel as if I'd been squeezed by a pair ofice-tongs. If she can hug like that in her sleep, what could she do whenshe was wide awake?"
"Shorty," says Pinckney, with his face as solemn as a preacher's, "I'mpained and astonished at this."
"Me, too," says I.
"Don't jest," says he. "This looks to me like an attempt at kidnapping."
"If you'd had that grip on you, I guess you'd have thought it was thereal thing," says I. "But here's a little tip I want to pass on to you:Don't go spreadin' this josh business around the lot, or your show'll beminus a star act. I'll stand for all the private kiddin' you can handout, but I've got my objections to playin' a public joke-book part. Now,will you quit?"
He was mighty disappointed at havin' to do it, but he gave his word, andI makes tracks up stairs, glad enough to be let off so easy.
"It was a queer kind of a faint, if that's what it was," says I tomyself. "I'll bet I fights shy of anything more of the kind that I seescomin' my way. This is what I gets for strayin' so far from Broadway."
But a little thing like that don't interfere with my sleepin', whenslumber's on the card, and I proceeds to tear off what was due me on theeight-hour sched., and maybe a little more.
I didn't get a sight of Miriam all day long. Not that I was strainin' myeyes any. There was somethin' better to look at--Sadie, for instance.'Course Pinckney was bossin' the show, but she was bossin' him, andanyone else that was handy. They were goin' to pull off the racket inthe ball-room, and Sadie found a lot to do to it. She's a hummer, Sadieis. Maybe she wa'n't brought up among bow-legged English butlers and alot of Swedish maids, but she's learned the trick of gettin' 'em tobreak their necks for her whenever she says the word.
All the forenoon more folks kept comin' on every train, and there wastwo rows of them big, deep-breathin' tourin' cars in the stables. Bydinnertime Rockywold looked like a Saratoga hotel durin' the racin'season. Chappies were playin' lawn tennis, and luggin' golf bags around,and keepin' the ivories rollin', while the front walks and porches mighthave been Fifth-ave. on a Monday afternoon, from the dry-goods that wasbein' sported there.
I stowed myself away in a corner of the billiard-room and didn't mixmuch, but I was takin' it all in. Not that I was feelin' lonesome, oranything like that. I likes to see any sort of fun, even if it ain'tjust my kind. And besides, there was more or less in the bunch that Iknew first-rate. But I don't care about pushin' to the front until Igets the call.
So everything runs along smooth, and I was figurin' on makin' a latetrain down to Primrose Park after I'd done my little turn. I didn't caremuch about seein' the show, so I stuck to the dressin'-room until theysends word that it was my next. We'd had the punchin'-bag apparatusrigged up in the forenoon, and there wasn't anything left to be done buthook on the leather and spread out the mat.
Pinckney was doin' the announcin' and the jolly he gives me before helugs me out was somethin' fierce. I reckon I was blushin' some when Iwent on. I took just one squint at the mob and felt a chill down myspine. Say, it's one thing to step up before a gang of sports in a hall,and another to prance out in ring clothes on a platform in front of twoor three hundred real ladies and gents wearin' their evenin' togs.
There I was, though, and the crowd doin' the hurrah act for all it wasworth. When I gets the bag goin' I feels better, and whatever grouch Ihas against Pinckney for not lettin' me wear my gym. suit I puts intoshort-arm punches on the pigskin. The stunt seemed to take. I could tellthat by the buzz that came over the footlights. No matter what you'redoin', whether it's makin' campaign speeches, or stoppin' a comer in sixrounds, it's always a help to know that you've got the crowd with you.
By the time I'd got well warmed up, and was throwin' in all theflourishes that's been invented--double ducks, side-step and swing,shoulder work, and so on--I felt real chipper. I makes a grandstandfinish, and then has the nerve to face the audience and do a matineebend. As I did that I gets my lamps fixed on some one in the front row.
Say, if you've ever done much on the platform, you know how sometimesyou'll get a squint at a pair of eyes down front and can't get yourselfaway from 'em after that. Well, that was the way with me then. There wasrows and rows of faces that all looked alike, but this one phiz seemedto stand right out; and to save me, all I could do was to stare back.
It belonged to Miriam. She had her chin tucked down, and her head cantedto one side, and her mouth puckered into the mushiest kind of a grin youever saw. Her eyes were rolled up real kittenish, too. Oh, it was acombination to make a man strike his grandmother, that look she wassendin' up to me. I wanted to dodge it and pick up another, but therewas no more gettin' away from it than as if I was bein' followed by asearch-light. Worst of it was, I could feel myself grinnin' back at herjust as mushy. I was gettin' sillier every breath, and I might have gotas far as blowin' kisses at her if I hadn't pulled myself together andbegun to juggle the Indian clubs, for the second half of my act.
All the ginger had faded out of me, though, and I cut the rest of itmighty short. As I comes off, Sadie grabs me and begins to tell me whata hit I'd made, and how tickled she was, but I shakes her off.
"What's your great
rush, Shorty?" says she.
"I've got a date to fill down the road," says I, and I makes a quickbreak for the dressin'-room. Honest, I was gettin' rattled for fear ifMiriam should get another look at me she'd mesmerize me so I'd neverwake up. I skins into my sack-suit, leaves word to have my bag expressedto town, and was just about to make a sudden exit when I bumps into someone at the front door.
"Oh, Mr. McCabe! How did you know where to find me?" says she.
Say, I'll give you one guess. Sure, it was Miriam again. She was got upexpensive, all real lace and first-water sparks, and just as handsome asa towel rack. But the minute she turns on that gushy look I'm nailed tothe spot, same as the rabbits they feed to the boa-constrictors up atthe Zoo.
"You didn't think you could lose me so easy, did you?" says I.
"What a persistent fellow you are!" says she. "But, after you behaved soheroically last night, I suppose I must forgive you. Wasn't it silly ofme to be so frightened?"
"Oh, well," says I, "the best of us is apt to go off our nut sometimes."
"How sweet of you to put it that way!" says she, and then she uncorks agiggle. "You did carry me so nicely, too."
That was a sample. I wouldn't go on and give you the whole book of theopera for money. It's somethin' I'm tryin' to forget. But we swappedthat kind of slush for near half an hour, and when the show broke up andthe crowd began to swarm towards the buffet lunch, we was sittin' out onthe porch in the moonlight, still at it. Pinckney says we was holdin'hands and gazin' at each other like a couple of spoons in the park.Maybe we was; I wouldn't swear different.
All I know is that after a while I looks up and sees Sadie standin'there pipin' us off, with her nose in the air and the heat lightnin'kind of glimmerin' in them blue eyes of hers. The spell was brokequicker'n when the curtain goes down and the ushers open the lobbydoors. 'Course, Sadie's nothin' more'n an old friend of mine, and I'm nomore to her, but you see it hadn't been so long ago that I'd beentellin' her what a sweat I was in to get away. She never said a word,only just sticks her chin up and laughs, and then goes on.
Next minute there shows up in front of us a fat old lady, with threechins and a waist like a clothes hamper.
"Miriam!" says she, and there was wire nails and broken glass in the wayshe said it, "Miriam, I think it was high time you retired."
"Bully for you, old girl!" I sings out. "And say, I'll give you a dollarif you'll lock her in until I can get away."
Perhaps that was a low-down thing to say, but I couldn't help lettin' itcome. I didn't wait for any more remarks from either of 'em, but I grabsmy hat and makes a dash across lots. I never stopped runnin' until Ifetched the station, and it wasn't until after the train pulled out thatI breathed real easy.
Bein' safe here in the Studio, with Swifty on guard, I might grin at thewhole thing, if it wasn't for that laugh of Sadie's. That cut in deep.Two or three days later I hears from Pinckney.
"Shorty," says he, "you're a wonder. I fancy you don't know what youdid in getting so chummy with Miriam under the very nose of that oldwatch-dog aunt of hers. Why, I know of fellows who've waited years forthat chance."
"Back up!" says I. "She's a freak."
"But Miriam's worth three or four millions," says he.
"I don't care if she owns a bond factory," says I. "I'm no boneconnoisseur, nor I don't make a specialty of collectin' autumn leaves.Do you know what I'd do if I was her aunt?"
"What?" says he.
"Well," says I, "I'd hang a red lantern on her."