The House of Torchy

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The House of Torchy Page 12

by Sewell Ford


  CHAPTER XII

  VEE GOES OVER THE TOP

  "But listen, Vee," says I. "If Hoover can't pull it off, with all thebackin' he's got, what's the use of a few of you women mixin' in?"

  "At least we can try," says Vee. "The prices this Belcher person ischarging are something outrageous. Eggs ninety cents!"

  "We should worry," says I. "Ain't we got nearly a hundred hens on thejob?"

  "But others haven't," says Vee. "Those people in that row of littlecottages down by the station. The Walters, for instance. He can't getmore than twenty-five or thirty dollars a week, can he?"

  "There's so many cases you can't figure out," says I. "Maybe he scrubsalong on small steaks or fried chicken."

  "It's no joking matter," protests Vee. "Of course there are plenty ofpeople worse off then the Walters. That Mrs. Burke, whose two boys arein the Sixty-ninth. She must do her marketing at Belcher's, too. Thinkof her having to pay those awful prices!"

  "I would," says I, "if workin'up a case of glooms was any use; but Ican't see----"

  "We can see enough," breaks in Vee. "The new Belcher limousine, theadditions to their hideous big house. All made, too, out of foodprofiteering right here. It's got to stop, that's all."

  Which is where I should have shouted "Kamerad" and come runnin' out withmy hands up, but I tried to show her that Belcher was only playin' thegame like everyone else was playin' it.

  "He ain't springin' anything new," says I. "He's just followin' the mob.They're all doin' it, from the Steel Trust down to the push-cart men.And when you come to interferin' with business--well, that's serious."

  "Humph!" says Vee. "When it comes to taking advantage of poor people anddepriving them of enough to eat, I call it plain piracy. And you oughtto be ashamed of yourself, Torchy, standing up for such things."

  So you see I was about as convincin' as a jazz band tryin' to imitatethe Metropolitan orchestra doin' the overture to "Lucia." If I hadn'tfinally had sense enough to switch the subject a little, there mighthave been a poutin' scene and maybe a double case of sulks. But when Igot to askin' where she'd collected all this grouch against our localmeat and provision octopus, she cheers up again.

  Seems she'd been to a Red Cross meetin' that afternoon, where a lot ofthe ladies was swappin' tales of woe about their kitchen expenseaccounts. Some of 'em had been keepin' track of prices in the citymarkets and was able to shoot the deadly parallel at Belcher. Anyway,they ditched the sweater-knittin' and bandage-rollin' for the timebein', and proceeded to organize the Woman's Economic League on thespot.

  "Sounds impressive," says I. "And what then? Did you try Belcher fortreason, find him guilty, and sentence him to be shot at sunrise?"

  Vee proves that she's good-natured again by runnin' her tongue out atme.

  "We did not, Smarty," says she. "But we passed a resolution condemningsuch extortion severely."

  "How rough of you!" says I. "Anything else?"

  "Yes," says Vee. "We appointed a committee to tell him he'd betterstop."

  "Fine!" says I. "I expect he'll have everything marked down about fortyper cent. by to-morrow night."

  Somehow, it didn't work out just that way. Next report I got from Veewas that the committee had interviewed Belcher, but there was nothingdoin'. He'd been awfully nice to 'em, even if he had talked through hiscigar part of the time.

  Belcher says he feels just as bad as they about havin' to soak on suchstiff prices. But how can he help it? The cold-storage people areboostin' their schedules every day. They ain't to blame, either. They'rebein' held up by the farmers out West who are havin' their hair cut toooften. Besides, all the hens in the country have quit layin' and joinedthe I. W. W., and every kind of meat is scarce on account of Pershing'smen developin' such big appetites. He's sorry, but he's doin' his best,considerin' the war and everything. If people would only get the habitof usin' corn meal for their pie crusts, everything would be lovely oncemore.

  "An alibi on every count," says I. "I expect the committee apologized."

  "Very nearly that," says Vee. "The sillies! I just wish I'd been there.I don't believe half of what he said is true."

  "That's one thing," says I, "but provin' it on him would be another. Andthere's where Belcher's got you."

  Course, I like to watch Vee in action, for she sure is a humdinger whenshe gets started. As a rule, too, I don't believe in tryin' to block heroff in any of her little enterprises.

  But here was once where it seemed to me she was up against a hopelessproposition. So I goes on to point out, sort of gentle and soothin', howwar prices couldn't be helped, any more'n you could stop the tide fromcomin' in.

  Oh, I'm some smooth suggester, I am, when you get into firesidediplomacy. Anyway, the price of eggs wasn't mentioned again thatevenin'. As a matter of fact, Vee ain't troubled much with marketin'details, for Madame Battou, wife of the little old Frenchman who doesthe cheffing for us so artistic, attends to layin' in the supplies. And,believe me, when she sails forth with her market basket you can be sureshe's goin' to get sixteen ounces to the pound and the rock bottom priceon everything. No 'phone orders for her. I don't believe Vee knew whatthe inside of Belcher's store looks like. I'm sure I didn't.

  So I thought the big drive on the roast beef and canned goods sector hadbeen called off. About that time, too, I got another inspection detailhanded me,--and I didn't see my happy home until another week-end.

  I lands back on Broadway at 9 A.M. Havin' reported at the Corrugatedgeneral offices and found Old Hickory out of town, I declares a specialholiday and beats it out to the part of Long Island I'm beginnin' toknow best. Struck me Professor Battou held his face kind of funny whenhe saw me blow in; and as I asks for Vee, him and the madam swapsglances. He say she's out.

  "Oh," says I. "Mornin' call up at the Ellinses', eh? I'll stroll up thatway, myself, then."

  Leon hesitates a minute, like he was chokin' over something, and thenremarks: "But no, M'sieur. Madame, I think, is in the village."

  "Why," says I, "I just came from the station. I didn't see the cararound. How long has she been gone?"

  Another exchange of looks, and then Battou answers:

  "She goes at seven."

  "Whaddye mean goes?" says I. "It ain't a habit of hers, is it?"

  Leon nods.

  "All this week," says he. "She goes to the meat and groceryestablishment, I understand."

  "Belcher's?" says I. "But what--what's the idea?"

  "I think it would be best if M'sieur asked Madame," says he.

  "That's right, too," says I.

  You can guess I was some puzzled. Was Vee doin' the spy act on Belcher,watchin' him open the store and spendin' the forenoon concealed in acrockery crate or something? No, that didn't sound reasonable. But whatthe---- Meanwhile I was leggin' it down towards the village.

  It's a busy place, Belcher's, specially on Saturday forenoon. Out frontthree or four delivery trucks was bein' loaded up, and inside a lot ofclerks was jumpin' round. Among the customers was two Jap butlers, threeor four Swedish maids, and some of the women from the village. But noVee anywhere in sight.

  Loomin' prominent in the midst of all this active tradin' is Belcherhimself, a thick-necked, ruddy-cheeked party, with bristly black haircut shoe-brush style and growing down to a point in front. His big,bulgy eyes are cold and fishy, but they seem to take in everythingthat's goin' on. I hadn't been standin' around more'n half a minutebefore he snaps his finger, and a clerk comes hustlin' over to ask whatI'll have.

  "Box of ginger-snaps," says I offhand; and a minute later I'm bein'shunted towards a wire-cage with a cash slip in my hand.

  I'd dug up a quarter, and was waitin' for the change to be passed outthrough the little window, when I hears a familiar snicker. Then Iglances in to see who's presidin' at the cash register. And say, of allthe sudden jolts I ever got! It's Vee.

  "Well, for the love of soup!" I gasps.

  "Twelve out--thirteen. That's right, isn't it? Thank you so much, sir,"says she, h
er gray eyes twinklin'.

  "Quit the kiddin'," says I, "and sketch out the plot of the piece."

  "Can't now," says Vee. "So run along. Please!"

  "But how long does this act of yours last?" I insists.

  "Until about noon, I think," says she. "It's such fun. You can'timagine."

  "What's it for, though?" says I. "Are you pullin' a sleuth stunt on----"

  "S-s-s-sh!" warns Vee. "He's coming. Pretend to be getting a billchanged or something."

  It's while I'm fishin' out a ten that this little dialogue at the meatcounter begins to get conspicuous: A thin, stoop-shouldered female withgray streaks in her hair is puttin' up a howl at the price of cornedbeef. She'd asked for the cheapest piece they had, and it had beenweighed for her, but still she wasn't satisfied.

  "It wasn't as high last Saturday," she objects.

  "No, ma'am," says the clerk. "It's gone up since."

  "Worse luck," says she, pokin' the piece with her finger. "And this isnearly all bone and fat. Now couldn't you----"

  "I'll ask the boss, ma'am," says the clerk. "Here he is."

  Belcher has come over and is listenin', glarin' hostile at the woman.

  "It's Mrs. Burke, the one whose sons are in the army," whispers Vee.

  "Well?" demands Belcher.

  "It's so much to pay for meat like that," says Mrs. Burke. "If youcould----"

  "Take it or leave it," snaps Belcher.

  "Sure now," says she, "you know I can't afford to give----"

  "Then get out!" orders Belcher.

  At which Vee swings open the door of the cage, brushes past me, andfaces him with her eyes snappin'.

  "Pig!" says she explosive.

  "Wha-a-a-at!" gasps Belcher, gawpin' at her.

  "I--I beg pardon," says Vee. "I shouldn't have said that, even if it wasso."

  "You--you're discharged, you!" roars Belcher.

  "Isn't that nice?" says Vee, reachin' for her hat and coat. "Then I cango home with my husband, I suppose. And if I have earned any of thatprincely salary--five dollars a week, it was to be, wasn't it?--well,you may credit it to my account: Mrs. Richard Tabor Ballard, you know.Come, Torchy."

  Say, I always did suspect there was mighty few things Vee was afraid of,but I never thought she had so much clear grit stowed away in hersystem. For to sail past Belcher the way he looked then took a heap ofnerve, believe me. But before he can get that thick tongue of hislimbered up we're outside, with Vee snuggled up mufflin' the gigglesagainst my coat sleeve.

  "Oh, it's been such a lark, Torchy!" says she. "I've passed as MissHemmingway for six days, and I don't believe more than three or fourpersons have suspected. Thank goodness, Belcher wasn't one of them. ForI've learned--oh, such a lot!"

  "Let's start at the beginning," says I. "Why did you do it at all?"

  "Because the committee was so ready to believe the whoppers he told,"says Vee. "And they wanted to disband the League, especially that Mrs.Norton Plummer, whose husband is a lawyer. She was almost disagreeableabout it. Truly. 'But, my dear,' she said to me, 'one can't act merelyon rumor and prejudice. If we had a few facts or figures it might bedifferent.' And you know that sour smile of hers. Well! That's why I didit. I asked them to give me ten days. And now----"

  Vee finishes by squeezin' my arm.

  "But how'd you come to break in so prompt?" I asks. "Did you mesmerizeBelcher?"

  "I bought up his cashier--paid her to report that she was ill," saysVee. "Then I smoothed back my hair, put on this old black dress, andwent begging for the job. That's when I began to know Mr. Belcher. He'squite a different person when he is hiring a cashier from the one yousee talking to customers. Really, I've never been looked at that waybefore--as if I were some sort of insect. But when he found I would workcheap, and could get Mrs. Robert Ellins to go on my bond if I shouldturn out a thief, he took me on.

  "Getting up so early was a bit hard, and eating a cold luncheon harderstill; but worst of all was having to hear him growl and snap at theclerks. Oh, he's perfectly horrid. I don't see how they stand it. Ofcourse, I had my share. 'Miss Blockhead' was his pet name for me."

  "Huh!" says I, grittin' my teeth.

  "Meaning that you'd like to tell Belcher a few things yourself?" asksVee. "Well, you needn't. I'd no right to be there, for one thing. And,for another, this is my own particular affair. I know what I am going todo to Mr. Belcher; at least, what I'm going to try to do. Anyway, Ishall have some figures to put before our committee Monday. Then weshall see."

  Yep, she had the goods on him. I helped her straighten out the evidence:copies of commission-house bills showin' what he had paid for stuff, andduplicates of sales-slips givin' the retail prices he got. And say, allhe was stickin' on was from thirty to sixty per cent. profit.

  He didn't always wait for the wholesaler to start the boostin', either.Vee points out where he has jacked up the price three times on the sameshipment--just as the spell took him. He'd be readin' away in his_Morgen Blatherskite_, and all of a sudden he'd jump out of his chair.I'm no expert on provision prices, but some of them items had mebug-eyed.

  "Why," says I, "it looks like this Belcher party meant to discourageeatin' altogether. Couldn't do better if he was runnin' a dinin'-car."

  "It's robbery, that's what it is," says Vee. "And when you think thathis chief victims are such helpless people as the Burkes and theWalters--well, it's little less than criminal."

  "It's a rough deal," I admits, "but one that's bein' pulled in the bestcircles. War profits are what everybody seems to be out after thesedays, and I don't see how you're going to stop it."

  "I mean to try to stop Belcher, anyway," says Vee, tossin' her chin up.

  "You ain't got much show," says I; "but go to it."

  Just how much fight there was in Vee, though, I didn't have any idea ofuntil I saw her Monday evenin' after another meetin' of the League. Itseems she'd met this Mrs. Norton Plummer on her own ground and hadsmeared her all over the map.

  "What do you suppose she wanted to do?" demands Vee. "Pass moreresolutions! Well, I told her just what I thought of that. As well pin a'Please-keep-out' notice on your door to scare away burglars as to sendresolutions to Belcher. And when I showed her what profits he wasmaking, item by item, she hadn't another word to say. Then I proposed myplan."

  "Eh?" says I. "What's it like?"

  "We are going to start a store of our own," says Vee--just like that,offhand and casual.

  "You are!" says I. "But--but who's goin' to run it?"

  "They made me chairman of the sub-committee," says Vee. "And then I madethem subscribe to a campaign fund. Five thousand. We raised it in asmany minutes. And now--well, I suppose I'm in for it."

  "Listens that way to me," says I.

  "Then I may as well begin," says she.

  And say, there's nothin' draggy about Vee when she really goes over thetop. While I'm dressin' for dinner she calls up a real estate dealer andleases a vacant store in the other end of the block from Belcher's.Between the roast and salad she uses the 'phone some more and draftshalf a dozen young ladies from the Country Club set to act as relayclerks. Later on in the evenin' she rounds up Major Percy Thomson, who'sbeen invalided home from the Quartermaster's Department on account of agame knee, and gets him to serve as buyin' agent for a week or so. Hernext move is to charter a couple of three-ton motor-trucks to haulsupplies out from town; and when I went to sleep she was still jottin'things down on a pad to be attended to in the mornin'.

  For two or three days nothin' much seemed to happen. The windows of thatvacant store was whitened mysterious, carpenters were hammerin' awayinside, and now and then a truck backed up and was unloaded. But noword was given out as to what was goin' to be sprung. Not until Fridaymornin'. Then the commuters on the 8.03 was hit bang in the eye by awhalin' big red, white, and blue sign announcin' that the W. E. L.Supply Company was open for business.

  Course, it was kind of crude compared to Belcher's. No fancy counters orshowcases or window displays of
cracker-boxes. And the stock was limitedto staples that could be handled easy. But the price bulletins posted upoutside was what made some of them gents who'd been doin' the fam'lymarketin' stop and stare. A few of 'em turned halfway to the station anddashed back to leave their orders. Goin' into town they spread the newsthrough the train. The story of that latest bag of U-boats, which themornin' papers all carried screamers about, was almost thrown into thediscard. If I hadn't been due for a ten o'clock committee meetin' at theCorrugated, I'd have stayed out and watched the openin'. Havin' told OldHickory about it, though, I was on hand next mornin' with a whole day'sfurlough.

  "It ought to be our big day," says Vee.

  It was. For one thing, everybody was stockin' up for over Sunday, andwith the backin' of the League the Supply Company could count on aboutfifty good customers as a starter. Most of the ladies came themselves,rollin' up in limousines or tourin' cars and cartin' home their ownstuff. Also the cottage people, who'd got wind of the big mark-downbargains, begun to come in bunches, every woman with a basket.

  But they didn't swamp Vee. She'd already added to her force of younglady clerks a squad of hand-picked Boy Scouts, and it was my job tomanage the youngsters.

  I'd worked out the system the night before. Each one had typed pricelists in his pocket, and besides that I'd put 'em through an hour'sdrill on weights and measures before the show started.

  I don't know when it was Belcher begun to get wise and start hiscounter-attack; but the first time I had a chance to slip out and take asquint his way, I saw this whackin' big sign in front of his place:"Potatoes, 40 cents per peck." Which I promptly reports to Vee.

  "Very well," says she; "we'll make ours thirty-five."

  Inside of ten minutes we had a bulletin out twice as big as his.

  "Now I guess he'll be good," says I.

  But he had a scrap or two left in him, it seems. Pretty soon he cuts theprice to thirty.

  "We'll make it twenty-five," says Vee.

  And by eleven o'clock Belcher has countered with potatoes at twentycents.

  "Why," gasps Vee, "that's far less than they cost at wholesale. But wecan't let him beat us. Make ours twenty, too."

  "Excuse me, ma'am," puts in one of the Scouts, salutin', "but we've runout of potatoes."

  "Oh, boy!" says I. "Where do we go from here!"

  Vee hesitates only long enough to draw a deep breath.

  "Torchy," says she, "I have it. Form your boys into a basket brigade,and buy out Belcher below the market."

  Talk about your frenzied finance! Wasn't that puttin' it over on him!For two hours, there, we went long on Belcher's potatoes at twenty,until his supply ran out too. Then he switched to sugar and butter.Quotations went off as fast as when the bottom drops out of a bullmarket. All we had to do to hammer down the prices of anything in thefood line, whether we had it or not, was to stick out a cut-ratesign--Belcher was sure to go it one better; and when Vee got it farenough below cost, she started her buyin' corps, workin' in customers,clerks, and anybody that was handy. And by night if every fam'ly withinfive miles hadn't stocked up on bargain provisions it was their ownfault; for if they didn't have cash of their own Vee was right therewith the long-distance credit.

  "Belcher has come over and is listenin', glarin' hostileat the woman. 'It's Mrs. Burke, the one whose sons are in the army,'whispers Vee."]

  "I'll bet you've got old Belcher frothin' through his ears," says I.

  "I hope so," says Vee.

  The followin' Monday, though, he comes back at her with his big push. Hehad the whole front of his store plastered with below-cost bulletins.

  "Pooh!" says Vee. "I can have signs like that painted, too."

  And she did. It didn't bother her a bit if her stock ran out. She keptup on the cut-rate game, and when people asked for things she didn'thave she just sent 'em to Belcher's.

  Maybe you saw what some of the papers printed. Course, they joshed theladies more or less, but also they played up a peppery interview withBelcher which got him in bad with everybody. Vee wasn't so pleased atthe publicity stuff, but she didn't squeal.

  What was worryin' me some was how soon the grand smash was comin'. Iknew that the campaign fund had been whittled into considerable, and nowthat prices had been slashed there was no chance for profits.

  It was botherin' Vee some, too, for she'd promised not to assess theLeague members again unless she could show 'em where they were comin'out. By the middle of the week things looked squally. Belcher had givenout word that he meant to bust up this fool woman's opposition, if ittook his last cent.

  Then, here the other night, I comes home to find Vee wearin' a satisfiedgrin. As I comes in she jumps up from her desk and waves a check at me.

  "Look!" says she. "Five thousand! I've got it back, Torchy, everydollar."

  "Eh?" says I. "You ain't sold out to Belcher?"

  "I should say not," says she. "To the Noonan chain. Mr. Noonan camehimself. He'd read about our fight in the newspapers, and said he'd beglad to take it off our hands. He's been wanting to establish a branchin this district. Five thousand for stock and good will. What do youthink of that?"

  "I ain't thinkin'," says I. "I'm just gaspin' for breath. Noonan, eh?Then I see where Belcher gets off. And if you don't mind my whisperin'in your ear, Vee, you're some whizz."

 

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