by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER X
BACKING OUT OF A FLUFF RIOT
They will turn up, won't they? Here I was only yesterday noontimeloafin' through the arcade, when who should I get the hail from butHunch Leary, with a bookful of rush messages and his cap down over hisears.
Now I ain't sayin' he's the toughest lookin' A. D. T. that ever sat on acall bench, for maybe I've seen worse; but with his bent-in nose, andhis pop eyes, and that undershot jaw--well, he ain't one you'd send into quiet a cryin' baby. Hunch didn't pose for that picture of the sweetyouth on the blue signs outside the district offices. They don't pickhim out for these theater-escort snaps, either.
Which shows how far you can go on looks, anyway; for, if I was going totrust my safety-vault key with anyone, it would be Hunch. Not thatthey'll ever use him to decorate any stained-glass window; but I neverlook for him to land on the rock pile.
Course, I don't see much of Hunch and the rest these days; but it ain'ta case of dodgin' old friends on my part, so me and him hangs upagainst a radiator in the main corridor and talks it over. I wants toknow if Stiff Miller is still manager down at No. 11 branch, and who'swearin' the red stripe yet; while Hunch he puts over a few politequizzes as to how I'm gettin' on with the Corrugated people.
We hadn't been gassin' but five minutes or so, and there's ten more dueon the clock before lunch hour is over, when I looks up to see our Mr.Piddie going by and givin' me the frown. I knew what that meant. It'sanother call-down. He has plenty of time to work up his case; for I takesthe limit and don't hang up my hat until the life-insurance chimes hasdone their one-o'clock stunt. And I'm hardly settled behind the brassgate before Piddie is down on me with the old mushy-mouthed reproof.
"One is known," says he, "by the company one keeps."
"I'm no New Theater manager," says I. "What's the answer?"
"I observed you loitering in the lower corridor," says he. "That isall."
"Oh!" says I. "You seen me conversin' with Mr. Leary, eh?"
"Mr. Leary!" says Piddie, raisin' his eyebrows.
"Well, Hunch, then," says I. "Tryin' to get up a grouch because youwa'n't introduced? Don't take it hard. He's kind of exclusive, Mr. Learyis."
Piddie swallows that throat pippin of his two or three times before hecan get a grip on his feelings enough to go on with the lesson of theday. "I merely wish to remark," says he, "that evil communicationscorrupt good manners."
"How about court Judges, then," says I, "and these slum missionaries'?G'wan, Piddie! Back to the copybook with your mottoes! I'm a mixer, Iam! Would I be chinnin' here with you if I wa'n't?"
He sighs, Piddie does, and struts away to freeze the soul of some newlady typist by looking over her shoulder. As an act of charity, theyought to let Piddie fire me about once a month. He'll die of grief if hedon't get the chance sometime.
And blamed if he don't come near gettin' his heart's desire before theday was over!
It all begins about three o'clock, when Piddie comes turkeyin' out ofthe telephone booth all swelled up with importance and signals me tocome on the carpet.
"Torchy," says he, "I presume you know where the Metropolitan Buildingis?"
"They ain't moved it since lunchtime, have they?" says I.
"That will do!" says he. "Now listen very carefully."
You'd thought from his preamble that I was going to be sent up toregulate the clock, or see if the tower was still plumb; but all itsimmers down to is that I'm to take a leather document case, hunt up Mr.Ellins, who's attendin' a directors' meetin' over there, and deliversome papers that he's forgot to have his private secretary lug along.
"And kindly refrain," he tacks on at the last, "from stopping to talkwith any suspicious characters on the way."
"Say, Piddie," says I, "if I was you I'd have that printed on a card.Some day you're going to forget to rub that in."
Well, I hustles across the square, locates Old Hickory, and delivers thegoods without droppin' 'em down a manhole or doin' any of the otherawful things that Piddie would have warned me against if he'd had moretime. I tucks the empty case under my arm and was for makin' a recordtrip back, just to surprise Piddie; but while I'm waitin' for thatflossy lever juggler on the express elevator to answer my red-lightsignal I hears this riot break loose on the floor below.
And say, I wa'n't missin' any lively disturbance like that; for itlistens like a mob scene from one of them French guillotine plays.Mostly it's female voices that floats up, and they was all tuned to thesaw-filin' pitch. A pasty-faced young gent wearin' a green eye-shade andan office coat comes beatin' it up the marble steps, and I fires aquestion at him on the fly.
"Is it a gen'ral rough-house number," says I, "or have the suffragettesbroke loose again?"
"You're welcome to find out for yourself," he pants, dashin' up anotherflight.
"Thanks for the invite," says I. "Guess I will."
And, say, talk about your mass plays around a shirtwaist bargaincounter! Why, the corridor was full of 'em, all tryin' to rush the doorof 1,323 at once. For a guess I should say that half the manicureartists, lady demonstrators, and cloak models between 14th and 34th wason the spot. Oh, they was a swell bunch, with more fur turbans and MarieAntoinette ringlets on view than you could see collected anywhereoutside of Murray's!
They was sayin' things, too! I couldn't catch anything but odd wordshere and there; but the gen'ral drift of their remarks seems to be thatsomeone has welshed on 'em. First off I thought it must be one of theseskirt bucket-shops that has been closed out by the renting agent; butthen I gets a look at the sign on the door and sees that it's thePeruvian Investment Company, which sounds like one of them common twentyper cent. a month games.
And it's a case of lockout, with the lady customers ragin' on theoutside, and nobody knows what's takin' place behind the ground glass.That wa'n't excitin' enough to lure me from a steady job for long,though, unless some one was goin' to do more'n look desp'rate and talkspiteful.
"Ah, why not smash something?" I sings out. "Didn't any lady think tobring a brick in her vanity bag?"
A couple turns around and glares at me; but it encourages one to beginhammerin' on the glass with her near-gold purse, and just as I'm aboutto leave this turns the trick. The door swings open all of a sudden, andthere stands a tall, well-built gent, with a green felt hat pushed backon his head, a five-inch cigar juttin' out of one corner of his mouth,and his thumbs stuck in the pockets of a sporty striped vest. On accountof the curly brown Vandyke, he's kind of a foreign-lookin' party; butsomeway them smilin', wide-open eyes of his has a sort of familiar look.
For a high pressure storm center he seems mighty placid. As he throwsopen the door he steps back into the middle of the room, rests one elbowagainst the rail of a wired-in cashier's coop, and removes the cherootso he can spring a comfortin' smile on the crowd. It's a brainy play.The rush line stops like it has gone up against a bridge pier, and thenspreads out in a half-circle.
"Well, ladies," says he, "what can we do for you to-day?"
Do I know who it is then? Well, do I! Maybe it has been months sinceI've heard the voice, and maybe he does wear a set of face herbage thatI'd never seen before; but I ain't one to forget the only real A-1classy boss I ever had; not that soon, anyway. It's Mr. Belmont Pepper,as sure as I've got a Titian thatch on my skull!
Do I linger? That's what! Why, I've been waitin' for him to show upagain like a hired girl waits for Thursday afternoon. It's Mr. Pepper,all right; but it looks like he's been let in bad, for after one or twogasps in chorus that bunch of lady grouches gets their second wind andcloses in on him with a whoop.
"Where's my dividends? I want to draw out my money! Say, you give meback my eighteen dollars, or I'll----You'll try your bunko game on me,will you? Hey! I've been waiting since noon to catch you, you----"
My! but they did have their hammers out! They called him everything thata lady could, and a few names that wa'n't so ladylike as they mighthave been. They shook things at him, and promised to do him all sor
ts ofdamage, from bringin' lawsuits to scratchin' his eyes out.
Mr. Pepper, though, he goes on smokin' and smilin', now and thenthrowin' in a shoulder shrug just to hint that there wa'n't any use inhis tryin' to get in a word until they was all through. He almost actslike he enjoyed being mobbed; but of course he knew better'n to chokeoff a lot of women before they'd had their say out. He just let 'em jawalong and get it out of their systems. Fin'lly he raises his hand, takesoff the green lid, and bows graceful.
"Ladies," says he, "I fully sympathize with your impatience--fully."
"You look it, I don't think!" sings out a big blonde, shakin' her willowplumes energetic.
Mr. Pepper throws her a smile and spiels ahead. "You will be pleased tohear, however," says he, "that the board of directors, on the strengthof cabled advices from our general manager in Peru, has just voted anextra dividend of ten per cent."
"When do we get it? Show us some money!" howls the kickers.
"I have been requested to announce," goes on Mr. Pepper, "that paymentsfrom this office will be resumed promptly at noon--on the first day ofnext month."
Does that satisfy 'em? Not so you'd notice it. A bigger squawk than evergoes up, and the jam around Mr. Pepper begins to look like rush hour atthe Hudson Terminal. They starts clawin' at his elbows, and grabbin' hiscoat, and when I notices one wild-eyed brunette reachin' for a hatpin Iknew it was a case of me to the rescue or sendin' in an ambulance call.
Not that I had any notion what ought to be done in a case like this. Icouldn't throw him a rope or shove out a plank; I ain't any expert womantrainer, either; but can I stand there with my mouth open and see an oldfriend get the hooks thrown into him by a class in hysterics? Not whenthe hookee happens to be one that once set me up as a stockholder in agold mine. So I lets flicker with the first fool idea that comes into myhead.
"Gangway!" I shouts out, wedgin' my way in among 'em and usin' myelbows. "Gangway for the bank messenger! Ah, don't shove, girls; heain't the only man left in New York. One side for the real moneybringer! One side now!" And by holdin' the leather case high up wherethey could all see it, and hittin' the line like Coy does when it'sthree downs with ten yards to go, I manages to get through withoutlosin' many coat buttons.
"Here you are, sir," says I, shovin' the case out to Mr. Pepper andgivin' him the knowin' look. "City National. Cashier wants a receipt."
Does he need a diagram and a card of instructions? Trust Belmont Pepper!"Ah, this way," says he. "Pardon me a moment, ladies, only a moment.This way, young man." And almost before they know what has happened himand me are behind the partition with the gate locked.
"Let's see," says he, lookin' me over kind of puzzled,"it's--er--Torchy, isn't it?"
"There's the proof," says I, liftin' the cover off my danger signal.
"I might have known," says he, "that no one else could have put up sogood a bluff on the spur of the----"
"Now that's all right, Mr. Pepper," says I; "but the bluff won't hold'em long. What you want to do is get busy and make a noise likehundred-dollar bills. I don't know what the trouble is; but it lookslike the genuine goods to me."
"Diagnosis correct," says he. "I'm boxed. Now if they were only men, Icould----"
"Oh, sure!" says I. "But a bunch of nutty fluffs is diff'rent. Theynever know what they want or why they want it. Say, ain't you gotanother exit?"
Mr. Pepper shakes his head. "No, son," says he; "but don't you worryabout me. Your strategy thus far has been excellent; but I don't wantyou to get mixed up in this mess. Skip, Torchy, while the skipping iseasy."
"Mr. Pepper," says I, "do I look like a quitter? I ain't forgot what youdid about givin' me them Glory Be stocks, either, and I'm goin' to hangaround here until this little private cyclone of yours blows over."
Mr. Pepper he looks at me a minute in that calm way of his, and then heshrugs his shoulders. "All right," says he.
Then we listens to the buzz outside. Some was explainin' to others how abushel of money had just come in from the City National Bank, and somewas insistin' that it was just a north-pole fake. It's a free-for-alldebate with all rules in the discard. Then we hears one voice that'slouder than the others calling out for a committee.
"We must organize!" she says. "Let's organize for action!"
"Ah!" observes Mr. Pepper. "Now for feminine tactics! That looksbetter."
A couple of minutes more and they've concluded to adjourn to thecorridor. When they're all out and I can hear 'em down at the furtherend, I gives him the tip.
"Now's your chance!" says I. "Up one flight and you can get an expresselevator. I'll show you."
Mr. Pepper don't like the idea, though, of doin' the gumshoe sneak. Hehates to run away from any kind of a fight, specially a lot of women. Hedon't run, either; but after awhile he consents to walk out, and westrolls towards the steps dignified and easy.
It looked like a clean get-away for a minute, too; but I hadn't countedon their leavin' a picket to watch the elevator. She sees us and givesthe alarm; so by the time we're up to the next floor the whole mob isafter us, lettin' out the war cries as if it was a case of kidnappin'.
They struck the upper corridor just as I've got my finger on the button,and in the front ranks they're pushin' along the gray uniformed specialcop that they've rung up from the first floor. Also who should step outinto the midst of the riot but Old Hickory Ellins, just leavin' thedirectors' meeting. He goes purple-faced and bug-eyed, but before I candodge out of sight of course he spots me. And that's the very minutewhen a couple of lady avengers points me and Mr. Pepper out to the copand the pinch business is about to begin.
"Why, what's all the row about, Torchy?" says he. "And who is that withyou?" He gets answers from the anvil chorus.
"That's the swindler!" they shouts. "That's Prentice Owens! He's the onethat took our money, and the boy is one of the gang! Nab 'em, Mr.Officer, please nab 'em!"
"G'wan, you're a lot of flossy kikes!" I throws back at 'em.
"Torchy," says Mr. Ellins, "have you been up to any swindling game?"
"Honest, I ain't, Mr. Ellins," says I.
"I am inclined to believe that," says he; "but what about the otherperson? Is he a friend of yours?"
"Sure," says I. "And he's on the level too."
"He's Prentice Owens, is he?" says he.
"Nah," says I. "He's Mr. Belmont Pepper, he is, president of the GloryBe Mining Company. Why, I used to work for him! That aggregation offemale dopes is full of prunes. Mr. Pepper's no crook."
"Hum!" says Old Hickory, rubbin' his chin. "A case of mistaken identity,eh? Officer, you know me, I suppose?"
"Yes, Mr. Ellins," says the special, jerkin' off his cap, "oh, yes,sir."
"Then drive these deluded women downstairs and tell them their mistake,"says Old Hickory. "Come, Mr. Pepper. Come, Torchy. In with you!"
And inside of two shakes we're shootin' down a one hundred and fiftyfoot shaft with no stops until the ground floor. Not until we getsoutside and Mr. Ellins jumps into his cab does Mr. Pepper say a word.
"Torchy," says he, "you're the real thing in the friendship line. I willadmit that appearances are somewhat against me, but----"
"Ah, say!" I breaks in. "Don't I know you, Mr. Pepper? Do I have to seeany books to know that you're playin' a straight game? It was a matterof needin' a little time, wa'n't it, and bein' rushed off your feet whenyou didn't expect the move? I could guess that much from the start. AllI want to ask is, how's the mine gettin' on, the Glory Be, you know?"
He looks at his feet for a second or so and kind of flushes. Then hestraightens up, looks me level between the eyes, and reaches out a handto give me the brotherhood grip.
"Torchy," says he, "there is a mine, and the last I heard it was stillthere. Anyway, I'm dropping the investment business right here, and I'mgoing out to see what our property looks like. I'll let you know." Withthat he whirls and dashes off across the avenue.
"How is it," says Piddie when I gets back, "that it takes you an h
ourand a quarter to go four blocks?"
"Hookworms, Piddie," says I, "hookworms. I had a sudden attack."