Torchy

by Sewell Ford

  CHAPTER XIV

  IN ON THE OOLONG

  Course it was a cinch; but Piddie ain't got done wonderin' yet how I didit. I can tell that by the puzzled way he has of lookin' me over when hethinks I ain't noticin'.

  You see, we'd been havin' a quiet week at the Corrugated. This finespell of weather has braced Old Hickory up until he almost forgets howhe's cast himself for the great grouch collector. Things must have beenrunnin' smooth, too; for he can even read about the Return from Elbaplans without chuckin' the mornin' paper into the waste basket andgettin' purple behind the ears.

  Then, all of a sudden here the other afternoon, Piddie comes trottin'out of the private office all flustered up and begins pawin' excitedthrough the big bond safe. He's hardly got started at that before therecomes three rings on the buzzer for him, and he trots back to see whatthe old man wants now. Next there are hurry calls for the generalauditor and the head of the contract department, and before Mr. Ellinsgets through he's had every chief in the shop up on the carpet and put'em through the third degree. Way out by my gate I could hear him layin'down the law to 'em, and they comes out lookin' wild and worried.

  Which don't get me excited any at all. I worked in the newspaper officetoo long and saw too many Sunday editions go to press for that. So whenI hears him yell for me I don't jump over the desk and get goose fleshup the back. I keeps right on snappin' rubber bands at the spring waterbottle until he's shouted a couple more times. Then I winks at the rowof lady typists and strolls in, calm and easy.

  "Yes, sir?" says I.

  "See here, boy!" says he. "Do you happen by any chance to know wherethat son of mine might be found at this moment?"

  "Mr. Robert?" says I. "Nix."

  "No, of course you don't!" says Old Hickory, glarin' at me. "No onearound this precious asylum for undeveloped cerebellums seems to knowanything they ought to. Bah!"

  "Yes, sir," says I.

  "Don't grin at me that way!" he snaps. "Get out! No, stay where you are!If you don't know where Robert is, where do you think he might befound?"

  "Tried any of his clubs?" says I.

  He had, all of 'em. Also he'd had him paged through four hotel grillrooms and called up three brokers' offices.

  "Well, if he ain't havin' a late lunch, or playin' billiards, orwatchin' the stock board, I give it up," says I. "Maybe you've noticedthat Mr. Robert ain't been in many afternoons lately."

  "Huh! Perhaps I haven't, though!" grunts Old Hickory. "But this time itis important that he should be here. Young man, you seem to have lesswool on your wits than most of the office force; so I am going toconfide to you that unless we find Robert before four-thirty o'clockthis afternoon the Corrugated Trust Company will lose a lot of money."

  "Oh, if it's a case of savin' the next dividend," says I, "I'll takeanother think. I expect you asked for him at the house?"

  "He was there at one-fifteen and left twenty minutes later," says Mr.Ellins.

  "Yes; but what kind of clothes was he wearin'?" says I.

  "Clothes!" snorts out Old Hickory. "What the blithering----"

  "Lemme ask his man," says I, grabbin' the desk 'phone. "Plaza--yes,Plaza, double O double three sixty-one. Sure! You got it. Say, Mr.Ellins, that butler of yours don't burn the carpet movin' fast, does he?He must----Hello! I want to talk to Walters. Ah, never mind who I am,switch him on!" And inside of two minutes I have the report. "Frock coatand silk lid," says I. "See? Society date."

  "Huh!" says the old man. "That settles it. He's tagging around afterthat young lady violinist again. Might have guessed; for since she'scome back from Paris he has taken about as much interest in business asa cat does in astronomy. But to-morrow morning we'll----"

  "Say," I breaks in, "if it's a case of young lady, why not locate herand then scout for Mr. Robert in the neighborhood? That ought to beeasy."

  "Think so?" says he. "Well, young man, you have my permission to tacklethe job. Her name is Inez Webster. I don't know where she lives, or withwhom she's staying; but she's somewhere in New York. Now, how will youbegin?"

  "By rubberin' at Mr. Robert's date pad," says I.

  "Good!" says Old Hickory. "No one else thought of that," and he leadsthe way in and unlocks Mr. Robert's rolltop. "Now what do thosescratches mean?"

  "I. W. 2:15," says I, readin' it off. "The arrow points to Inez. He mustbe with her now."

  "Wherever that is!" growls Mr. Ellins. "Go on."

  "Say, lemme think a minute," says I, slippin' into the swing chair anddoin' the Sherlock gaze at the desk.

  "Oh, certainly!" says he, snappy and sarcastic. "Take a nap over it!Plenty of time!" and with that he pads back into his office and slamsthe door.

  Now I didn't like pawin' through the pigeon-holes or drawers; but when Ihappens to glance at the waste basket I feels more at home. In a jiffy Ihas it dumped on the rug. There was an empty cigarette box, the usualcollection of circulars, a dozen torn business letters, and so on. Itlooked like a hopeless hunt, too, until I runs across this invitationcard announcin' that the Misses Pulsifer will be at home fromtwo-fifteen until five-thirty. There's a Fort Washington Road address,and down in one corner it says "music." Also to-day's the day.

  "Whoop!" says I, stowin' away the card. "Me for the Misses Pulsifers' ona long shot. Hey, Mr. Ellins!" I shouts, stickin' my head in the door."Can I draw two bones for expense money? I'm on the trail."

  "The blazes you are!" says he.

  "Yep," says I. "Mebbe it's a false scent; but if I find him what's themessage?"

  "Just ask Robert," says he, "if it has occurred to him that those P. K.& Q. contract copies have got to be filed with the bonding company thisafternoon. That's all."

  "Right!" says I. "P. K. & Q. contracts. I'm off."

  Ever get as far up into the northwest corner of the island as FortWashington Road? Then you know how many blocks it is from the nearestsubway station. Not havin' time for a half-hour stroll, I takes aBroadway express, jumps it at 157th, hunts up a taxi, and turns down thered flag.

  "Now don't try zigzaggin' around to roll up mileage," says I to theshuffer; "but beat it straight there."

  Some swell places up in that neck of Manhattan, what? Why, some of themfolks has so much back yard they keep their own cow. When we rolls inthrough a pair of big stone gates I begin to suspect that the MissesPulsifers was lady plutes for fair, and the size of the house had mestunned.

  "I'm swell lookin' front door comp'ny, I am," thinks I, handin' over adollar thirty to the taxi pirate and paradin' in across the red carpet."Now what is it I tell the butler when he pushes out his tray?"

  All the guard they has on the door, though, is a French maid, and whenshe starts to look me over suspicious I shoves the invitation card ather.

  "Say, Marie," says I, "where's the doin's?"

  "Pardon?" says she. "What you wish?"

  "Ah, where do they keep the music?" says I.

  "Ze musicale?" says she. "It is commence. S-s-s-sh!" and she points downthe hallway.

  "Yes, I was afraid I'd be late," says I. "Glad they didn't wait. I'llsneak into a back seat."

  Did I? Well, say, I didn't know what I was runnin' into; for as I pushesthrough some draperies I finds myself on the side lines of the biggestherd of girls I ever saw collected in one room before. Why, there wasrows and rows of 'em, all in white dresses, and the minute I steps inabout two hundred pairs of eyes revolves my way.

  Talk about jumpin' into the limelight! I felt like I'd wandered out onthe stage while the big scene was goin' on. Then comes the giggles, andbusiness with the elbows of passin' the nudge along. They all forgetswhat's doin' up on the platform by the piano and pays strict attentionto me. Blush? Say, I'll bet my ears ain't got back their reg'lar coloryet!

  Seemed like my feet was stuck to the floor, too. Maybe it was an hour Istood there, and maybe it was only a minute; but at last I takes onewild look around over that girl convention and then I backs out. I'dseen him, though. Way over by an open window on the other side was Mr.Robert, on
e of the four men in that whole crowd. So out the front door Irushes and then tiptoes around the veranda until I came to him.

  And he wa'n't gazin' around watchin' for casual butters-in. Not Mr.Robert! All he's seein' is the slim young lady standin' up on theplatform with the violin tucked under her chin. You couldn't blame himmuch, either; for, while I ain't any judge of the sort of music she wasteasin' out of the strings, I'll say this much: The way she was doin' itwas well worth watchin'. The swing of that elbow of hers, and theIsadora Duncan sway of her shoulders as she hits the high notes sure didhave some class to it. He's so busy followin' her motions that he don'teven know when I leans in within six inches of him and whispers. So Ihas to give him the gentle prod.

  "Eh!" says he, whirlin' around. "Why, what the--Torchy!"

  "Uh-huh," says I. "Crawl out backwards, can't you?"

  "Wha--what's that!" says he, whisperin' sort of husky.

  "You got to do it," says I. "I was sent up special to get you."

  "Why, what's the matter?" says he.

  "P. K. & Q. contracts," says I. "Did you file 'em yet?"

  "By Jove, no!" he groans under his breath. "I--I forgot."

  "Then it's a case of beat it," says I.

  "But--but I can't!" says Mr. Robert. "I can't possibly leave now, rightin the middle of----"

  "That's so," says I. "She's lookin' this way now. But where'd you stowthe contracts? Remember that, do you?"

  "Why, of course," says he. "Third left hand drawer of my desk, in adocument box."

  "'S enough!" says I. "I'll 'phone down and tell 'em. They'll fix it up.Don't move; she's lookin' your way again."

  "Wait!" says he, behind his hand. "I must see you before you go back,after the concert is over. Wait for me in the garden."

  "In the garden, Maud, it is," says I, and with that I slides back to thefront entrance and gets Marie to lead me to the 'phone booth.

  Well, I'd got the joint all sized up now. It's one of these swellboardin' schools for girls, where they take piano lessons and areexposed to French and the German measles. And, now my knees has quitwabblin' and I was safe out of the hall, I was almost glad I'd come upand give the young ladies such a treat. I couldn't help admirin' Mr.Robert's nerve, though; for he must have known what he was lettin'himself in for when he follows Inez up there. But when they get it thatbad there's no tellin' how reckless they'll be.

  If it had been all the same to Mr. Robert, my next move would have beento get away from the spot as quick as my feet would let me; but so longas he'd assigned me a waiting part that's what it had to be. WithMarie's help I finds the garden out at the back of the house and makesmyself comf'table on a rustic seat. It's a flossy garden scene, allright, with winding paths, and flowerbeds, and cute little summerhouses, and all sorts of bushes in bloom. Now and then I could hearmusic driftin' out, and when a piece was through the hand clappin' wouldcommence, like a shower on a tin roof.

  Say, it had sittin' behind the brass rail in the office beat to a froth,and I was enjoyin' it, lazy and comf'table, with my feet up on the benchand my head back; when all at once there's a big spasm of applause, thedoors openin' on the back veranda are swung open, everybody startschatterin' together, there's a swish and a rustle and a clatter of highheels; and the next thing I knew the whole blamed garden was full of'em.

  Girls! Say, all the fifty-seven varieties was represented,--tall ones,short ones, thin ones, plump ones, and plain fatties. There wasaristocratic brunettes, and dimpled blondes, and every shade between.They ranged from fourteen up, and they sported all kinds of hairdressin', from double pleated braids to the latest thing in turbanswirls. And there was little Willie, hemmed in by a twelve-foot wall onthree sides and solid squads of girls on the fourth!

  First they began sailin' by in groups of twos and threes and fours, allgivin' me the goo-goo stare and snickerin'. Honest, you'd thought I wassome kind of a humorous curiosity, specially exhibited for the occasion.Ain't they the limit, though? And the whispered remarks they passed!"Why, Madge! Aren't you just killing! Whose brother did you say youthought----Yes, and so curly, too!"

  I try to forget that red thatch of mine most of the time; but this wasno place to practice bein' absent minded. It didn't seem to make anydiff'rence whether I put my hat on or left it off, they were wise to theruddy hair. All I could do was to squeeze myself into one corner of theseat and pretend not to notice 'em. What I wanted most was to stand upand holler for Mr. Robert. Why in blazes didn't he show up, anyway?

  I'd been enjoyin' this gen'ral inspection stunt for four or fiveminutes, when maids begun circulatin' among the mob with trays ofsandwiches and plates of chicken salad, and every last one of 'emstopped at my station.

  "No, thanks," says I. Think I wanted to give a food destroyin'performance before an audience like that? I was just wavin' away thefourth offer of picnic grub when I hears a little squeal come from abunch of new recruits, and when I looks up to see what's happeningnow--well, you'd never guess. It's Miss Vee! You know, the pink andwhite queen I was tellin' you about meetin' at the swell dancin' classwhere I subbed for Izzie in the cloakroom and was invited out to jointhe merry throng.

  She ain't got the ballroom costume on, of course; but I'd know them biggray eyes and that straw colored hair and that sweet pea complexion inany disguise. For a second she stands there gazin' at me sort ofsurprised and puzzled, like she didn't know whether to give me the nodor just put up her chin and sail by. If I could I'd looked the otherway, so's to give her a chance to duck recognizin' me; but I couldn't doanything but stare back. And the next thing I knew she's comin' straightfor me.

  "Why, Torchy!" says she, sort of purry and confidential. "You!" Andblamed if she wa'n't holdin' out both hands.

  Well, say, you can't imagine what a diff'rence that makes to me. It waslike fallin' off a roof and landin' in a hammock. What did I care forthat push of young lady fluffs then?

  "Sure thing, it's me," says I, grabbin' the hands before she couldchange her mind. "Say, have a seat, won't you, Miss Vee?"

  "Oh, then you haven't forgotten?" says she.

  "Me? Forget?" says I. "Say, Miss Vee, I'll keep right on rememberin'that spiel we had together until breathin' goes out of fashion--and thensome! Gee! but I'm glad you happened along!"

  "But how is it," says she, "that you----"

  "Special commission," says I. "I'm waitin' here for Mr. Robert Ellins."

  "Oh!" says she. "And have you had some salad and sandwiches?"

  "No; but I'm ready for 'em now," says I. "That is, if----Say, you don'tmind doin' this, do you?"

  "Why should I?" says she.

  "Oh, well," says I, "you see I ain't--well, I'm kind of outclassed here,and I didn't know but some of the other girls might----"

  "Let them dare!" says Miss Vee, straightenin' up and glancin' aroundhaughty. My! but she's a thoroughbred! There was one group standin' alittle way off watchin' us; but that look of Miss Vee's scattered 'em asthough she'd turned the hose on them. Next minute she was smilin'again. "You see," she goes on, sittin' close, "I'm not much afraid."

  "You're a hummer, you are!" says I, lookin' her over approvin'.

  "There, there!" says she. "I see that you must have something to eatright away. Here, Hortense! There! Now you'll have a cup of tea, won'tyou?"

  "Anything you pass out goes with me," says I, "even to tea."

  It was my first offense in the oolong line, and, honest, I couldn't tellnow how it tasted; but I knew all about how Vee handles a cup andsaucer, though, and the way she has of lookin' at you over the rim. Say,she's the only girl I ever knew who could talk more'n a minute to afeller without the aid of giggles. There's some sense to what she has tosay, too, and all the way you can tell whether she's joshin' or not isby watchin' her eyes. And me, I wa'n't losin' any tricks.

  She tells me all about how she's been to school here ever since she wasa little girl. Seems she's as shy on parents as I am; but she has anaunt that she lives with between school terms. This is her finishin'year, and
as soon as the final doin's are over she and Aunty are due tosail for Europe.

  "Coming back in September?" says I.

  "Oh, no indeed!" says she. "Perhaps not for two years."

  "Gee!" says I.

  "Well?" says she, and I finds myself lookin' square into them big grayeyes of hers.

  "Oh, nothing," says I; "only--only it sounds a long ways off. And, say,you don't happen to have a spare photo, do you, maybe one taken in thatdress you wore the night of the ball?"

  "Silly!" says she. "But suppose I have?"

  "Why," says I,--"why, I thought--well, say, it wouldn't do any harm toleave my new address, would it! That's the number, care of Mrs. ZenobiaPreble."

  "Zenobia!" says she. "Why, I know who she is. Do you live with----"

  "I'm half adopted already," says I. "Bully old girl, ain't she? And say,Miss Vee----"

  It was just about then I had the feelin' that some one was tryin' tobutt in on this two-part dialogue of ours, and as I looks up, sureenough there's Mr. Robert, with his eyes wide and his mouth half open,watchin' us.

  "Well, it's all over," says I. "Mr. Robert's waitin' for me. Good luckand--and----Oh, what's the use? Give my regards to Europe, will you?Good-by!" And with that we shakes hands and I breaks away.

  "I don't wish to seem curious," says Mr. Robert, as we walks out to hiscab, "but--er--is this something recent?"

  "Not very," says I. "We've met before."

  "Then allow me," says he, "to congratulate you on your good taste."

  "Thanks!" says I. "Same to you; and I ain't got so much on you at that,eh?"

  We drops the subject there; but Mr. Robert seems so pleased oversomething or other that we'd gone twenty blocks before he remembers whatbrought me up.

  "Oh, by the way," says he, "I suppose there'll be no end of row about myforgetting to send down those contracts. The Governor was wild, wasn'the?"

  "He was wild, all right," says I, "without knowin' whether you'd forgot'em or not."

  "But when you 'phoned him," says Mr. Robert, "of course he----"

  "Ah, say!" says I. "Do I look like a trouble hunter? I 'phonedPiddie--told him to sneak 'em out, send 'em down, and keep his mouthshut. All you got to do is act innocent."

  Never mind the hot air Mr. Robert passes out after that. What tickles memost is the package that came for me yesterday by messenger. I finds iton my plate at dinner time; so both the old ladies was on hand when Iopens it.

  "Why, Torchy!" says Aunt Martha, lookin' at me shocked and scandalized."A young lady's picture!"

  "Yep," says I. "Ain't she a dream, though?"

  And, say, Martha'd been lecturin' me yet if it hadn't been for Zenobiabreakin' in.

  "Do remember, Martha," says she, "that you were not always sixty-threeyears old, and that once----Why, bless me! This must be Alicia Vernon'schild. Is there a name on the back? There is! Verona Ashton Hemmingway,heiress to all that is left of poor Dick's fortune. She's a beauty, justlike her mother."

  "She's all of that," says I.

  It didn't make any diff'rence to Aunt Martha who she was, though. Shedidn't think it right for young ladies to give away their pictures toyoung men. She was for askin' me how long I'd known Miss Vee, and----

  "There, now, Martha," said Zenobia, "suppose we don't."

  That's how it is I can guess who it was blew themselves for a corkin'big silver frame, and put Vee's picture in it, and stood it on mybureau. Course, Vee's on her way to foreign parts now, and there's notellin' when she's comin' back. Besides, there ain't anything in it,anyway. But somehow that picture in the silver frame seems to helpsome.