Torchy

by Sewell Ford

  CHAPTER XIX

  WHEN MISS VEE THREW THE DARE

  Say, I guess I might as well tell it right out; for, from all I hearabout myself, my dome must have a glass top that puts all the insideworks on exhibition. There's Zenobia, for instance, who's myhalf-step-adopted aunt, as you might say. Now, she ain't one to sleutharound, or cross-examine, or anything like that; but what she's missedof this little affair that I ain't breathed a word of to anybody ismore'n I've got the nerve to ask.

  Course, it was her put that corkin' silver frame on Vee's picture in thefirst place. Just found it on my bureau, you know, and, without pumpin'me for any account of who and why, goes and unbelts reckless for thesterling decoration. A perfectly nice old girl, Zenobia is, if you askme. More'n a year ago that was, and there hasn't been a word passedabout that photo since.

  Yes, it's been on the bureau all the time. Why not? When a young ladyfriend of yours is dragged off to Europe by her aunt, and sends you astunnin' picture of herself for you to remember her by, you don't turnit face to the wall or chuck it in the ashcan, do you? Maybe two yearsit would be, she said, before she came back. It ain't so long to lookover your shoulder at; but when you come to try squintin' ahead that farit's diff'rent. I tried it and gave it up. A whole lot can happen in twoyears; so what was the use? Besides, look who she is, and then think ofall I ain't!

  Couldn't help seein' the picture there night and mornin', though, couldI? Nothin' mushy about glancin' casual at it now and then, was there?You know I ain't got any too many friends,--not so many I has to have awaitin' list,--and outside of Zenobia and Aunt Martha, and here andthere one of the lady typewriters at the office that throws me a smileon and off, they're mostly men. And as for fam'ly, mother, or father, orsisters, or brothers, or real aunts--well, you know how I'm fixed. I'mthe whole fam'ly myself.

  So you see, when I looks at Miss Vee there, and thinks how nice she wasto me them two times when we met by accident,--once at the dance where Iwas subbin' in the cloakroom, and again at the tea where I'd been sentto trail Mr. Robert--well, even if she hadn't been such a queen, I don'tthink I'd forgot her right away. Course, though, as for figurin' outwhy she ever noticed me at all, that's a myst'ry I had to pass up.

  Must have been soon after she went away that I begun sizin' up somecritical the gen'ral style and get up of the party whose hair I wascombin' and whose face I was washin' more or less reg'lar. Startin' withthe collar, I discovered that mine gen'rally had saw edges, gaped in themiddle, and got some soiled about the third day. From then on I've beenparticular about havin' a close front collar and puttin' on a fresh oneevery mornin', whether I need it or not. Next I got wise to the factthat one tie wouldn't last more'n six months without showin' signs ofwear, and it wa'n't long before I had quite a collection hangin' overthe gasjet. Up to then I didn't have the tooth powder habit very strong;but it's chronic with me now. See the result?

  I didn't stop to give myself reasons for gettin' so finicky; but the onemain fact loomin' up ahead seemed to be that some day or other Miss Veewould be comin' back, and that maybe I might be on hand to sortof--well, you know how you'll frame things up? I was to be vicepresident of the Corrugated by that time, most likely, and they'd besendin' me abroad to look up important matters. That's how it was goin'to happen that I'd find out where Vee was stayin'. Not that I'd think ofbuttin' in on her and the aunt. Not much! Just remember I'd seen Aunty!

  No, I was to be on the steamer, leanin' over the rail careless, whenthey came aboard to go home. I was to be costumed all in gray. I don'tknow just why; but it looks kind of distinguished, specially if you'vegot gray hair. Not that I could count on my ruddy thatch frostin' upmuch in a couple of years; but somehow nothing but gray seemed to fillthe bill. I'd planned on gettin' one of them gray tweed suits such asMr. Robert wears back from London, and a long gray ulster that'd make melook tall, and a gray cloth hat to match, and gray gloves. Get thepicture?

  Well, there I am by the rail, lookin' sort of distinguished and boredand all that, when up comes Miss Vee and Aunty. All I could think of Veewearin' was that pink silk affair she had on at the dance, whichwouldn't be exactly what a young lady'd start out on an ocean trip with,would it?

  She'd be some jarred at seein' me, it's likely; but I'd lift the graylid real dignified, throw back the ulster so she'd get the full effectof the tweed suit, and shoot off some remark about how "one always meetsone's most chawming friends when one travels." Then I'd be presented tothe aunt; and after that was over, why it would be just a romp down thehome stretch, with yours truly all the entry in sight. Simply a case ofme and Vee promenadin' the deck by moonlight for hours and hours, andgettin' to be real old friends.

  But pipe dreams like that don't often come true, do they? I ain't got sofar as ownin' a pair of gray gloves, and not a word has been said aboutmakin' me vice president, when along comes this foreign picturepostcard, showin' the Boss de Bologna on one side, and on the other thisscribbled message:

  We sail for home on the 10th. Rah! Rah! Count Schlegelhessen is coming over with us. He's a dear. V. A. H.

  Jolted! Say, I was up and down so many times durin' the next few hoursI'd most meet myself comin' and goin'. Miss Vee was on her way over! I'dbounce at that thought, and get all kind of warmed up inside. CountSchutzenfest is coming with her, and he's a dear! Bang! I'd strikebottom again, with a chilly feelin' under my vest.

  Wa'n't anything more'n I might have looked for, of course. Aunty's oneof the kind that would pick out a Count for Miss Vee, and there wasplenty of Counts over there to be picked; but somehow I couldn't pictureVee goin' wild over one of them foreign ginks. It was clear she had,though. There it was on the postcard, "He's a dear!"

  "Huh!" thinks I. "Most of 'em are dear--at any price."

  It wa'n't for hours, either, that I simmers down enough for the thoughtto strike me that I didn't have any special license to hold a court ofinquiry over whether Miss Vee was comin' back with a Count or not. Afterthat I had time to debate with myself whether I ought just to forgiveand forget, goin' through life cold and sad; or if I should hide mybusted heart the best way I could and pretend I didn't care.

  Was there any use in my goin' down to the pier and standin' in thebackground to watch her come ashore with her dear Count? I could seemyself! Oh, yes, I had it all doped out along them lines! As RobertMantell would put it over, "She has went out of muh life for-r-r-rever."Ah yes! I could have stood for anything but one of them sausage Counts.

  So I stows her picture away in the bottom bureau drawer, burns thepostcard, and dodges Zenobia's eye when she looks at me curious. It wasall over. Yet I knew to an hour when her steamer would dock, and themornin' of the day it was due I rolls out of the feathers at six A.M.Just as natural as could be too, I gets out the new safety razor I'd hadhid away for a couple of months past, and inside of fifteen minutes I'dhad my first shave. Does that get by them keen eyes of Zenobia! Not fora minute!

  "Ah!" says she, pattin' me sort of casual on one cheek as she comes downto breakfast.

  That's all; but she not only takes in the shave, but the best blue sergesuit I've put on, and the birthday tie, and the Sunday shoes. I onlygrins sheepish and slides out as soon as I can.

  You see, accordin' to my plans, I wouldn't have gone near that steamerfor any sum you could name. That being the case, it was odd I shouldcall up the pier and find out if the boat was on time at Quarantine.Also it was some strange the way I opened up on Piddie.

  "Say, Mr. Piddie," says I, "any prospects of an outside run for meto-day?"

  "Not in the least," says he. "I suppose, though, you would like a chanceto waste some of the company's time on the street?"

  "Me?" says I. "Why, I'd hate it. I was only afraid I'd have to go, withall this inside work to be done."

  "Humph!" says he. "You needn't fear. I shall see that nothing of thesort happens."

  "Ah, you're a bird, you are!" says I.

  "Perhaps," says Piddie.

  "Then climb a tree and twitter," says
I; for it made me grouchy to thinkI'd let a bonehead like him get a rise out of me.

  The more I chewed it over, though, the stronger I was for breakin' looseabout dockin' time. Maybe I didn't want to go to the pier; but if he wasbent on throwin' the gate on me, that was another proposition. I gotsorer and sorer and I was on the point of chuckin' the job at Piddie'shead and walkin' out on my own hook, when who should come stormin' in,scowlin' and grumblin' to himself, but Mr. Robert. And he had a worseattack than I did.

  "Torchy," says he, wheelin' around halfway to his office, "ring up PierUmpty-nine and find out when that blasted steamer is due."

  "The Kaiser boat?" says I. "She'll dock about two-forty-five."

  "Eh?" says he, some startled. "Now, how the----Never mind, though. Sureabout the time, are you?"

  "Yep," says I.

  "Dash it all!" says he. "That's Marjorie, though! Any word from theConsolidated Bridge people yet?"

  "Not yet," says I, and slam goes his door.

  Took me three minutes by the clock to dope out the combination too,which shows how gummed up my gears was. But when I'd fitted them tworemarks together, about Marjorie and the bridge people, and hadremembered the cablegram from Sister Marjorie sayin' how their party'dbeen broken up on account of sickness and she was comin' homealone--why, it was all like readin' it off a bulletin. Marjorie'sarrivin' durin' business hours was likely to mess up the schedule.Course, if the bridge concern didn't send word----

  I'd got to that point, when in drifts my old A. D. T. runnin' mate,Hunch Leary, draggin' his feet behind him and chewin' gum industrious.Now Hunch don't look like a tempter. He's plain homely, that's all. Butcomin' just as he did, with Piddie over there glarin' at mesuspicious--well, I just had to do it.

  "Sure I got blanks on me?" says Hunch. "Wot then?"

  Right under Piddie's nose he fixes it up too, and waits while I takesthe phony message in to Mr. Robert. It wa'n't such a raw one, either;not as if it had sent him off to wait at some hotel. "Will try to getaround about two-thirty Trimble," was all it said. And how did we knowTrimble wouldn't try, anyway?

  "That settles it," says Mr. Robert, crumplin' the yellow sheet. "Torchy,you must do the family honors."

  "Do which?" says I, with business of great surprise.

  "Meet my sister Marjorie, see that she gets through the customs withoutlanding in jail, and take her home in a taxi. Think you're equal to it,eh?" says he.

  "I could make a stab," says I.

  "I'll risk that much," says he.

  And before there's any chance for a revise I've marched by Piddie withmy tongue out and am pikin' towards the North River with a pier pass inone pocket and expense money in another, specially commissioned to meetthe very steamer that's bringin' in Miss Vee and her Count. All of whichshows how curious things will coincide if you use your bean a little tohelp 'em along.

  Well, you know how it is waitin' in a push of people for a steamer.Everybody's excited and anxious and keyed up, ready to jump at everywhistle, and stretchin' their necks for a peek down the river. It's ascatchin' as the baseball fever when you're in a mob watchin' the scoresposted. I finds myself actin' just as eager as any, and me only doin'messenger work.

  Finally the boat shows up; but instead of sailin' in graceful andprompt, she shuts off steam and lays to out in the middle of the river,about as lifeless as a storage warehouse afloat, while a dozen or sodinky tugs begin pushin' and pullin' to get her somewhere near the pier.Then folks start makin' wild guesses as to which is their friends.

  "There's Uncle Fred, Willie!" squeals a fat woman next to me, proddin'me vigorous in the ribs.

  "Not mine, ma'am," says I.

  "Oh, excuse me," says she. "Why, there's Willie, over there. Hey,Willie! See Uncle Fred?"

  It was that way all around me, and me not even doin' the wave act. Afterawhile though, I spots Marjorie. There was no doubt about it being her;for she looms up among that crowd along the rail like a prize Floridaorange in a basket of lemons. It's plain Marjorie ain't lost any weightby her trip abroad, and she looks more like a corn fed Juliet than ever.

  As she wa'n't expectin' me, but was huntin' for Brother Robert, I didn'tsee the sense in shoutin'. I went on lookin' over the rest of thepassengers, sort of bracin' myself for any discovery I might make. Wouldthey show up arm in arm, or with their heads close together, or how?

  I'd looked the boat over from bow to stern and back again about threetimes before I happens to take another glance at Marjorie. And there,almost hid by one side of her, was a young lady in a white sailor hatwith some straw colored hair showin' under the wide brim, and a pair ofgray eyes that I couldn't mistake anywhere. It was Vee, all right; justas slim and graceful and classy as ever, with the same independent tiltto her chin, and the same Mayflower pink showin' in her cheeks.

  And, say, I want to tell you that about then I was glad I came! Itdidn't make any difference if there was half a dozen Counts, and a Dukeand what not besides; just seein' her once more, even if I didn't get achance to put over a word, was worth while. And right there I makes upmy mind that, Count or no Count, I'm goin' to push to the front.

  "Oh, you Miss Vee!" I megaphones through my hands, just as enthusiasticas anybody on the pier.

  About the third call catches her ear. She sort of starts and gazes atthe crowd kind of puzzled. There's such a mob, though, she don't pick meout. I could see her turn to Marjorie and say something, and then I getswise to the fact that the four-eyed gent with the bristly hair and thehalf gray set of shavin' brush mustaches, standin' next to Marjorie, wasone of their party. Miss Vee leans over and passes along some remark tohim, and he shrugs his shoulders and says something that makes 'em bothlaugh.

  "If that's the Count," thinks I, "he's a punk specimen."

  A couple of minutes later the boat comes alongside and the passengersbreak away from the rail to get in line for the gangplank. As I'm thereto welcome Miss Marjorie Ellins, I has to post myself near the Esection, and inside of fifteen minutes she's all through havin' hersuitcase and steamer trunk pawed over, and leavin' the hold baggage tobe claimed later, we streams out to where I had a cab waitin'.

  "Is it all aboard, Miss Marjorie?" says I.

  "Not yet," says she. "You see, I've asked Vee to come home with me fordinner--the girl I met on the steamer. You don't mind waiting, do you?"

  Did I? Say, nobody would suspect it, I guess, by the grin I had on whenshe and Aunty and the four-eyed party comes trailin' out.

  "Say, Miss Marjorie," says I, "is that Count Schutzenbund?"

  "Schlegelhessen," says Marjorie, "and he's a perfect----"

  "Yes, I've heard he was," says I. "Little antique, though, ain't he?"

  "Why, he isn't forty!" says Marjorie. "And he's just too----"

  There wa'n't time for any more bouquets, though; for the trio was tooclose. Must have been some of a surprise for Vee to see me waitin'there, and for a bit she don't seem to make out just who it is. Thatonly lasts a second, though. Then them gray eyes of hers lights up, andthem thin lips curls into a smile, and she holds out both hands in thatquick way of hers.

  "Why, it's Torchy, isn't it?" says she, half laughin'.

  "Uh-huh," says I, lettin' the grin spread wider. "Can't shake the nameor the hair."

  "Never try," says she. "Look, Aunty, here's Torchy!"

  "Torchy?" says the wide old girl, inspectin' me doubtful through herlorgnette. "Why, Verona, I don't remember----"

  "Oh, yes, you do, Aunty," says Miss Vee. "Anyway, I've told you abouthim, and it's so jolly to have some one to meet us. Thank you, Torchy.Now let's see, Marjorie, how do we divide up? Aunty goes to herhotel--and--and where do you go, Count?"

  "Me, I am--what you call--perplex," says the Count, and he sure lookedit. "But where the young ladies go, there I will follow. _Hein?_"

  He shrugs his shoulders again and puts on such a comical face that it'sno wonder the girls giggled. And that one act maps out the Count for me.He's just one of them middle aged cut-ups that's amusin'
to have around,if the sessions ain't too frequent. Follow the young ladies, would he?Say, there was only three inside seats to my taxi, and I hadn't plannedon ridin' with the driver.

  "Lemme fix that for you, Count," says I. "Hey, Cabby!" and I whistles upa second taxi. "What's the number, ma'am?" I asks of Aunty. "Oh,Perzazzer hotel. Get that, Mr. Shuffer? Here you are, Count, right inhere!"

  "But is it that--er--the young ladies, you see," he protests. "I hafbromise myself the bleasure to----"

  "Yes, that'll be all right too," says I. "They'll do the followin',though, about a block behind. In you go, now!" and I shoves himalongside of Aunty, shuts the door, and gives the startin' signal.

  Maybe it was a nervy thing, shuntin' the Count off like that, andMarjorie seems sort of disappointed and dazed to find he ain't comin'with us, but by the twinkle in Miss Vee's eyes I guessed I hadn'toverplayed my part. Anyway, we had a nice chatty ride on the way up,with Marjorie doin' most of the chattin'. Looked like that was going tobe about as far as I'd figure too, for there wa'n't a chance of mygettin' a word in edgewise; but when we fetched up in front of theEllins' house Miss Vee breaks in with delay orders.

  "No, Marjorie," says she; "you first. Run in and see if it's all right;and if there isn't a dinner party on, or a houseful of guests, I'llcome. No, I shall wait until you do."

  Course, she didn't plan it that way; but it gives me about six minutesthat was all to the good.

  "You didn't mind my sidetrackin' the Count, eh?" says I.

  "It was lovely--and perfectly absurd!" says Vee. "You know he boresAunty to death, and Aunty bores him. He had planned on meetingMarjorie's mother, too."

  "Then I mussed things up, didn't I?" says I.

  "I believe you did it purposely, you wretch!" says she, shakin' a fingerat me.

  "Who wouldn't?" says I. "See what I get by it!"

  "Silly!" says she. "I've a mind to rumple those red curls."

  "Go on," says I, takin' my hat off. "They'd wiggle for joy."

  "Then I'll do nothing of the kind," says she. "You haven't even said youwere glad to see me."

  "I'm keepin' it a dead secret," says I. "What happened to Europe; was iton the fritz?"

  "Poky," says she. "And they found out I was no musical genius, afterall. Aunty's disgusted with me."

  "She ought to take something for her taste," says I.

  "Oh!" says she, tiltin' her head on one side. "Then you still approve ofme?"

  "That's the only motto on my wall," says I, "only I put it stronger."

  "Silly!" says she once more.

  And then--well, I was watchin' the pink spread up her cheeks, and wassort of gazin' into them big gray eyes, and gen'rally takin' one of themlong, lingerin' looks; and we was both leanin' back not so very farapart, with the slides of the cab shuttin' everything else out--and thenall of a sudden I heard her sort of whisper "Well?"--and--and--Ah, say!With a pair of cherry ripes as close as that, what else was there to do?

  "Why, Torchy!" says she, jumpin' away. "What made you dare----Quick,now, here comes Marjorie. Over on the front seat! And--and perhaps Ishall see you again sometime."

  "Your eyesight'll be bad if you don't, Vee," says I. "Good-by."

  Just before the Ellins' front door closed behind her I caught the waveof a handkerchief; so I guess she can't be so awful mad. Ride back tothe office? Say, I paid off the taxi and floated down Fifth-ave. aslight as if it was paved with gas balloons.

  "Huh!" grunts Mr. Robert, after I'd made my report. "Brought home asteamer friend, did she? Who did you say it was?"

  "Well, between you and me," says I, "it's Vee. You remember--the one atthe girls' boardin' school tea party when----"

  "Eh?" says he. "Ah, that one? Then it wasn't--er--exactly a hardship foryou to meet this particular steamer, eh, Torchy?"

  "Do I look it?" says I.

  And Mr. Robert he winks back; for, as I happen to know, he's been therehimself. It's that friendly wink though, that makes me remember puttin'up that game on him with the fake message, and somehow I felt cheap andmean. Here he was, treatin' me white and square, and I'd been handin'him a piece of fresh bunk.

  "Mr. Robert," says I, standin' pigeontoed and flushin' up some, "youremember that message from the bridge people--Trimble, it was signed?"

  "Oh, yes," says he. "He came, all right, about a quarter to three."

  "Gee!" says I, and walks out.

  For when things start comin' your way in clusters like that, what's theuse tryin' to duck?

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

  EDGAR RICE BURROUGH'S NOVELS

  May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.

  TARZAN THE UNTAMED

  Tells of Tarzan's return to the life of the ape-man in his search forvengeance on those who took from him his wife and home.

  JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN

  Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan proves his right toape kingship.

  A PRINCESS OF MARS

  Forty-three million miles from the earth--a succession of the weirdestand most astounding adventures in fiction. John Carter, American, findshimself on the planet Mars, battling for a beautiful woman, with theGreen Men of Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet high, mounted onhorses like dragons.

  THE GODS OF MARS

  Continuing John Carter's adventures on the Planet Mars, in which he doesbattle against the ferocious "plant men," creatures whose mighty tailsswished their victims to instant death, and defies Issus, the terribleGoddess of Death, whom all Mars worships and reveres.

  THE WARLORD OF MARS

  Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear, Tars Tarkas,Tardos Mors and others. There is a happy ending to the story in theunion of the Warlord, the title conferred upon John Carter, with DejahThoris.

  THUVIA, MAID OF MARS

  The fourth volume of the series. The story centers around the adventuresof Carthoris, the son of John Carter and Thuvia, daughter of a MartianEmperor.

  GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

  JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD'S STORIES OF ADVENTURE

  May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.

  THE RIVER'S END

  A story of the Royal Mounted Police.

  THE GOLDEN SNARE

  Thrilling adventures in the Far Northland.

  NOMADS OF THE NORTH

  The story of a bear-cub and a dog.

  KAZAN

  The tale of a "quarter-strain wolf and three-quarters husky" tornbetween the call of the human and his wild mate.

  BAREE, SON OF KAZAN

  The story of the son of the blind Grey Wolf and the gallant part heplayed in the lives of a man and a woman.

  THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM

  The story of the King of Beaver Island, a Mormon colony, and his battlewith Captain Plum.

  THE DANGER TRAIL

  A tale of love, Indian vengeance, and a mystery of the North.

  THE HUNTED WOMAN

  A tale of a great fight in the "valley of gold" for a woman.

  THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH

  The story of Fort o' God, where the wild flavor of the wilderness isblended with the courtly atmosphere of France.

  THE GRIZZLY KING

  The story of Thor, the big grizzly.

  ISOBEL

  A love story of the Far North.

  THE WOLF HUNTERS

  A thrilling tale of adventure in the Canadian wilderness.

  THE GOLD HUNTERS

  The story of adventure in the Hudson Bay wilds.

  THE COURAGE OF MARGE O'DOONE

  Filled with exciting incidents in the land of strong men and women.

  BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY

  A thrilling story of the Far North. The great Photoplay was made fromthis book.

  GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

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