ON WITH 
 
 TOFLCHY
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 ON WITH TORCHY
 
 By SEWELL FORD 
 
 TORCHY 
 
 TRYING OUT TORCHY 
 
 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 ODD NUMBERS 
 " Shorty McCabe "
 
 r- fo.sr**- 
 
 "WELL, IF i EVER! LOOK WHERE YOUR 
 
 SHOULDERS COME!" SAYS VEK.
 
 ON WITH 
 TORCHY 
 
 BY 
 
 SEWELL FORD 
 
 Author of "Torchy," "Trying out Torchy. 
 "Odd Numbers," etc., etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY FOSTER LINCOLN 
 
 New York 
 Edward J. Clode 
 
 Publisher
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1913, 1914, BT 
 SEWKLL FORD 
 
 CorrmoHT, 1914, BT 
 EDWARD J. CLODS
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. CHANCING IT FOB VEE 1 
 
 II. PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 20 
 
 III. WHEN IKA SHOWED SOME PEP 38 
 
 IV. TOBCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 56 
 
 V. BBEEZING BY WITH PEGGY 75 
 
 VI. GLOOM SHUNTING FOB THE Boss .... 93 
 
 VII. TOBCHY IN ON THE DBAW Ill 
 
 VIII. GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 131 
 
 IX. LATE RETUBNS ON POPOVEB 148 
 
 X. MEBBY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 165 
 
 XI. THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 185 
 
 XII. THE GLAD HAIL FOB TOBCHY 205 
 
 XIII. AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 222 
 
 XIV. CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 244 
 
 XV. BEING SICCED ON PEBCEY 264 
 
 XVI. How WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT . . . .281 
 
 XVII. TOBCHY GETS A THBOUGH WISE 301
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " WELL, IF I EVER ! LOOK WHERE YOUR SHOULDERS 
 
 COME ! " Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 " BY GORRY ! " EXPLODES IRA AS HE GETS His FIRST 
 
 GLIMPSE 50 
 
 SISTER HAS LANDED A SMACK ON His JAW ... 85 
 BELIEVE ME, IT WAS SOME ARTISTIC MAKEUP! . . 134 
 " AH, FLUTTER BY, IDLE ONE ! " SAYS I ... 186 
 
 THEN MY ARM MUST HAVE SLIPPED AND THE SIDE 
 
 CLINCH WA N T DISTURBED 238 
 
 WE WAS RIGHT IN THE MIDST OF PRACTISIN THE 
 SIDEWISE DIP, WHEN WHO SHOULD SHOW UP 
 BUT THE HAPPY BRIDEGROOM .... 257 
 
 WE WAS RIGHT IN THE MIDST OF THE SCRIMMAGE 
 
 WHEN IN WALKS VEE 311
 
 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 CHANCING IT FOB VEE 
 
 SAY, what s next to knowin when you re 
 well off? Why, thinkin you are. 
 
 Which is a little nugget of wisdom I 
 panned out durin a chat I had not long ago 
 with Mr. Quinn, that I used to work under when 
 I was on the door of the Sunday sheet, three 
 or four years back. 
 
 " Hail, Torchy! " says he, as we meets ac 
 cidental on Broadway. " Still carrying the 
 burning bush under your hat, aren t you! 
 
 I grins good-natured at his old josh, just 
 as I used to about twice a week reg lar, and 
 admits that I am. 
 
 " You wa n t lookin for me to fade to an 
 ash blond, was you? " says I. 
 
 " Ah! " says he. "I see the brilliance is not 
 all on the outside. Well, what use are you put 
 ting it to? Who are you with now? 
 
 " Same concern," says I. " Corrugated 
 Trust. "
 
 2 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " As First, or Second Vice President? " says 
 he, cockin his head on one side humorous. 
 
 " Add em together and multiply by three," 
 says I, " then you ll be warm." 
 
 " I don t quite get the result," says he. 
 
 " Ever hear of an office-boy-de-luxe? " says I. 
 " They don t print it on the letter-heads yet, or 
 paint it on the ground-glass, but that s my real 
 label. I m the only one in New York, too." 
 
 Mr. Quinn chuckles and goes off shakin his 
 head. I expect he s disappointed that I Ve stuck 
 so long in one shop without climbin further 
 up the ladder. That s what he was always 
 preachin at me, this ladder-climbin advice. 
 But say, hod carriers do that. Me for an ex 
 press elevator when the time comes. 
 
 But meanwhile, with a couple of bosses like 
 Old Hickory Ellins and Mr. Robert, it ain t so 
 worse sittin behind the brass rail. That s one 
 reason I ain t changed. Also there s that little 
 mine enterprise me and Mr. Robert s mixed up 
 in, which ain t come to a head yet. 
 
 Then well, then, there s Vee. Go on hand 
 me the jolly ! And if you push me to it I 11 admit 
 I ain t any speedy performer at this " Oh, 
 you! " game. Mr. Robert he thinks it s comic, 
 when he has the kiddin fit on, to remark chuckly, 
 " Oh, I say, Torchy, have you seen Miss Vee 
 lately! " 
 
 There s others too, that seems to get a lot of
 
 CHANCING IT FOE VEE 3 
 
 satisfaction shootin the same thing at me, and 
 they sort of snicker when I get pink in the ears. 
 But, say, there s a heap of difference between 
 pickin peaches from an easy chair under the 
 tree, and when you have to shin the garden wall 
 and reach through the barbed wire ornament on 
 top. 
 
 Course, I ain t comparin anything but 
 there s Aunty. Dear old girl! Square as a 
 brick, and about as yieldin ; good as gold too, 
 but worth more per ounce than any coined at the 
 mint; and as foxy in the mind as a corporation 
 lawyer arguin before the Rapid Transit Com 
 mission. Also* I m as welcome to Aunty s eye 
 sight as Eugene V. Debs would be at the Union 
 League Club just about. That ain t any idle 
 rumor, either, nor something that was hinted to 
 me casual. It s first-hand information, hot off 
 the bat. 
 
 " Boy," says she, glarin at me through her 
 gold lorgnette like I was some kind of insect 
 specimen, l do I understand that you come here 
 to see my niece? " 
 
 " Well," says I, " there s you and her 
 guess! " 
 
 " Humph! " she snorts indignant. " Then 
 I wish you to know that your visits are most 
 unwelcome. Is that quite clear! " 
 
 " I get the outline," says I. " But, you 
 see "
 
 4 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 " No qualifications, absolutely none! " says 
 she. " Good afternoon, young man. I shall 
 not expect you to return." 
 
 11 Oh, well, in that case," says I, sidlin off, 
 " why I I think I ll be goin ." 
 
 It was a smear, that s all. I felt about as 
 thick through as a Saratoga chip, and not half 
 so crisp. Encouragin finish for an afternoon 
 call that I d been bracin myself up to for weeks, 
 wa n t it? And from all I can gather from a 
 couple of sketchy notes Vee gets about the same 
 line of advice handed her. So there was a 
 debate between her and Aunty. For I expect 
 nobody can lay the law down flat to Vee without 
 strikin a few sparks from them big gray eyes. 
 
 But of course Aunty wins out in the end. It s 
 a cinch, with everything on her side. Anyway, 
 the next thing I knows about their plans is 
 when I finds their names in the sailin list, bound 
 for the Big Ditch, with most everyone else that 
 could get away. And I makes my discovery 
 about three hours after the boat has left. 
 
 But that was in January. And I expect it 
 was a fine thing for Vee, seein the canal before 
 it revised the geography, and dodgin all kinds 
 of grip weather, and meetin a lot of new peo 
 ple. And if it s worth all that bother to Aunty 
 just so anybody can forget a party no more 
 important than me why, I expect that s all 
 right too.
 
 CHANCING IT FOE VEE 5 
 
 But it s just like some folks to remember what 
 they re ordered to forget. Anyway, I got bul 
 letins now and then, and I was fairly well posted 
 as to when Aunty landed back in New York, and 
 where she unpacked her trunks. That helped 
 some; but it didn t cut the barbed wire 
 exactly. 
 
 And, say, I was gettin some anxious to see 
 Vee once more. Nearly two weeks she d been 
 home, and not so much as a glimpse of her ! I d 
 doped out all kinds of brilliant schemes; but 
 somehow they didn t work. No lucky breaks 
 seemed to be comin my way, either. 
 
 And then, here last Sunday after dinner, I 
 just hauls out that church weddin costume I d 
 collected once, brushes most of the kinks out of 
 my red hair, sets my jaw solid, and starts to 
 take a sportin chance. On the way up I 
 sketches out a scenario, which runs something 
 like this: 
 
 A maid answers the ring. I ask if Miss Vee 
 is in. The maid goes to see, when the voice of 
 Aunty is heard in the distance, "What! A 
 young gentleman asking for Verona? No card? 
 Then get his name, Hortense." Me to the maid, 
 " Messenger from Mr. Westlake, and would 
 Miss Vee care to take a short motor spin. Wait 
 ing below. Then more confab with Aunty, and 
 five minutes later out comes Vee. Finale: Me 
 and Vee climbin to the top of one of them
 
 6 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Riverside Drive busses, while Aunty dreams 
 that she s out with Sappy Westlake, the chosen 
 one. 
 
 Some strategy to that what? And, sure 
 enough, the piece opens a good deal as I d 
 planned; only instead of me bein alone when 
 I pushes the button, hanged if two young chap 
 pies that had come up in the elevator with me 
 don t drift along to the same apartment door. 
 We swap sort of foolish grins, and when Hor- 
 tense fin ly shows up everyone of us does a 
 bashful sidestep to let the others go first. So 
 Hortense opens on what looks like a revolvin 
 wedge. But that don t trouble her at all. 
 
 * Oh, yes, says she, swingin the door wide 
 and askin no questions. " This way, please." 
 
 Looked like we was expected; so there s no 
 duckin , and while we re drapin our hats on 
 the hall rack I m busy picturin the look on 
 Aunty s face when she singles me out of the 
 trio. They was panicky thoughts, them. 
 
 But a minute later the plot is still further 
 mixed by the sudden swishy, swirly entrance of 
 an entire stranger, a tall, thin female with 
 vivid pink cheeks, a chemical auburn tint to her 
 raven tresses, and long jet danglers in her ears. 
 She s draped in what looks like a black silk um 
 brella cover with rows of fringe and a train 
 tacked to it, and she wears a red, red rose co 
 quettish over one ear. As she swoops down
 
 CHANCING IT FOE VEE 7 
 
 on us from the drawin room she cuts loose with 
 the vivacious chatter. 
 
 " Ah, there you are, you dear, darling boys ! 
 says she. And the Princess Charming is hold 
 ing court to-day. Ah, Reggy, you scamp ! But 
 you did come, didn t you? And dear Theodore 
 too! Brave, Sir Knights! That s what you all 
 shall be, Knights come to woo the Princess ! ! 
 
 Honest, for awhile there, as this bughouse 
 monologue was bein put over, I figured I ve 
 made a mistake in the floor, and had been let 
 into a private ward. But as soon as I gets next 
 to the Georgia accent I suspects that it ain t 
 any case of squirrels in the attic; but just a 
 sample of sweet Southern gush. 
 
 Next I gets a peek through the draperies at 
 some straw-colored hair with a shell-pink ear 
 peepin from underneath, and I know that what 
 ever else is wrong don t matter; for over there 
 on the windowseat, surrounded by half a dozen 
 young gents, is somebody very partic lar and 
 special. Followin this I does a hasty piece of 
 scout work and draws a deep breath. No 
 Aunty looms on the horizon not yet, anyway. 
 
 With the arrival of the new delegates the ad- 
 mirin semicircle has to break up, and the three 
 of us are towed to the bay window by Vivacious 
 Vivian. 
 
 " Princess," says she, makin a low duck, 
 " three other Knights who would do homage.
 
 8 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Allow me first to present Mr. Reginald St. Claire 
 Smith. Here Reggy. Also Mr. Theodore Bra- 
 den. And next Mr. Mr. er " 
 
 She s got to me. I expect her first guess was 
 that I d been dragged in by one of the other 
 two ; but as neither of em makes any sign she 
 turns them black, dark-ringed lamps inquirin 
 on me and asks, " Oh, I m sure I beg pardon, 
 but but you are " 
 
 Now who the blazes was I, anyway? It all 
 depended on how well posted she was, whether 
 
 I should admit I was Torchy the Banished, or 
 invent an alias on the spot. 
 
 " Why," says I, draggin it out to gain time, 
 " you see I m a that is, I m a a 
 
 " Oh, hello! " breaks in Vee, jumpin up and 
 holdin out both hands just in the nick of time. 
 
 II Why, of course, Cousin Eulalia! This is a 
 friend of mine, an old friend." 
 
 11 Really! " says Cousin Eulalia. " And I 
 may call him " 
 
 " Claude," I puts in, winkin at Vee. " Call 
 me just Claude. 
 
 " Perfectly lovely! " gushes Eulalia. " An 
 unknown knight. Deed and you shall be called 
 Claude Sir Claude of the Golden Crest. Gen 
 tlemen, I present him to you." 
 
 We looks at each other sort of sheepish, and 
 most of us grins. All but one, in fact. The 
 blond string bean over in the corner, with the
 
 CHANCING IT FOR VEE 9 
 
 buttermilk blue eyes and the white eyebrows, 
 he don t seem amused. For it s Sappy West- 
 lake, the one I run on a siding once at a dance. 
 Think of keepin a peeve on ice all that time! 
 
 It s quite a likely lookin assortment on the 
 whole, though, all costumed elegant and showin 
 signs of bein fairly well parlor broke. 
 
 " What s the occasion? " says I on the side 
 to Miss Vee. " Eeunion of somebody s Sunday 
 school class? " 
 
 She gives me a punch and smothers a snicker. 
 " Don t let Cousin Eulalia hear you say such a 
 thing," says she. 
 
 We only had a minute; but from what she 
 manages to whisper durin the general chatter 
 I makes out that this is a little scheme Eulalia d 
 planned to sort of launch Vee into the younger 
 set. She s from Atlanta, Cousin Eulalia is, one 
 of the best f am lies, and kind of a perennial so 
 ciety belle that s tinkled through quite some sea 
 sons, but refuses to quit. Just now she s spend- 
 in a month with Fifth-ave. friends, and has 
 just discovered that Vee and her are close con 
 nected through a step-uncle marryin a half- 
 sister of Eulalia s brother-in-law, or something 
 like that. Anyhow, she insists on the cousin 
 racket, and has started right in to rush Vee to 
 the front. 
 
 She s some rusher, Eulalia is, too. No 
 twenty-minutes-to-or-after silences while she s
 
 10 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 conductin affairs. Course, it s kind of froth/ 
 stuff to pass for conversation; but it bubbles 
 out constant, and she blows it around impartial. 
 Her idea of giving Cousin Vee a perfectly good 
 time seems to be to have us all grouped around 
 that windowseat and take turns shootin over 
 puffs of hot air; sort of a taffy-throwin com 
 petition, you know, with Vee as the mark. 
 
 But Vee don t seem tickled to death over it. 
 She ain t fussed exactly, as Eulalia rounds us 
 up in a half -circle ; but she colors up a little and 
 acts kind of bored. She s some picture, though. 
 M-m-m-m! And it was worth while bein one 
 of a mob, just to stand there watchin her. 
 
 I expect the young college hicks felt a good 
 deal the same about it as me, even if they was 
 havin hard work diggin up appropriate re 
 marks when Eulalia swings the arrow so it 
 points to them. Anyway, they does their best 
 to come up with the polite jolly, and nobody 
 makes a break to quit. 
 
 It s durin the tea and sandwich scramble, 
 though, that Cousin Eulalia gets her happy 
 hunch. Seems that Sappy "Westlake has come 
 forward with an invite to a box party just as 
 Vee is tryin to make up her mind whether she ll 
 go with Teddy Braden to some cotillion capers, 
 or accept a dinner dance bid from one of the 
 other young gents. 
 
 " And all for Wednesday night! " says she.
 
 CHANCING IT FOR VEE 11 
 
 " How stupid of you, with the week so 
 long! " 
 
 " But I d planned this box party especially 
 for you," protests Sappy. 
 
 " Oh, give someone else a chance, Westlake," 
 cuts in Reggy. " That s the night of our frat 
 dance, and I want to ask Miss Vee if " 
 
 " What s this all about? " demands Eulalia, 
 dancin kittenish into the limelight. " Rivalry 
 among our gallant knights? Then the Princess 
 Charming must decide." 
 
 " Oh, don t, Cousin Eulalia," says Vee, 
 wrinklin her nose the least bit. " Please! " 
 
 " Don t what! " says Eulalia, raisin her 
 long arms flutterin . " My dear, I don t under 
 stand." 
 
 " Ah, she s hintin for you to ditch the 
 Princess stuff," I puts in. " Ain t that it? " 
 and Vee nods emphatic. 
 
 Eulalia lets on that she don t know. " Ditch 
 the why, what can he mean by that? " says 
 she. " And you are a Princess Charming; isn t 
 she, boys? " 
 
 Course the bunch admits that she is. 
 
 " There, you see? " goes on Eulalia. " Your 
 faithful knights acclaim you. Who says that 
 the age of chivalry has passed? Why, here 
 they are, everyone of them ready to do your 
 lightest bidding. Now, aren t you, Sir 
 Knights? "
 
 12 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 It s kind of a weak chorus; but the ayes 
 seem to have it. What other answer could 
 there be, with Vee gazin flushed and pouty at 
 em over the tea urn? 
 
 " Really, Eulalia, I wish you wouldn t be so 
 absurd," says Vee. 
 
 " My dear Cousin Verona," coos Eulalia, 
 glidin up and huggin her impetuous, " how 
 could anyone keep their heads straight before 
 such absolutely distracting beauty? See, you 
 have inspired them all with the spirit of chiv 
 alry. And now you must put them to the test. 
 Name some heroic deed for each to perform. 
 Begin with Reggy. Now what shall it be! " 
 
 " Fudge! " says Vee, tossin her head. " I ll 
 do nothing so perfectly mushy." 
 
 But Cousin Eulalia wa n t to be squelched, 
 nor have her grand scheme sidetracked. * Then 
 I declare myself Mistress of the Lists," says 
 she, " and I shall open the tournament for 
 you. Ho, Trumpeter, summon the challengers ! 
 And oh, I have it. Each of you Sir Knights 
 must choose his own task, whatever he deems 
 will best please our Princess Charming. What 
 say you to that? " 
 
 There s a murmur of " Good business! " 
 " Bully dope! " and the young gents begin to 
 prick up their ears. 
 
 11 Then this is how it stands," goes on Eu 
 lalia, beamin delighted. " Between now and
 
 CHANCING IT FOR VEE 13 
 
 eight o clock this evening each knight must do 
 his valorous best to win the approval of our 
 Princess. Hers it shall be to decide, the prize 
 her gracious company for next Wednesday 
 night. Come now, who enters the lists! " 
 
 There s some snickerin and hangin back; 
 but fin ly they re all in. 
 
 " All save the Unknown Knight," pipes up 
 Eulalia, spottin me in the rear. " How now, 
 you of the Crimson Crest? Not showing the 
 white feather, are you? " 
 
 " Me! " says I. " Well, I don t quite get the 
 drift of the game; but if it ll make you feel any 
 better, you can count me in." 
 
 " Good! says she, clappin her hands. 
 " And while you are afield I must leave too 
 another tea, you know. But we all meet here 
 again at eight sharp, with proof or plunder. 
 Teddy, have you decided what to attempt? 
 
 " Sure," says he. " Me to find the biggest 
 box of candy that can be bought in New York 
 Sunday evening." 
 
 "Oh, splendid!" gurgles Eulalia. "And 
 you, Mr. Westlake? " 
 
 " Orchids," says Sappy. " Grandmother has 
 dandy ones at her place up in Westchester, and 
 I can make there and back in my roadster if 
 I m not pinched for speeding. I m going to 
 have a try, and maybe I ll have to steal the 
 flowers too."
 
 14 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 " There! " says Eulalia, pattin him on the 
 back. " That s a knightly spirit. But what of 
 Crimson Crest? What will you do! " 
 
 " The game is to spring something on Miss 
 Vee better n what the others put over, is it? 
 says I. 
 
 11 Precisely," says Eulalia, allowin two of 
 the young gents to help her on with her wraps. 
 " Have you thought what your offering is to 
 
 Not yet, says I. "I may take a chance on 
 something fresh. 7 
 
 They was all pilin out eager by that time, 
 each one anxious to get started on his own 
 special fool stunt; so, while I was mixed up in 
 the gen ral push, with my hat in my hand and 
 my coat over my arm, it didn t strike me how 
 I could bolt the programme until I m half 
 crowded behind the open hall door. Then I gets 
 a swift thought. Seein I wouldn t be missed, 
 and that Vee has her back to me, I simply 
 squeezes in out of sight and waits while she says 
 by-by to the last one; so, when she fin ly shuts 
 the door, there I am. 
 
 * Why, Torchy 1 says she. l I thought you 
 had gone." 
 
 " But it wa n t a wish, was it? " says I. 
 
 " Humph! " says she, flashin a tea sin 
 glance. " Suppose I don t tell that? " 
 
 " My nerve is strong today," says I, chuckin
 
 CHANCING IT FOE VEE 15 
 
 my hat back on the rack; " so I ll take the bene 
 fit of the doubt. " 
 
 * * But all the others have gone to to do things 
 that will please me," she adds. 
 
 " That s why I m takin a chance," says I, 
 " that if I stick around I might well, I m shy 
 of grandmothers to steal orchids from, any 
 way. 
 
 Vee chuckles at that. " Isn t Cousin Eu- 
 lalia too absurd! " says she. " And since 
 you re still here why well, let s not stand in 
 the hall. Come in." 
 
 " One minute," says I. " Where s Aunty? " 
 
 " Out," says she. 
 
 " What a pity! " says I, takin Vee by the 
 arm. " Tell her how much I missed her." 
 
 " But how did you happen to come up to 
 day? " asks Vee. 
 
 " There wa n t any happenin to it," says I. 
 " I d got to my limit, that s all. Honest, Vee, 
 I just had to come. I d have come if there d 
 been forty Aunties, each armed with a spiked 
 club. It s been months, you know, since I ve 
 had a look at you." 
 
 " Yes, I know," says she, gazin at the rug. 
 " You you ve grown, haven t you? 
 
 " Think so! " says I. " Maybe it s the cut 
 away coat." 
 
 " No," says she; " although that helps. But 
 as we walked in I thought you seemed taller
 
 16 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 than I. Let s measure, here by the pier glass. 
 Now, back to back. Well, if I ever ! Look where 
 your shoulders come! ): 
 
 " No more than an inch or so," says I, gazin 
 sideways at the mirror ; and then I lets slip, half 
 under my breath, a sort of gaspy " Gee! : 
 
 " Why the Gee ? " says she, glancin over 
 her shoulder into the glass. 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," says I; " only I don t 
 mind bein grouped like this, not a bit." 
 
 " Pooh! " says she, but still holdin the pose. 
 
 " Seems to me," says I, " that Cousin Eu- 
 lalia is a slick describer. That Princess Charm 
 ing business ain t so wide." 
 
 " Silly! " says she. " Come and sit down." 
 
 She was steerin for the windowseat; but I 
 picks out a cozy little high-backed davenport 
 and, reachin for one of her hands, swings her 
 into that. " Just room for two here," says I. 
 
 " But you needn t keep my hand," says she. 
 
 " No trouble," says I. " Besides, I thought 
 I d inspect what kind of a manicure you take 
 of. M-m-m-m! Pretty fair, no hangnails, all 
 the half-moons showin proper, an - I 
 broke off sudden at that and sat starin blank. 
 
 " Well, anything else? " says she. 
 
 " I I guess not," says I, lettin her hand 
 slip. " You ve chucked it, eh? " 
 
 " Chucked what? " says she. 
 Nothing much," says I. " But for awhile 
 
 "
 
 CHANCING IT FOE VEE 17 
 
 there, you know, just for fun you was wearin 
 something of mine." 
 
 "Oh!" she flashes back. " Then at last 
 you ve missed it, have you? " 
 
 " With so much else worth lookin at," says 
 I, " is it a wonder? " 
 
 11 Blarney! " says she, stickin out her 
 tongue. 
 
 " Did Aunty capture it? " says I. 
 
 Vee shakes her head. 
 
 " Maybe you lost it? "I goes on. " It wa n t 
 much. 
 
 " Then you wouldn t care if I had? " says 
 she. 
 
 " I wanted you to keep it," says I; " but 
 of course, after all the row Aunty raised over 
 it, I knew you couldn t." 
 
 " Couldn t I, though? " says she, and with 
 that she fishes up the end of a little gold neck 
 chain from under some lace and hanged if 
 there ain t the ring! 
 
 " Vee! " says I, sort of tingly all over as I 
 gazes at her. " Say, you re a corker, though! 
 Why, I thought sure you d " 
 
 " Silly boy! " says she. " I ll just have to 
 pay you for that. You will think horrid things 
 of me, will you? There! " 
 
 She does things in a flash when she cuts loose 
 too. Next I knew she has her fingers in what 
 Eulalia calls my crimson crest and is rumplin
 
 18 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 up all them curls I d been so careful to slick 
 back. I grabbed her wrists, and it was more or 
 less of a rough-house scene we was indulgin 
 in, when all of a sudden the draperies are 
 brushed back, and in stalks Aunty, with Cousin 
 Eulalia trailin behind. 
 
 "Ver-ona!" Talk about havin a pitcher 
 of cracked ice slipped down your back! Say, 
 there was more chills in that one word than ever 
 blew down from Medicine Hat. " What," goes 
 on Aunty, " does this mean? " 
 
 " It it s a new game," says I, grinnin 
 foolish. 
 
 " As old as Satan, I should say! " raps out 
 Aunty. 
 
 " Why," squeals Cousin Eulalia gushy, 
 here is our Unknown Knight, the first to come 
 back with his tribute! Let s see, what was it 
 you said you were going to do? Oh, I know 
 take a chance on something fresh, wasn t it? 
 Well? " 
 
 " Ye-e-es," says I. " And I guess I did." 
 
 1 Trust him for that ! snorts Aunty. 
 " Young man, at our last interview I thought I 
 made it quite clear that I should not expect you 
 to return? " 
 
 " That s right," says I, edgin around her 
 towards the door. " And you wa n t, was 
 you? " 
 
 Some glance she shot over ; but it didn t prove
 
 CHANCING IT FOB VEE 19 
 
 fatal. And as I rides down I couldn t help 
 swappin a wink with the elevator boy. 
 
 " Feelin frisky, eh? " says he. " So was 
 them other young guys. One of em tipped me 
 a half." 
 
 " That kind would," says I. " They re corn- 
 in back. I m escapin ." 
 
 But, say, who do you guess wins out for 
 Wednesday night? Ah, rattle em again! Eu- 
 lalia fixed it up. Said it was Vee s decision, 
 and she was bound to stick by the rules of the 
 game, even if they did have to throw a bluff to 
 Aunty. Uh-huh! I ve got three orchestra seats 
 right in my pocket, and a table engaged for sup 
 per afterwards. Oh, I don t know. Eulalia 
 ain t so batty, after all.
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 
 
 TKUST Piddle for workin up wild suspicions. 
 Say, he can t find a stray sheet of scribblin 
 paper on the floor without pouncin sleuthy on 
 it and tryin to puzzle out the hidden meanin . 
 
 So when I get the buzzer call to Old Hickory s 
 private office and finds him and the main stem 
 waitin in solemn conclave there, I guesses right 
 off that Piddie s dug up a new one that he hopes 
 to nail me with. Just now he s holdin a little 
 bunch of wilted field flowers in one hand, and 
 as I range up by the desk he shoots over the 
 accusin glance. 
 
 " Boy," says he, " do you know anything 
 about these? " 
 
 " Why, sure," says I. " They re pickled 
 pigs feet, ain t they? " 
 
 * No impudence, now ! says he. l Where 
 did they come from? 
 
 11 Off m Grant s Tomb, if I must guess," says 
 I. " Anyway, I wouldn t think they was picked 
 in the Subway. 
 
 And at this Old Hickory sniffs impatient. 
 20
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 21 
 
 " That is quite enough comic diversion, young 
 man ! " he puts in. * * Do you or don t you know 
 anything about how those things happened to 
 get on my desk? " 
 
 " Me? " says I. " Why, I never saw em 
 before ! What s the dope ? 
 
 " Huh! " he grunts. " I didn t think this 
 was any of your nonsense: too tame. And I 
 suppose you might as well know what s afoot. 
 Tell him, Mr. Piddie." 
 
 Did you ever see a pinhead but what just 
 dotes on springin a sensation? Piddie fairly 
 gloats over unloadin it. " This, says he, hold- 
 in up the wilted bunch, l is the unaccountable. 
 For the fourth time flowers of this description 
 have been mysteriously left on Mr. Ellins desk. 
 It is not done after hours, or during the night; 
 but in broad day, sometimes when Mr. Ellins is 
 sitting just where he is now, and by a hand un 
 seen. Watch has been kept, yet no one has been 
 detected ; and, as you know, only a few persons 
 have free access here. Still the thing continues. 
 At regular periods these absurd bouquets ap 
 pear on this desk, seemingly from nowhere at 
 all. Hence this inquiry." 
 
 I d heard Piddie spout a good many times be 
 fore, but never quite so eloquent, and I expect 
 I was gawpin at him some dazed and ad- 
 mirin . 
 
 " Well," says Old Hickory, squintin sharp
 
 22 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 at me from under his bushy eyebrows, " what 
 have you to offer? " 
 
 11 It s by me," says I, shruggin my shoul 
 ders. 
 
 " Oh, come now! " he goes on. " "With that 
 high tension brain of yours, surely you can ad 
 vance some idea." 
 
 " Why," says I, " offhand I should say that 
 some of them mushy lady typists out there might 
 be smugglin in floral tributes to you, Sir." 
 
 Old Hickory grins sarcastic. " Without go 
 ing into the question of motive," says he, " that 
 suggestion may be worth considering. What 
 say, Mr. Piddie? " 
 
 " It might be that Miss Smicks," says Piddie. 
 " She s quite sentimental, Sir, and I ve thought 
 at times she " 
 
 " Stop! " roars Old Hickory, almost workin 
 up a blush. " Mr. Piddie, I am a fat, cross- 
 grained old man, about as attractive personally 
 as a hippopotamus. Great stuttering tadpoles ! 
 Can t you think of anything but Sappy ro 
 mance? More likely someone wants a raise." 
 
 " Very true, Sir; I hadn t thought of that," 
 chimes in Piddie. " Shall we call them all in, 
 one at a time, Sir, and " 
 
 " And what? " snaps Old Hickory. " Think 
 Pm going to ask all those young women if 
 they ve been leaving flowers on my desk? 
 
 " Couldn t you fake up some job for each
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 23 
 
 one, says I, * and when they came in be wear- 
 in the flowers conspicuous, and watch if 
 they " 
 
 " Bah! " breaks in Old Hickory. " What 
 driveling tommyrot! Besides, I don t believe 
 any of them had a hand in this. How could 
 they? Why, I tell you, there wasn t a soul in 
 this room between noon and twelve forty-five to 
 day; and yet, with me facing that door, these 
 things appear right at my elbow. It it s get 
 ting on my nerves, and, by the seven sizzling 
 sisters, I want to know what it all means ! 
 
 " We could have in the detectives," sug 
 gests Piddie. 
 
 " If it was a bomb or an infernal machine, I 
 might," says Mr. Ellins scornful; " but to trace 
 a few dad-blistered flowers no, thank you! 
 It s foolish enough as it stands." 
 
 " But there is something behind all this, I m 
 sure," insists Piddie, " and if you will allow me 
 to do it, I shall send at once for Dr. Rudolph 
 Bingstetter. 
 
 " Who s he? " demands Old Hickory. 
 
 11 A distinguished scientist who is a friend 
 and neighbor of mine," says Piddie, swellin up 
 important. " He was formerly a dentist, I be 
 lieve; but now he devotes himself to research 
 and literature. He writes magazine articles on 
 psychological phenomena, crime mysteries, and 
 so on. Dr. Bingstetter has a wonderful mind,
 
 24 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 and is often called on to unravel baffling cases. 
 It was only a few months ago that he sucess- 
 fully investigated a haunted house out our way 
 and found 
 
 " But I m not accusing ghosts of this," says 
 Old Hickory. 
 
 " Of course not, Sir," says Piddie; " but I m 
 sure Dr. Bingstetter could find out just how 
 those flowers come here. He s an extremely 
 brilliant man, Sir, and I m quite positive he 
 could 
 
 " Well, well, send for him, then," says Old 
 Hickory. ll Only see that you keep still about 
 it outside there, both of you. I don t care to 
 have the whole office force chattering and snick 
 ering over this affair. Understand? " 
 
 You bet we did; for when the boss gets real 
 peevish about anything it s not safe to get your 
 signals mixed! I stands guard on the phone 
 booth while Piddie was sendin the message, and 
 for once we plots away together real chummy. 
 
 " He s coming right over this afternoon," 
 whispers Piddie, as he slides out of the booth. 
 " You re to take him directly into Mr. Ellins 
 office, a large, impressive looking man, you 
 know, with a full round face and wearing eye 
 glasses." 
 
 Piddie forgets to mention the shiny frock coat 
 and the forty-four-inch waist line; but for all 
 that I spots him the minute he hits the brass
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 25 
 
 gate, which he does about ten minutes before 
 closin time. 
 
 " Dr. Bingstetter? " says I cautious. 
 
 " I am he," is the answer. 
 
 " S-s-s-s-sh! " says I, puttin a forefinger to 
 my lips warnin . 
 
 " S-s-s-s-sh! " echoes the Doc, tiptoein 
 through the gate. 
 
 Then up comes Piddie, walkin on his toes too, 
 and the three of us does a footpad sneak into 
 Old Hickory s office. There wa n t any wild call 
 for me to stay as I knows of; but as long as no 
 one threw me out I thought I d stick around. 
 
 I must say too the Doc looked and acted the 
 part. First off he sits there blinkin wise be 
 hind his glasses, and not a sign on his big, heavy 
 face as he listens to all Piddie and Mr. Ellins 
 can tell him about the case. Also when he starts 
 askin questions on his own hook he makes a 
 noise like a mighty intellect changin gears. 
 
 " M-m-m-m! " says he, pursin up his lips 
 and studyin the bouquet thoughtful. " Six ox- 
 eyed daisies, four sprays of goldenrod, and three 
 marshmallow blooms, thirteen in all. And this 
 is the fourth bunch. Now, the others, Mr. 
 Ellins, they were not precisely like this one, 
 were they? " 
 
 Blessed if I know!" says Old Hickory, 
 " No, come to think of it, they were all dif 
 ferent.
 
 26 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Ah, I thought so ! " says the Doc, sort of 
 suckin in his breath satisfied. " Now, just 
 what flowers did the first one contain, I should 
 like to know." 
 
 1 1 Why, hang it all, man, I can t remember ! 
 says Old Hickory. * I threw the things into the 
 waste basket." 
 
 " Ah, that was careless, very careless," says 
 the Doc. " It would have helped. One ought 
 to cultivate, Mr. Ellins, the habit of accurately 
 observing small details. However, we shall see 
 what can be done with this," and once more 
 he puckers his lips, furrows up his noble brow, 
 and gazes steady at floral exhibit No. 4, turnin 
 it round slow between his fat fingers and almost 
 goin into a trance over it. 
 
 " Hadn t you better take a look around the 
 offices," suggests Old Hickory, " examine the 
 doors, and so on? " 
 
 " No, no ! " says Bingstetter, wavin away the 
 interuption. " No bypaths. The trained mind 
 rejects everything contributory, subordinate. 
 It refuses to be led off into a maze of unsup 
 ported conjecture. It seeks only the vital, 
 primogenitive fact, the hidden truth at the heart 
 of things. And that is all here here! " 
 
 Piddie leans forward for another look at the 
 flowers, and wags his head solemn, I edges 
 around for a closer view myself, and Old Hick 
 ory stares puzzled.
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 27 
 
 " You don t mean to say," says he, " that 
 just by gazing at a few flowers you can " 
 
 " S-s-s-sh! " breaks in the Doc, holdin up a 
 warnin hand. "It is coming. I am working 
 outward from the primal fact toward the ob 
 jective. It is evolving, taking on definite pro 
 portions, assuming shape." 
 
 " Well, what s the result! " demands the 
 boss, hitchin restless in his chair. 
 
 " Patience, my dear Sir, patience," says the 
 Doesoothin . " The introdeductive method can 
 not be hurried. It is an exact process, requiring 
 utmost concentration, until in the fullness of the 
 moment Ah, I have it! " 
 
 11 Eh? " says Old Hickory. 
 
 11 One moment," says the Doc. " A trifling 
 detail is still missing, the day of the week. To 
 day is Wednesday, is it not? Now, on what day 
 of last week did you receive a er similar 
 token? " 
 
 Old Hickory finally reckons up that it must 
 have been last Wednesday. 
 
 " And the week before? " goes on the Doc. 
 The bunch of flowers appeared then on Wed 
 nesday, did it not? " 
 
 Yes, he was pretty sure it did. 
 
 " Ah! " says Bingstetter, settlin back in his 
 chair like it was all over, " then the cumulative 
 character is established. And such exact recur 
 rence cannot be due to chance. No, it has all
 
 28 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 been nicely calculated, carried out with relent 
 less precision. Four Wednesdays, four floral 
 threats! " 
 
 " Threats? " says Mr. Ellins, sittin up 
 prompt. 
 
 " You failed to read them," says the Doc. 
 " That is what comes of neglecting minor de 
 tails. But fortunately I came in time to decipher 
 this one. Observe the fateful number, thirteen. 
 Note the colors here, brown, golden, pink. The 
 pink of the mallow means youth, the goldenrod 
 stands for hoarded wealth, the brown for age. 
 And all are bound together by wire grass, which 
 is the tightening snare. A menacing missive! 
 There will come another on Wednesday next." 
 
 " Think so? " says Old Hickory. 
 
 11 I am positive," says the Doc. " One more. 
 We will allude to it for the present, if you 
 choose, as the fifth bouquet. And this fifth 
 token will be red, blood red! Mr. Ellins, you 
 are a marked man! r 
 
 " The blazes you say! " snorts Old Hickory. 
 " Well, it won t be the first time. Who s after 
 me now, though! " 
 
 " Five desperate men," says the Doc, countin 
 em off on his fingers. " Four have given evi 
 dence of their subtle daring. The fifth is yet to 
 appear. He will come on Wednesday next, and 
 then he will find that his coming has been 
 anticipated. I shall be here in person. Now,
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 29 
 
 let me see there is a room connecting with 
 this ? Ah, very well. Have three policemen in 
 readiness there. I think it can be arranged so 
 that our man will walk in among them of his 
 own accord. That is all. Give yourself no un 
 easiness, Mr. Ellins. For a week you will be 
 undisturbed. Until then, Sir, au revoir." 
 
 With that he bows dignified and motions Pid- 
 die to lead the way out. I slides out too, leavin 
 Old Hickory sittin there starin sort of puzzled 
 and worried at the wall. And, honest, whether 
 you took any stock in the Doc s yellow forecast 
 or not, it listens kind of creepy. Course, with 
 him usin all that highbrow language, I couldn t 
 exactly follow how he gets to it; but there s no 
 denyin that it sounds mighty convincin . 
 
 And yet well, I can t say just what there 
 was about Bingstetter that got me leery; but 
 somehow he reminds me of a street faker or a 
 museum lecturer. And it does seem sort of 
 fishy that, just by gazin at a bunch of flowers, 
 he could dope out all this wild tale about five 
 desp rate men. Still, there was no gettin away 
 from the fact that he had hit it right about the 
 bouquets appearin reg lar every Wednesday. 
 That must mean something. But why Wednes 
 days? Now, what was there that happens on 
 Wednesday that don t 
 
 Say, you know how you ll get a fool hunch 
 sometimes, that ll seem such a nutty proposi-
 
 30 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 tion first off that you ll almost laugh at your 
 self for havin it ; and yet how it ll rattle around 
 in your bean persistent, until you quit tryin to 
 get rid of it? Well, this one of mine strikes 
 me about as I m snugglin down into the hay 
 that night, and there was no gettin away from 
 it for hours. 
 
 I expect I did tear off a few chunks of slumber 
 between times; but I was wide awake long be 
 fore my reg lar hour for rollin out, and after 
 makin three or four stabs at a second nap I 
 gives it up, slips down for an early breakfast, and 
 before eight A.M. I m down in the basement of 
 the Corrugated Buildin interviewin the assist 
 ant superintendent in his little coop of an office. 
 I comes out whistlin and lookin wise. And 
 that night after I d made a trip over to Long 
 Island across the Queensboro Bridge I looks 
 wiser still. Nothin to do until next Wednesday. 
 
 And when it comes it sure opens up like it s 
 goin to be a big day, all right! At first Old 
 Hickory announces that he ain t goin to have 
 any cops campin around in the directors room. 
 It was all blithering nonsense ! Hadn t he lived 
 through all sorts of warnin s before And he d 
 be eternally blim-scuttled if he was goin to get 
 cold feet over a few faded flowers ! 
 
 There was Piddie, though, with his say. His 
 idea is to have the reserves from two precincts 
 scattered all over the shop, and he lugs around
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 31 
 
 such a serious face and talks so panicky that at 
 last the boss compromises on havin two of the 
 buildin specials detailed for the job. We smug 
 gles em into the big room at eleven o clock, and 
 tells em to lay low until they gets the word. 
 Next comes Bingstetter, blinkin mysterious, 
 and has himself concealed behind a screen in 
 the private office. By that time Old Hickory 
 is almost as nervous as anybody. 
 
 " Fine state of affairs, things are at now," 
 he growls, " when a man isn t safe unless he has 
 a bodyguard! That s what comes of all this 
 political agitation! " 
 
 * Have no fear, says the Doc ; you will not 
 receive the fifth bouquet. Boy, leave that door 
 into the next room slightly ajar. He will try 
 to escape that way." 
 
 " Ajar she is," says I, proppin it open with 
 a phone directory. 
 
 Tis well, says the Doc. Now leave us. 
 
 I was goin to, anyway; for at exactly noon I 
 had a date somewhere else. There was a win 
 dow openin off the bondroom that was screened 
 by a pile of cases, and out from that was an 
 iron fire escape runnin along the whole court 
 side on our floor. I d picked that window out 
 as bein a good place to scout from. And I 
 couldn t have been better placed ; for I saw just 
 who I was expectin the minute he heaves in 
 sight. I d like to have had one glimpse, though,
 
 32 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 of Old Hickory and the Doc and Piddle while 
 they was watchin and listenin and holdin their 
 breath inside there. But I m near enough when 
 the time comes, to hear that chorus of gasps 
 that s let loose at twelve- twenty-six exact. 
 
 Ha ! says the Doc. * As I told you a 
 red rose! " 
 
 " Well, I ll be slam-whizzled ! " explodes Old 
 Hickory. 
 
 " But but where did it come from? " pants 
 Piddie. " Who who could have 
 
 And that s just when little Willie, after creep- 
 in cautious along the fire escape, gives his un- 
 suspectin victim the snappy elbow tackle from 
 behind and shoves him into view. 
 
 " Here s your desperado! " says I, givin my 
 man the persuadin knee in the small of his 
 back. * * Ah, scramble in there, Old Top ! You 
 ain t goin to be hurt. In with you now! " 
 
 ( Look out!" squeals Piddie. "Police, 
 police! " 
 
 "Ah, can that!" I sings out, helpin my 
 prisoner through the window and followin 
 after. " Police nothin ! Shoo em back, will 
 you? He s as harmless as a kitten." 
 
 " Torchy," calls Old Hickory, recoverin his 
 nerve a little, " what is the meaning of this, and 
 who have you there? " 
 
 " This," says I, straightenin* my man up 
 with a shoulder slap, " is the bearer of the fifth
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 33 
 
 bouquet also the fourth, and the third, and so 
 on. This is Mr. Cubbins of the Consolidated 
 Window Cleanin Company. Ain t that right, 
 eh, old sport? " 
 
 " Enery Cubbins, Sir," says he, scrapin his 
 foot polite and jerkin off his old cap. 
 
 11 And was it you who just threw this thing on 
 my desk? " demands Old Hickory, pointin to 
 the red rose. 
 
 " Meanin no arm at all, Sir, no arm at all," 
 says Cubbins. 
 
 And do I understand that you brought those 
 other flowers in the same way? " goes on Mr. 
 Ellins. 
 
 " Not thinkin you d mind, Sir," says Cub- 
 bins; " but if there s henny hoffense given, I 
 asks pardon, Sir." 
 
 And there couldn t be any mistakin the genu 
 ine tremble in that weak, pipin voice, or the 
 meek look in them watery old eyes. For Cub- 
 bins is more or less of a human wreck, when you 
 come to size him up close, a thin, bent-shoul 
 dered, faded lookin old party, with wispy, 
 whitish hair, a peaked red nose, and a peculiar, 
 whimsical quirk to his mouth corners. Old 
 Hickory looks him over curious for a minute 
 or so. 
 
 " Huh! " he grunts at last. " So you re the 
 one, eh? But why the blue-belted blazes did 
 you do it? "
 
 34 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 All Cubbins does, though, is to finger his cap 
 bashful. 
 
 " "Well, Torchy," says Mr. Ellins, " you seem 
 to be running this show. Perhaps you ll tell 
 us." 
 
 " That s further n I ve got," says I. " You 
 see, when I traced this floral tribute business 
 down to a window washer, I 
 
 " In the name of all that s brilliant," breaks 
 in Old Hickory, " how did you ever do that? " 
 
 " Why, I got to thinkin about it," says I, 
 11 and it struck me that we had our glass cleaned 
 every Wednesday, and if there was no way of 
 anyone smugglin flowers in through the doors, 
 the windows was all there was left, wa n t it! 
 Also who s most likely to be monkeyin around 
 outside, fifteen stories up, but a window 
 washer? " 
 
 1 Ha ! says Old Hickory through his teeth. 
 " And did you do that by the introdeductive 
 process, may I ask? " 
 
 " No such bunk as that," says I. " Just used 
 my bean, that s all. Then I got Mac, the as 
 sistant buildin super, to put me wise as to who 
 had the windows on our floor, and by throwin 
 a bluff over the phone I made the Consolidated 
 people locate Mr. Cubbins for me. Found him 
 putterin round in his garden over in Astoria, 
 and pumped more or less out of him ; but when 
 it come to gettin him to explain why it was he d
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 35 
 
 picked you out, Mr. Ellins, as a mark for his 
 bouquets, I fell down complete. Mr. Cubbins is 
 English, as maybe you noticed by his talk, and 
 he used to be a house painter before his health 
 got so bad. Now he lives with his son-in-law, 
 who tells me that the old gent " 
 
 " E s a bit of a liar, my son-in-law is," pipes 
 up Cubbins; " a bally Socialist, Sir, and I m 
 ashymed to s y as ow e s fond of abusin 
 is betters. Thet s ow it all come abaht, Sir. 
 Alw ys tykin on over the rich, e is; and e s 
 most fond of s yin wrong things abaht you 
 special, Sir; callin you a bloodsuckin , pred 
 atory person, Sir, and himpolite nimes like 
 thet. Ah, stow thet, Jimmy ! ! says I. All 
 bloomin lies, they are. There ayn t a finer 
 man lives than Mr. Ellins, says I. * Ow do you 
 know? says e. * Ow? says I. Don t I wash 
 is hoffice windows? But e keeps at it of 
 evenin s, s yin as ow you do this and that, an 
 e fair talks me down, Jimmy does. But I 
 know w at I knows; so to relieve my feelin s a 
 bit I ve been bringin you the flowers on the sly, 
 Sir; meanin , as I says before, no arm at all, 
 Sir." 
 
 " Well, I ll be dashed! " says Old Hickory, 
 squintin at Cubbins humorous. " So you think 
 I m a good man, eh? " 
 
 "I m quite sure of it, Sir," says he. " As I 
 was tellin Jimmy only last night, * W y, at
 
 36 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 ome e d be a Lord ! And so you would, Sir. 
 But, as I sees it, you re just as much ere, Sir. 
 You build things up, and keep things goin , 
 big things, such as the likes of me and Jimmy 
 mykes our livin from. And it ayn t just your 
 money mykes you a gryte man; it s your brains 
 and your big eart. I know w at I knows, Sir, 
 an I opes as ow you ll tyke no hoifense at the 
 flowers, Sir." 
 
 " Not a bit, Cubbins," says Old Hickory, 
 smilin grim. " In fact, that s a first rate idea 
 of yours. We ought to have some sort of flow 
 ers here all the time. Got many left in your 
 garden, have you, Cubbins? " 
 
 " Plenty, Sir," says Cubbins. " The roses 11 
 be gone soon now, Sir; but there s golden glow, 
 and hasters comin on, and zinnias, and " 
 
 " Then you re engaged, Cubbins," says Old 
 Hickory, " to supply the office with fresh ones 
 every day. When yours give out we ll have to 
 buy some, I suppose. And you ll give up this 
 window cleaning job at once. It s too danger 
 ous. I can t afford to have the only man in the 
 United States who holds a good opinion of me 
 risking his neck like that." 
 
 " Thankee kindly, Sir," says Cubbins, beam- 
 in grateful. " And we ll see w at Jimmy as 
 to s y to that, so we will! r 
 
 " Report that in full," says Old Hickory. 
 11 And, Mr. Piddie, see that Mr. Cubbins name
 
 PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT 37 
 
 goes on the payroll from today. But, by the 
 way, where is your distinguished friend, the 
 scientific investigator! " 
 
 " Why er why " says Piddie, flushin 
 
 up and swallowin hard, " Dr. Bingstetter left 
 a moment ago." 
 
 "Did, eh?" grunts Old Hickory. "He 
 should have stayed awhile and allowed Torchy 
 to give him a few pointers on evolving things 
 from primal facts." 
 
 " Ye-e-e-es, Sir," says Piddie, his face all 
 tinted up lovely. 
 
 Which winds up, as you might say, the Mys 
 tery of the Fifth Bouquet. But, believe me, 
 there ain t any tamer party around the shop 
 these days than this same J. Hemmingway Pid 
 die. And if the old habits get to croppin out 
 any time, all I got to do is shut one eye, put my 
 finger to my lips, and whisper easy, " Ah, go 
 tell that to Doc Bungstarter! " That gets him 
 behavin . 
 
 And Cubbins, why he s blossomed out in a 
 new fall suit, and he stops at the desk every few 
 days to tell me how he put it all over Jimmy the 
 night before. So that was some stroke, what?
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 WHEN IEA SHOWED SOME PEP 
 
 IT was good domework of Mr. Robert s to 
 tip me off about this Higgins party, or there s 
 no knowin how hard a time he might have had 
 gettin through the brass gate. As it is, the 
 minute I spots the watch chain and the round 
 cuffs and the neck freckles, I sizes him up as the 
 expected delegate from the fresh mackerel and 
 blueberry pie district. One of these long, lanky 
 specimens, he is, with a little stoop to his shoul 
 ders, ginger-colored hair and mustache, and a 
 pair of calm, sea-blue eyes that look deep and 
 serious. 
 
 I finds him pacin deliberate up and down the 
 waitin room at eight-fifty-three A.M., which is 
 two minutes ahead of my schedule for openin 
 the Corrugated for gen ral business. His over 
 coat and a crumpled mornin paper are on the 
 bench; so I figures he s been there quite some 
 time. Course, it might have been a stray Rube 
 of most any name; but I thinks I ll take a 
 chance. 
 
 * Mornin , Ira, says I.
 
 " Howdy," says he, as natural as if this was 
 a reg lar habit of ours. Which puts it up to me 
 to find out if I m right, after all. 
 
 " Mr. Higgins, ain t it? " says I. 
 
 He nods. 
 
 " When did you get in? " says I. 
 
 " About six," says he. 
 
 * Come down by train or boat ? says I. 
 
 " Train," says he. 
 
 " You ve had breakfast, I suppose? " I 
 goes on. 
 
 Another nod. Oh, yes, for an economical con- 
 verser, he was about the most consistent breath 
 saver I ever tackled. You could easy go hoarse 
 havin a little chat with him. You d need lots 
 of time too; for after everyone of my bright 
 little sallies Ira looks me over in that quiet, 
 thoughtful way of his, then counts fifty to him 
 self, and fin lly decides whether it 11 be a grunt 
 or just a nod. Gettin information out of him was 
 like liftin a trunk upstairs one step at a time. 
 I manages to drag out, though, that he d been 
 hangin around ever since the buildin was 
 opened by the day watchman at seven o clock. 
 
 " Well," says I, " Mr. Kobert was lookin 
 for you to blow in today ; but not quite so early. 
 It ll be near ten before he shows up. Better 
 come inside and have a comf table chair." 
 
 He takes that proposition up with himself, 
 fin lly passin on it favorable; and from then
 
 40 
 
 on he sits there, with never a move or a blink, 
 watchin solemn all the maneuvers that a bat 
 tery of lady typists has to go through before 
 settlin down for a forenoon s work. I ll bet he 
 could tell you too, a month from now, just how 
 many started with gum, and which ones renewed 
 their facial scenery with dabs from the chamois. 
 
 So you can see why I was some relieved when 
 Mr. Robert arrives and takes him off my hands. 
 I knew from what he d said the day before that 
 he d planned to have about a half-hour inter 
 view with Mr. Higgins ; but when the noon hour 
 struck Ira was still there. At one-fifteen they 
 goes out to lunch together, and at two-thirty 
 they comes back. It s after four when Mr. 
 Robert fin lly comes out to the gate with his 
 brow wrinkled up. 
 
 11 Torchy," says he, " how is your bump of 
 diplomacy today? " 
 
 " It s a dimple, I expect," says I. 
 
 "You re entirely too modest," says he. 
 " Now, I remember several occasions when you 
 have " 
 
 " Oh, I gen rally have my nerve with me, if 
 that s what you mean," says I. 
 
 " But I don t mean that," says he. " Per 
 haps finesse is the better word." 
 
 " It s all the same to me," says I. "If I ve 
 got it in stock, it s yours. What do I work it 
 on?"
 
 WHEN IEA SHOWED SOME PEP 41 
 
 " Mr. Higgins," says he. 
 
 " Then score up a goose egg in advance," 
 says I. It would take a strong-arm hypnotizer 
 to put the spell on Ira." 
 
 Mr. Eobert grins. " Then you have already 
 tested Mr. Higgins conversational powers? 
 says he. 
 
 " Almost lost my voice gettin him to say 
 good mo rain ," says I. " Say, you d think he d 
 done all his talkin by cable, at a dollar a word. 
 Where d he drift in from, anyway ! 
 
 " Boothbay Harbor," says Mr. Robert. 
 
 " Is that a foreign country," says I, " or a 
 nickname for some flag station! 
 
 " It s quite a lively little seaport, I believe," 
 says Mr. Robert, "up on the coast of Maine." 
 
 " Oh, Maine! " says I. " Up there they re 
 willin to call a town anything that ll get a 
 laugh. But what s the rest of the scandal! " 
 
 It wa n t any thrillin tale, though. Seems 
 Mr. Robert had gone into the yachtin regattas 
 as usual this last summer; but, instead of liftin 
 the mugs, as he d been in the habit of doin , 
 he d been beat out by a new entry, beat bad 
 too. But he wouldn t be an Ellins if he let it go 
 at that. Not much! His first move is to find 
 out who built the Stingaree, and his next is to 
 wire in an order to the same firm to turn out a 
 sixty-footer that ll go her just one better. Not 
 gettin any straight answer to that, he sends
 
 42 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 word for the head of the yacht works to 
 come on at his expense. Mr. Higgins is the 
 result. 
 
 " But the deuce of it is," says Mr. Robert, 
 " that, while I m convinced he is the cleverest 
 designer of racing yawls that we have in the 
 whole country, and while he admits quite cheer 
 fully that he can improve on this year s model, 
 I can t get him to say positively that he will 
 build such a boat for me." 
 
 " Yes, I should expect that would be more n 
 he d let go of all in one day," says I. 
 
 11 But, confound it all! " says Mr. Robert, 
 " I want to know now. All I can get out of 
 him, though, is that he can t decide for a while. 
 Seems to have something or other on his mind. 
 Now, if I knew what was bothering him, you see, 
 I might well, you get the point, Torchy. I m 
 going to leave it to you to find out." 
 
 " Me! " says I. " Gee! I ain t any thought 
 extractor, Mr. Robert." 
 
 " But you have rather a knack of getting to 
 the bottom of things," he insists, " and if I 
 should explain to Mr. Higgins my regret at 
 being unable to take him out to dinner, and 
 should present you as my substitute for the 
 evening why, you might get some hint, you 
 see. At least, I wish you d try it." 
 
 " Bring him on, then," says I; " but it s like 
 playin a 30 to 1 shot. Oh, sure, a couple of
 
 WHEN IRA SHOWED SOME PEP 43 
 
 tens 11 be more n enough for all the expense 
 account we can cook up." 
 
 And you should have seen me towin this 
 Down East sphinx around town, showin him 
 the sights, and tryin to locate his chummy 
 streak. It was most like makin a long distance 
 call over a fuzzy wire; me stramin my vocal 
 chords bein chatty, and gettin back only now 
 and then a distant murmur. It was Ira s first 
 trip to a real Guntown, where we have salaried 
 crooks and light up our Main-st. with whisky 
 signs ; but he ain t got any questions to ask or 
 any comments to pass. He just allows them 
 calm eyes of his to wander placid here and there 
 over the passersby, almost like he was expectin 
 to see someone he knew, and takin mighty little 
 notice of anything in partic lar. 
 
 " That s the Metropolitan tower over there, 
 Mr. Higgins," says I. " See the big clock! " 
 
 Ira takes one glance and nods his head. 
 
 " And here comes one of them new double- 
 decker Broadway cars they re tryin out," I 
 goes on. " How s that? " 
 
 But no enthus m from Ira. Must be a hot 
 town, that Boothbay joint! Along about six- 
 thirty I suggests that it s time for the big eats, 
 and tries to sound him on his partic lar fancy 
 in the food line. 
 
 " Plate of fish chowder would suit me," says 
 Ira after due contemplation.
 
 44 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Fish what? " says I. " Fraid we don t 
 grow anything like that on Broadway. Nix on 
 the shore dinner ! You trust it to me, Mr. Hig- 
 gins, and I ll steer you up against some appe 
 tite teasers that ll make you forget all the home 
 cookin you ever met." 
 
 With that I leads him to the flossiest French 
 cafe I knew of, got him planted comf table under 
 an illuminated grape arbor, signals Frangois- 
 with-the-gold-chain-around-his-neck to stand by, 
 and remarks casual, " Wine list for this gen 
 tleman. Cut loose, Mr. Higgins. This is on 
 the boss, you know." 
 
 " What say? " says he, runnin his eye over 
 the book that the waiter holds out. " Rum? 
 No, Sir!" 
 
 " Flit then, Frangois," says I. " We re two 
 dry ones." 
 
 And my hope of gettin a tongue loosener 
 into Ira goes glimmerin . When it comes to 
 tacklin strange dishes, though, he was no quit 
 ter, followin me from bouillabaisse to cafe 
 parfait without battin an eyelash, and me or- 
 derin reckless from the card just to see what 
 the things looked like. 
 
 I don t know whether it was the fancy ra 
 tions, or the sporty crowd around us, or the 
 jiggly music, or a combination of all three ; but 
 by the time I ve induced Mr. Higgins to tackle 
 a demitasse and light up a seven-inch Havana
 
 WHEN IEA SHOWED SOME PEP 45 
 
 lie mellows enough so that he s almost on the 
 point of makin a remark all by himself. 
 
 " Well," says I encouragin , " why not let 
 it come? " 
 
 And it does. " By gorry!! " says he. " It s 
 most eight o clock. What time do the shows 
 begin! " 
 
 " I was just go in to mention that," says I. 
 " Plenty of time, though. Anything special 
 you d like to see! " 
 
 " Why, yes," says he. And then, glancin 
 around cautious, he leans across the table and 
 asks mysterious, " Say, where s Maizie Latour 
 actin ? " 
 
 Honest, it comes out so unexpected he had 
 me gaspin . " Oh, you Boothbay ringer! " says 
 I. " Maizie, eh? Now, who would have thought 
 it? And you only landed this mornin ! Maizie 
 er what was that again? " 
 
 " Latour," says he, flushin up some and try- 
 in not to notice my josh. 
 
 It s by me, says I. Sounds like musical 
 comedy, though. Is she a showgirl, or one of 
 the chicken ballet? " 
 
 Ira shakes his head puzzled. " All I know," 
 says he, " is that she s actin somewhere in 
 New York, and and I d like to find out where. 
 I I got to ! " he adds emphatic. 
 
 " Then you ought to have said that before," 
 says I, * and Mr. Robert would have put one of
 
 46 
 
 his chappy friends on the job. Sorry, but when 
 it comes to chorus girls, I ain t " 
 
 " Hold on! " he breaks in. " You re sort of 
 jumpin at things, Son. The fact is I well, I 
 guess I might s well tell you as anyone. I I 
 got to tell someone." 
 
 " Help! " thinks I. " The dam s goin to 
 give way." 
 
 11 You see," he goes on, " it s like this: Nel 
 lie s an old friend of mine, and " 
 
 " Nellie! " says I. " You just said Maizie." 
 
 " That s what I hear she goes by on the 
 stage," says he. " She was Nellie Mason up 
 to the Harbor." 
 
 " You don t mean it? " says I. " What was 
 she doin there? " 
 
 " She was table girl at the Mansion House," 
 says he. 
 
 " Which? " says I. " Oh, dish juggler, eh? 
 And now she s on the stage? Some jump for 
 Nellie! But, honest now, Higgins, you don t 
 mean to spring one of them mossy Way Down 
 East drammers on me as the true dope? Come 
 now, don t tell me you and she used to go to 
 school together, and all that! " 
 
 No, it wa n t quite on that line. She was only 
 one of Boothbay s fairest daughters by adop 
 tion, havin drifted in from some mill town 
 Biddeford, I think it was where a weaver s 
 strike had thrown her out of a job. She was
 
 half Irish and half French-Canadian, and, ac- 
 cordin to Ira s description, she was some orna 
 mental. 
 
 Anyway, she had the boys all goin in no time 
 at all. Ira was mealin at the Mansion House 
 just then, though; so he was in on the ground 
 floor from the start. Even at that, how he man 
 aged to keep the rail with so much competition 
 is more n I can say; but there s something sort 
 of clean and wholesome lookin about him, and 
 I expect them calm, sea-blue eyes helped along. 
 Anyway, him and Nellie kept comp ny there, 
 I take it, for three or four months quite steady, 
 and Ira admits that he was plumb gone on her. 
 
 " Well, what was the hitch? " says I. 
 " Wouldn t she be Mrs. Higgins? " 
 
 1 Guess she would if I had asked her, says; 
 he ; but I didn t get around to it quick enough. 
 Fact is, I d just bought out the boat shop, and 
 I had fifteen or twenty men to work for me, 
 with four new keels laid down at once, and 
 well, I was mighty rushed with work just then 
 and " 
 
 " I get you," says I. " While you was mak- 
 in up your mind what to say, some wholesale 
 drug drummer with a black mustache won her 
 away. 
 
 It s more complicated than that, though. One 
 of the chambermaids had a cousin who was as 
 sistant property man with a Klaw & Erlanger
 
 48 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 comp ny, and he d sent on the tip how some 
 enterprisin manager was lookin for fifty new 
 faces for a Broadway production; and so, if 
 Cousin Maggie wanted to shake the hotel busi 
 ness, here was her chance. Maggie wanted to, 
 all right; but she lacked the nerve to try it 
 alone. Now, if Nellie would only go along too 
 why 
 
 And it happens this was one night when Ira 
 had overlooked a date he had with Nellie, and 
 that while he was doin overtime at the boat- 
 works Nellie was waitin lonesome on the corner 
 all dressed to go over to South Bristol to a 
 dance. So this bulletin from the great city finds 
 her in a state of mind. 
 
 " Course," says Maggie, " you got a feller, 
 and all that." 
 
 " Humph! " says Nellie. 
 
 " And there s no tellin ," Maggie goes on, 
 glancin at her critical, " if your figure would 
 suit." 
 
 " If they can stand for yours," says Nellie, 
 " I guess I ll take a chance too. Come on. 
 "We ll take the early morning boat." 
 
 And they did. Ira didn t get the details 
 until about a month later, when who should 
 drift back to the Mansion House but Maggie. 
 Along with two or three hundred other brunettes 
 and imitation blondes, she d been shuffled into 
 the discard. But Nellie had been signed up
 
 WHEN IRA SHOWED SOME PEP 49 
 
 first rattle out of the box, and accordin to 
 the one postcard that had come back from her 
 since she was now flaggin as Maizie Latour. 
 But no word at all had come to Ira. 
 
 "If I d only bought that ring sooner! " he 
 sighs. " I ve got it now, though. Bought it in 
 Portland on my way down. See ? and he snaps 
 open a white satin box, disclosin a cute little 
 pearl set in a circle of chip diamonds. 
 
 " That s real dainty and classy," says I. 
 
 " Ought to be," says Ira. " It cost me seven- 
 teen-fifty. But there s so blamed much to this 
 place that I don t see just how I m goin to find 
 her, after all." 
 
 " Ah, cheer up, Ira! " says I. " You ve got 
 me int rested, you have, and, while I ain t any 
 theatrical directory, I expect I could think up 
 
 some way to Why, sure ! There s a Tyson 
 
 stand up here a few blocks, where they have all 
 the casts and programmes. Let s go have a 
 look." 
 
 It wa n t a long hunt, either. The third one 
 we looked at was 1 1 Whoops, Angelina ! and 
 halfway down the list of characters we finds this 
 item: " Sunflower Girls Tessie Trelawney, 
 Mae Collins, Maizie Latour " 
 
 11 Here we are! " says I. " And there s just 
 time to get in for the first curtain." 
 
 Say, I expect you ve seen this " Whoops, An 
 gelina ! thing. Just punk enough to run a
 
 50 
 
 year on Broadway, ain t it? And do you re 
 member there along towards the end of the first 
 spasm where they ring in that * Field Flowers 
 Fair " song, with a deep stage and a diff rent 
 chorus for each verse? Well, as the Sunflowers 
 come on, did you notice special the second one 
 from the right end? That s Maizie. 
 
 And, believe me, she s some queen! Course, 
 it s a bunch of swell lookers all around, or they 
 wouldn t be havin the S. R. 0. sign out so often ; 
 but got up the way she was, with all them yellow 
 petals makin a sort of frame for her, and them 
 big dark eyes rollin bold and sassy, this ex-table 
 girl from the Mansion House stands out some 
 prominent. 
 
 " By gorry! M explodes Ira, as he gets his 
 first glimpse. And from then on he sits with his 
 eyes glued on her as long as she s on the stage. 
 
 He had a good view too ; for comin late all I 
 could get was upper box seats at three a throw, 
 and I shoves Ira close up to the rail. That one 
 remark is all he has to unload durin the whole 
 performance, and somehow I didn t have the 
 heart to break in with any comments. You see, 
 I wa n t sure how he might be takin it; so I 
 waits until the final curtain, and then nudges 
 him out of his dream. 
 
 " Well, how about it? " says I. " Ready to 
 scratch your entry now, are you? " 
 
 Eh ? " says he, rousin up. " Pull out ? No, 
 
 . .
 
 "BY GORRY!" EXPLODES IRA AS HE
 
 WHEN IRA SHOWED SOME PEP 51 
 
 Sir ! I I m going to give her a chance to take 
 that ring." 
 
 " You are? " says I. " Well, well! Bight 
 there with the pep, ain t you? But how you 
 goin to manage it? " 
 
 " Why, I I don t know," says he, lookin 
 blank. Say, Son, can t you fix it for me some 
 way? I I want Nellie to go back with me. If 
 I could only see her for a minute, and explain 
 how it was I couldn t " 
 
 * * You win, Ira ! says I. * Hanged if there 
 ain t Tucky Moller down there in an usher s 
 uniform. He s an old friend of mine. We ll 
 see what he can do. 
 
 Tucky was willin enough too; but the best he 
 can promise is to smuggle a note into the dress- 
 in rooms. We waits in the lobby for the an 
 swer, and inside of five minutes we has it. 
 
 " Ain t they the limit, these spotlight chas 
 ers? " says Tucky. " She tells me to chuck it 
 in the basket with the others, and says she ll 
 read it to-morrow. Huh! And only a quarter 
 tip after the second act when I lugs her in a bid 
 to a cabaret supper! " 
 
 " Tonight? " says I. " Where at, Tucky? " 
 
 " Looey s," says he, " with a broker guy 
 that s beenbuyin B-10 every night for a week." 
 
 But when I leads Ira outside and tries to ex 
 plain how the case stands, and breaks it to him 
 gentle that his stock has taken a sudden slump,
 
 52 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 it develops that he s one of these gents who 
 don t know when they re crossed off. 
 
 " I ve got to see her tonight, that s all," says 
 he. * * What s the matter with our going to the 
 same place! " 
 
 " For one thing," says I, " they wouldn t let 
 us in without our open-faced clothes on. Got 
 yours with you! " 
 
 " Full evenin dress? " says Ira, with his 
 eyes bugged. " Why, I never had any." 
 
 " Then it s by-by, Maizie," says I. 
 
 " Dog-goned if it is! " says he. " Guess I 
 can wait around outside, can t I? " 
 
 " Well, you have got sportin blood, Ira," 
 says I. " Sure, there s nothin to stop your 
 waitin if you don t block the traffic. But maybe 
 it ll be an hour or more." 
 
 " I don t care," says he. " And and let s 
 go and have a glass of soda first." 
 
 Course, I couldn t go away and leave things 
 all up in the air like that ; so after Ira d blown 
 himself we wanders up to the cabaret joint and 
 I helps him stick around. 
 
 It s some lively scene in front of Looey s at 
 that time of night too ; with all the taxi s comin 
 and goin and the kalsomined complexions 
 drif tin in and out, and the head waiters coppin 
 out the five-spots dexterous. And every little 
 while there s something extra doin ; like a 
 couple of college hicks bein led out by the
 
 WHEN TEA SHOWED SOME PEP 53 
 
 strong-arm squad for disputin a bill, or a per 
 fect gent all ablaze bavin a debate witb his lady 
 love, or a bunch of out-of-town buyers discov- 
 erin the evenin dress rule for the first time and 
 gettin peeved over it. 
 
 But nothin can drag Ira s gaze from that 
 revolvin exit door for more n half a minute. 
 There he stands, watchin eager every couple 
 that comes out; not excited or fidgety, you un 
 derstand, but calm and in dead earnest. It got 
 to be midnight, then half past, then quarter to 
 one; and then all of a sudden there comes a 
 ripplin , high-pitched laugh, and out trips a 
 giddy-dressed fairy in a gilt and rhinestone 
 turban effect with a tall plume stickin straight 
 up from the front of it. She s one of these big, 
 full-curved, golden brunettes, with long jet 
 danglers in her ears and all the haughty airs of 
 a grand opera star. I didn t dream it was the 
 one we was lookin for until I sees Ira straighten 
 up and step out to meet her. 
 
 " Nellie," says- he, sort of choky and 
 pleadin . 
 
 It s a misfire, though; for just then she s 
 turned to finish some remark to a fat old sport 
 with flat ears and bags under his eyes that s 
 followin close behind. So it ain t until she s 
 within a few feet of Higgins that she sees him 
 at all. Then she stares at him sort of doubtful, 
 like she could hardly believe her eyes.
 
 54 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 " Nellie," he begins again, " I ve been want 
 ing to tell you liow it was that " 
 
 * You ! she breaks in. And with that she 
 throws her head back and laughs. It wa n t 
 what you might call a pleasant laugh, either. 
 It sounds cold and hard and bitter. 
 
 That s the extent of the reunion too. She s 
 still laughin as she brushes by him and lets 
 the old sport help her into the taxi; and a sec 
 ond later we re left standin there at the edge 
 of the curb with another taxi rollin up in front 
 of us. I notices that Ira s holdin something 
 in his hand that he s starin at foolish. It s the 
 satin box with the seventeen-fifty ring in it. 
 
 " Well," says I, as we steps back, " returns 
 all in, ain t they! " 
 
 " Not by a long shot! " says Ira. " Dinged 
 if I don t know someone that ll be glad to take 
 a ring from me, and that s Maggie! 
 
 " Whew! " says I. " Well, that s some quick 
 shift. Then you ain t goin to linger round with 
 a busted heart? " 
 
 Not much ! says Ira. Guess I Ve played 
 fool about long enough. I m goin home." 
 
 11 That s gen rally a safe bet too," says I. 
 " But how about buildin that boat for Mr. 
 Robert? " 
 
 " I ll build it," says he; " that is, soon as I 
 can fix it up with Maggie." 
 
 " Then it s a cinch," says I; " for you look
 
 WHEN IEA SHOWED SOME PEP 55 
 
 to me, Ira, like one of the kind that can come 
 back strong." 
 
 So, you see, I had somethin* definite to re 
 port next mornin . 
 
 "He will, eh? Bully!" says Mr. Robert. 
 " But why couldn t he have said as much to me 
 yesterday? What was the trouble? " 
 
 11 Case of moth chasin ," says I, " from the 
 kerosene circuit to the white lights. But, say, 
 I didn t know before that Broadway had so 
 many recruitin stations. They ought to put 
 Boothbay Harbor on the map for this."
 
 CHAPTEE IV 
 
 TOBCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 
 
 GUESS I ain t mentioned Mortimer before. 
 Didn t seem hardly worth while. You know 
 there are parties like that, too triflin to do any 
 beefin about. But, honest, for awhile there first 
 off this young shrimp that was just makin 
 his debut as one of Miller s subslaves in the 
 bondroom did get on my nerves more or less. 
 He s a slim, fine-haired, fair-lookin young gent, 
 with quick, nervous ways and a habit of holdin 
 his chin well up. No boob, you understand. He 
 was a live one, all right. 
 
 And it wa n t his havin his monogram em 
 broidered on his shirt sleeves or his wearin a 
 walkin stick down to work that got me sore. 
 But you don t look for the raw rebuff from one 
 of these twelve-dollar file jugglers. That s what 
 he slips me, though, and me only tryin to put 
 across the cheery greetin ! 
 
 " Well, Percy," says I, seein him wanderin 
 around lonesome durin lunch hour, " is it you 
 for the Folies today, or are you takin a chance 
 on one of them new automatic grub factories 
 with me? " 
 
 56
 
 TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 57 
 
 " Beg pardon? " says he, givin me that 
 frigid, distant look. 
 
 11 Ah, can the hauteur! " says I. " We re on 
 the same payroll. Maybe you didn t notice me 
 before, though. Well, I m the guardian of the 
 gate, and I m offerin to tow you to a new sand 
 wich works that s quite popular with the staff." 
 
 " Thanks," says he. "I am lunching at my 
 club." And with that he does a careless heel- 
 spin, leavin me stunned and gawpin . 
 
 " Slap! " thinks I. " You will go doin the 
 little ray of sunshine act, will you! Lunchin at 
 his club! Now there s a classy comeback for 
 you! Guess I ll spring that myself sometime- 
 Score up for Percy! " 
 
 But I wa n t closin the incident at that, and, 
 while in my position it wouldn t have been 
 hardly the thing for me to get out the war club 
 and camp on his trail, him only a four-flushin 
 bond clerk, I was holdin myself ready for the 
 next openin . It comes only a few mornin s 
 later when he strolls in casual about nine-thirty 
 and starts to pike by into the cloakroom. But 
 I had my toe against the brass gate. 
 
 " What name? " says I. 
 
 * Why, says he, flushin up, I er I work 
 here." 
 
 " Excuse," says I, drawin back the foot. 
 Mistook you for Alfy Vanderbilt come to buy 
 us out."
 
 58 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 "Puppy!" says lie explosive through his 
 front teeth. 
 
 " Meanin me? " says I. " Why, Algernon! 
 How rough of you! " 
 
 He just glares back over his shoulder and 
 passes on for his session with Miller. I ll bet he 
 got it too ; for here in the Corrugated we don t 
 stand for any of that nine-thirty dope except 
 from Mr. Robert. 
 
 It s only the next week, though, that Morti 
 mer pulls a couple more delayed entrances in 
 succession, and I sure was lookin to see him 
 come out with a fresh-air pass in his hand. But 
 it didn t happen. Instead, as I m in Old Hick 
 ory s office a few days later, allowin him to 
 give me a few fool directions about an errand, 
 in breaks Miller all glowin under the collar. 
 
 " Mr. Ellins," says he, "I can t stand that 
 young Upton. He s got to go ! " 
 
 " That s too bad," says Old Hickory, shiftin 
 his cigar to port. "I d promised his father to 
 give the boy a three months trial at least. One 
 of our big stockholders, Colonel Upton is, you 
 know. But if you say you can t 
 
 " Oh, I suppose I can, Sir, in that case," says 
 Miller; "but he s worse than useless in the 
 department, and if there s no way of getting 
 him to observe office hours it s going to be bad 
 for discipline." 
 
 " Try docking him, Miller," suggests Mr.
 
 TOECHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 59 
 
 Ellins. " Dock him heavy. And pile on the 
 work. Keep him on the jump. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says Miller, grinnin at me as he 
 goes out. 
 
 And of course this throws a brighter light on 
 Mortimer s case, pampered son takin his 
 first whirl at honest toil, and all that. Then 
 later in the day I gets a little private illumina 
 tion. Mother arrives. Eather a gushy, talky 
 party she is, with big, snappy eyes like Morti 
 mer s, and the same haughty airs. Just now, 
 though, she s a little puffy from excitement and 
 deep emotion. 
 
 Seems Mother and Sister Janice are on their 
 way to the steamer, billed to spend the winter 
 abroad. Also it develops that stern Father, 
 standin grim and bored in the background, has 
 ruled that Son mustn t quit business for any 
 farewell lallygaggin at the pier. Hence the 
 fam ly call. As the touchin scene all takes 
 place in the reception room, just across the 
 brass rail from my desk, I m almost one of the 
 party. 
 
 11 Oh, my darling boy! " wails Ma, pushin 
 back her veils and wrappin him in the fond 
 clinch. 
 
 " Aw, Mother! " protests Mortimer. 
 
 " But we are to be so far apart," she goes on, 
 " and with your father in California you are 
 to be all alone ! And I just know you 11 be for-
 
 60 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 lorn and lonesome in that dreadful boarding 
 house! Oh, it is perfectly awful! " 
 
 " Oh, quit it, Mother. I ll be all right," says 
 Mortimer. 
 
 " But the work here," comes back Mother. 
 " Does it come so hard! How are you to stand 
 it? Oh, if you had only kept on at college, then 
 all this wouldn t have been necessary." 
 
 " Well, I didn t, that s all," says Mortimer; 
 " so what s the use? " 
 
 " I shall worry about you all the time," in 
 sists Mother. " And you are so careless about 
 writing! How am I to know that you are not 
 ill, or in trouble? Now promise me, if you 
 should break down under the strain, that you 
 will cable me at once. 
 
 11 Oh, sure! " says Mortimer. " But time s 
 up, Mother. I must be getting back. Good- 
 by." 
 
 I had to turn my shoulder on the final break 
 away, and I thought the whole push had cleared 
 out, when I hears a rustle at the gate, and here s 
 Mother once more, with her eyes fixed investi- 
 gatin on me. 
 
 " Boy," says she, " are you employed here 
 regularly? " 
 
 "I m one of the fixtures, Ma am," says I. 
 
 " Very well," says she. " I am glad to hear 
 it. And you have rather an intelligent appear- 
 _ance."
 
 TOBCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 61 
 
 * Mostly bluff, though, says I. * You must- 
 n t bank too much on looks." 
 
 " Ah, but I can tell! " says she, noddin her 
 head and squintin shrewd. " You have a kind 
 face too." 
 
 11 Ye-e-esl " says I. " But what s this cue 
 for! " 
 
 " I will tell you, Boy," says she, comin up 
 confidential. " You see, I must trust someone 
 in this matter. And you will be right here, 
 where you can see him every day, won t you 
 my son Mortimer, I mean! " 
 
 " I expect I ll have to," says I, " if he 
 sticks. 
 
 " Then you must do this for me," she goes 
 on. " Keep close to him. Make yourself his 
 friend." 
 
 " Me! " says I. " Well, there might be some 
 trouble about that." 
 
 " I understand," says she. " It will be diffi 
 cult, under the circumstances. And Mortimer 
 has such a proud, reserved nature ! He has al 
 ways been that way. But now that he is thrown 
 upon his own resources, and if you could once 
 gain his confidence, he might allow you to well, 
 you ll try, won t you! And then I shall depend 
 upon you to send word to me once every week as 
 to how he looks, if he seems happy, how he is 
 getting on in business, and so on. Come, do 
 you promise! "
 
 62 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 * Is this a case, of philanthropy, or what ? 
 says I. 
 
 " Oh, I shall see that you are well repaid," 
 says she. 
 
 " That listens well," says I; " but it s kind 
 of vague. Any figures, now? " 
 
 " Why er yes," says she, hesitatin . 
 " Suppose I should send you, say, five dollars 
 for every satisfactory report? 
 
 " Then I m on the job," says I. 
 
 And in two minutes more she s left me the ad 
 dress of her London bankers, patted me con- 
 descendin on the shoulder, and has flitted. So 
 here I am with a brand new side line, an as 
 signment to be friendly at so much per. Can 
 you beat that? 
 
 It wa n t until afterwards, either, when I m 
 busy throwin on the screen pictures of how that 
 extra five 11 fat up the Saturday pay envelope, 
 that I remembers the exact wordin of the con 
 tract. Five for every satisfactory report. Gee ! 
 that s different! Then here s where I got to 
 see that Mortimer behaves, or else I lose out. 
 And I don t waste any time plannin the cam 
 paign. I tackles him as he strolls out thirty 
 seconds ahead of the twelve o clock whistle. 
 
 " After another one of them clubby 
 lunches? " says I. 
 
 " What s that to you? " he growls. 
 
 "I m int rested, that s all," says I.
 
 TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 63 
 
 " Oh, no, you re not," says he; " you re just 
 fresh." 
 
 " Ah, come now, Morty " says I. " This 
 ain t no reg lar feud we re indulgin in, you 
 know. Ditch the rude retort and lemme tow 
 you to a joint where for 
 
 " Thanks," says Mortimer. " I prefer my 
 own company." 
 
 * Gee ! what poor taste ! says I. 
 
 And it looked like I d gone and bugged any 
 five-spot prospects with my first try. 
 
 So I lets Mortimer simmer for a few days, 
 not makin any more cracks, friendly or other 
 wise. I was about to hand in a blank report too, 
 when one noon he sort of hesitates as he passes 
 the desk, and then stops. 
 
 " I say," he begins, " show me that cheap 
 luncheon place you spoke of, will you? " 
 
 It s more of an order than anything else; but 
 that only makes this sudden shift of his more 
 amusin . " Why, sure," says I. " Soured on 
 the club, have you? " 
 
 Not exactly, says he ; * but well, the fact 
 is, Father must have forgotten to send a check 
 for last month s bill, and I m on the board 
 posted, you know." 
 
 1 Then that wa n t any funny dream of yours, 
 eh," says I, " this club business? Which is it, 
 Lotos or the Union League ? 
 
 " It s my frat club, of course," says Mor-
 
 4 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 timer. " And I don t mind saying that it s a 
 deucedly expensive place for me to go, even 
 when I can sign checks for my meals. I m al 
 ways being dragged into billiards, dollar a cor 
 ner, and that sort of thing. It counts up, and 
 I I m running rather close to the wind just 
 now. 
 
 " What! And you gettin twelve? " says I. 
 " Why, say, some supports f am lies on that. 
 Takes managin , though. But I ll steer you 
 round to Max s, where for a quarter you 
 can " 
 
 1 A quarter ! breaks in Mortimer. * * But 
 but that s more than I have left." 
 
 " And this only Wednesday! " says I. " Gee ! 
 but you have been goin the pace, ain t you? 
 What is the sum total of the reserve, anyway? 
 
 Mortimer scoops into his trousers pockets, 
 fishin up a silver knife, a gold cigar clipper, and 
 seventeen cents cash. 
 
 Well, well ! says I. That is gettin down 
 to hardpan! It s breakin one of my business 
 rules, but I see where I underwrite your lunch 
 ticket for the next few days." 
 
 " You mean you re going to stake me? " says 
 he. " But why? " 
 
 " Well, it ain t on account of your winnin 
 ways," says I. 
 
 "Humph!" says he. "Here! You may 
 have this stickpin as security."
 
 TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 65 
 
 1 i Gwan ! says I. "I ain t no loan shark. 
 Maybe I m just makin an investment in you. 
 Come on to Max s." 
 
 I could see Mortimer s nose begin to turn up 
 as we crowds in at a table where a couple of 
 packers from the china store next door was do- 
 in the sword swallowin act. " What a noisy, 
 messy place ! " says he. 
 
 " The service ain t quite up to Louis Mar 
 tin s, that s a fact," says I; " but then, there s 
 no extra charge for the butter and toothpicks." 
 
 We tried the dairy lunch next time; but he 
 don t like that much better. Pushin up to the 
 coffee urn with the mob, and havin a tongue 
 sandwich slammed down in front of him by a 
 grub hustler that hadn t been to a manicure 
 lately was only a couple of the details Mortimer 
 shies at. 
 
 " Ah, you ll soon get to overlook little things 
 like that," says I. 
 
 Mortimer shakes his head positive. " It s 
 the disgusting crowd one has to mingle with," 
 says he. " Such a cheap lot of of rough 
 necks! " 
 
 " Huh! " says I. " Lots of em are pullin 
 down more n you or me. Some of em are al 
 most human too." 
 
 " I don t care," says he. "I dislike to mix 
 with them. It s bad enough at the boarding 
 house."
 
 66 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " None of the aristocracy there, either? 
 says I. 
 
 " They re freaks, all of them," says he. 
 What do you think one fellow wears an out 
 ing shirt in to dinner! Then there s an old 
 person with gray whiskers who well, I can t 
 bear to watch him. The others are almost as 
 bad." 
 
 " When you get to know the bunch you won t 
 mind," says I. 
 
 " But I don t care to know them," says Mor 
 timer. " I haven t spoken to a soul, and don t 
 intend to. They re not my kind, you see." 
 
 " Are you boastin , or complainin ? " says 
 I. " Anyway, you re in for a lonesome time. 
 What do you do evenin s? 
 
 " Walk around until I m tired, that s all," 
 says he. 
 
 " That s excitin I don t think," says I. 
 
 Next he branches off on Miller, and starts 
 tellin me what a deep and lastin grouch he d 
 accumulated against his boss. But I ain t en- 
 couragin any hammer play of that kind. 
 
 " Stow it, Morty," says I. "I m wise to all 
 that. Besides, you ought to know you can t hold 
 a job and come floatin in at any old hour. No 
 wonder you got in Dutch with him ! Say, is this 
 your first stab at real work? 
 
 He admits that it is, and when I gets him to 
 describe how he s been killin time when he
 
 TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 67 
 
 wa n t in college it develops that one of his prin 
 cipal playthings has been a six-cylinder road 
 ster, mile-a-minute brand, mostly engine and 
 gastank, with just space enough left for the 
 driver to snuggle in among the levers on the 
 small of his back. 
 
 " I ve had her up to sixty-five an hour on 
 some of those Rhode Island oiled stretches," 
 says Mortimer. 
 
 " I expect," says I. " And what was it you 
 hit last? " 
 
 "Eh?" says he. "Oh, I see! A milk 
 wagon. Rather stiff damages they got out of 
 us, with the hospital and doctor s bills and all 
 that. But it was more the way I was roasted by 
 the blamed newspapers that made Father so 
 sore. Then my being canned from college soon 
 after well, that finished it. So he sends Mother 
 and Sis off to Europe, goes on a business trip 
 to California himself, closes the house, and 
 chucks me into this job." 
 
 " Kind of poor trainin for it, I ll admit," 
 says I. " But buck up, Morty; we ll do our 
 best." 
 
 " We? " says he, liftin his eyebrows. 
 
 Uh-huh, says I. Me and you. 
 
 " What s it got to do with you? I d like to 
 know! " he demands. 
 
 " I ve been retained," says I. " Never you 
 mind how, but I m here to pass out the friendly
 
 68 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 shove, coach you along, see that you make 
 good." 
 
 " Well, I like your nerve! " says he, stop- 
 pin short as we re crossin Broadway. " A 
 young mucker like you help me make good! 
 Say, that s rich, that is! Huh! But why don t 
 you? Come ahead with it, now, if you re such 
 an expert! " 
 
 It was a dare, all right. And for a minute 
 there we looked each other over scornful, until 
 I decides that I ll carry on the friend act if I 
 have to risk gettin my head punched. 
 
 " First off, Mortimer," says I, " forgettin 
 what a great man you are so long as Father s 
 payin the bills, let s figure on just what your 
 standin is now. You re a bum bond clerk, 
 on the ragged edge of bein fired, ain t 
 you? " 
 
 He winces some at that; but he still has a 
 comeback. "If it wasn t for that bonehead 
 Miller, I d get on," he growls. 
 
 Bah ! says I. He s only layin down the 
 rules of the game; so it s up to you to fol 
 low em." 
 
 " But he s unreasonable," whines Mortimer. 
 " He snoops around after me, finds fault with 
 everything I do, and fines me for being a little 
 late mornings." 
 
 I takes a long breath and swallows hard. 
 Next I tries to strike the saintly pose, and then
 
 TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 69 
 
 I unreels the copybook dope just like I believed 
 it myself. 
 
 " He does, eh? " says I. " Then beat him to 
 it. Don t be late. Show up at eight- thirty in 
 stead of nine. That extra half -hour ain t goin* 
 to kill you. Be the last to quit too. Play up 
 to Miller. Do things the way he wants em 
 done, even if you have to do em over a dozen 
 times. And use your bean." 
 
 " But it s petty, insignificant work," says 
 Mortimer. 
 
 " All the worse for you if you can t swing 
 it, says I. See here, now how are you go- 
 in to feel afterwards if you ve always got to 
 look back on the fact that you begun by fallin* 
 down on a twelve-dollar job? " 
 
 Must have got Mortimer in the short ribs, that 
 last shot; for he walks all the rest of the way 
 back to the Corrugated without sayin a word. 
 Then, just as we gets into the elevator, he un 
 loosens. 
 
 " I don t believe it will do any good to 
 try," says he; " but I ve a mind to give it a 
 whirl. 
 
 I didn t say so, but that was the first thing 
 we d agreed on that day. So that night I has to 
 send off a report which reads like this : 
 
 Mortimer s health O. K.; disposition ragged; business pros 
 pects punk. 
 Hoping you are the same, TORCHY.
 
 70 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 It s a wonder Mortimer didn t have mental 
 indigestion, with all that load of gilt-edged ad 
 vice on his mind, and I wa n t lookin for him 
 to lug it much further n the door; but, if you ll 
 believe me, he seems to take it serious. Every 
 mornin after that I finds his hat on the hook 
 when I come in, and whenever I gets a glimpse 
 of him durin the day he has his coat off and is 
 makin a noise like the busy bee. At this it takes 
 some time before he makes an impression on 
 Miller; but fin lly Morty comes out to me with a 
 bulletin that seems to tickle him all over. 
 
 " What do you know? " says he. " When 
 Miller was looking over some of my work to 
 day he breaks out with, Very good, Upton. 
 Keep it up. " 
 
 " Well, I expect you told him to chase him 
 self, eh? " says I. 
 
 * No, says Mortimer. * * I sprung that new 
 scheme of mine for filing the back records, and 
 perhaps he s going to adopt it." 
 
 " Think of that! " says I. " Say, you keep 
 on, and you ll be presented with that job for 
 life. But, honest, you don t find Miller such a 
 fish, do you? " 
 
 " Oh, I guess he s all right in his way," says 
 Mortimer. 
 
 " Then brace yourself, Morty," says I, 
 " while I slip you some more golden words. 
 Tackle that boardin house bunch of yours. Ah,
 
 TOUCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 71 
 
 hold your breath while you re doin it, if you 
 want to, and spray yourself afterwards with dis 
 infectant, but see if you can t learn to mix in." 
 
 * But why 1 says he. * * I can t see the use. 
 
 " Say, for the love of Pete," says I, " ain t 
 it hard enough for me to press out all this wise 
 dope without drawin diagrams ? I don t know 
 why, only you should. Go on now, take it from 
 me." 
 
 Maybe it was followin my hunch, or maybe 
 there wa n t anything else for him to do, but 
 blamed if this didn t work too. Inside of two 
 weeks he gives me the whole tale, one day as 
 we re sittin in the armchairs at the dairy lunch. 
 
 Eemember my telling you about the fellow 
 who wore the outing shirt? " says he. " Well, 
 say, he s quite a chap, you know. He s from 
 some little town out in Wyoming, and he s on 
 here trying to be a cartoonist runs a hoisting 
 engine day times and goes to an art school even 
 ings. How s that, eh! " 
 
 " Sounds batty," says I. " There s most as 
 many would-be cartoonists as there are nutty 
 ones tryin to write plays for Belasco." 
 
 " But this Blake s going to get there," says 
 Mortimer. " I was up in his room Sunday, and 
 he showed me some of his work. Clever stuff, 
 a lot of it. He s landed a couple of things al 
 ready. Then there s old man McQuade, the 
 one with the whiskers. Say, he s been all over
 
 72 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 the world, Siberia, Africa, Japan, South 
 America. Used to be selling agent for a mill 
 supply firm. He has all his savings invested in 
 an Egyptian cotton plantation that hasn t be 
 gun to pay yet, but he thinks it will soon. You 
 ought to hear the yarns he can spin, though! : 
 
 11 So-o-o? "says I. 
 
 " But Aronwitz is the fellow I m traveling 
 around with most just now," goes on Mortimer 
 enthusiastic. " Say, he s a wonder ! Been over 
 here from Hungary only six years, worked his 
 way through Columbia, copping an A. M. and 
 an A. B., and sending back money to his old 
 mother right along. He s a Socialist, or some 
 thing, and writes for one of those East Side 
 papers. Then evenings he teaches manual 
 training in a slum settlement house. He took 
 me over with him the other night and got me 
 to help him with his boys. My, but they re a 
 bright lot of youngsters right off the street 
 too ! I ve promised to take a class myself." 
 
 " In what," says I, " table etiquette? " 
 
 "I m going to start by explaining to them 
 how a gasolene engine works," says Mortimer. 
 " They re crazy to learn anything like that. It 
 will be great sport." 
 
 " Mortimer," says I, " a little more of that, 
 and I ll believe you re the guy that put the seed 
 in succeed. Anyone wouldn t guess you was 
 doin penance. "
 
 TOKCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM 73 
 
 " I feel that I m really living at last," says 
 he in earnest. 
 
 So in that next report to Mother, after I d 
 thanked her for the last check and filled in 
 the usual health chart and so on, I proceeds 
 to throw in a few extras about how Son was 
 makin the great discovery that most folks was 
 more or less human, after all. Oh, I spread 
 myself on that part of it, givin full details! 
 
 11 And if that don t charm an extra five out 
 of the old girl," thinks I, " I miss my guess." 
 
 Does it? Well, say, that happy thought stays 
 with me for about ten days. At times I figured 
 the bonus might be as high as a fifty. And 
 then one mornin here comes a ruddy-faced old 
 party that I spots as Colonel Upton. He calls 
 for Mortimer, and the two of em has a ten- 
 minute chat in the corridor. Afterwards Morty 
 interviews Miller, and when he comes out next 
 he has his hat and overcoat with him. 
 
 So long, Torchy, says he. "I m leaving. > 
 
 " Not for good!" says I. "What s 
 wrong? " 
 
 " Mother," says he. " In some way she s 
 found out about the sort of people I ve been 
 going around with, and she s kicked up a great 
 row, got Father on the cable, and well, it s all 
 off. I m to travel abroad for a year or so to 
 get it out of my system." 
 
 " Gee! " says I as he goes out to join the
 
 74 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Colonel. * * Talk about boobing a swell proposi 
 tion! But that was too good to last, anyway. 
 And, believe me, if I m ever asked again to be 
 friendly on a salary, I bet I don t overdo the 
 thing. "
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 
 
 HE S a great old scout, Mr. Ellins. But he 
 always knows where he wants to get off, all 
 right. He don t whisper his ideas on the sub 
 ject, either. 
 
 " Boy," says he the other mornin as I an 
 swers the buzzer, " I am expecting two young 
 persons to call this forenoon, two young wards 
 of mine. Huh ! Wards ! As though I wasn t 
 
 busy enough with my own affairs without 
 
 But never mind. Chandler is the name." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says I. " Chandler. Rush em 
 right in, shall I? " 
 
 " No! " snorts Old Hickory. " What I want 
 you to do is to use a little sense, if you have any. 
 Now, here ! I have a committee meeting at ten ; 
 those K. & T. people will be here at ten-forty- 
 five; and after that I can t say whether I ll be 
 free or not. Of course I must see the young 
 nuisances; but meantime I want to forget em. 
 I am trusting to you to work em in when they ll 
 be the least bother." 
 
 Got you, says I. Chink in with Chand 
 lers. Yes, Sir. Anything more? " 
 
 75
 
 76 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 No. Get out ! " he snaps. 
 
 Fair imitation of a grouch, eh? But you got 
 to get used to Old Hickory. Besides, there was 
 some excuse for his bein peeved, havin a pair 
 of kids camp down on him this way. Course I 
 was wise to the other details. Didn t I take their 
 phone message to Mr. Robert only the day be 
 fore, and send back the answer for em to come 
 on? 
 
 Seems this was a case of a second cousin, or 
 something like that, a nutty college professor, 
 who d gone and left a will makin Mr. Ellins a 
 guardian without so much as askin by your 
 leave. There was a Mrs. Chandler; but she 
 don t figure in the guardianship. The young 
 sters had been in school somewhere near Bos 
 ton; but, this bein the holidays, what do they 
 do but turn up in New York and express a wild 
 desire to see dear old Guardy. 
 
 " Gee! " thinks I. " They don t know when 
 they re well off." 
 
 For Old Hickory ain t got a lot of use for 
 the average young person. I ve heard him ex 
 press his sentiments on that point. " Impu 
 dent, ill-mannered, selfish, spoiled young bar 
 barians, the boys," says he, " and the girls 
 aren t much better, silly, giggling young chat 
 terboxes! " 
 
 And the way I has it framed up, this was 
 rather a foxy move of the young Chandlers, dis-
 
 coverin their swell New York relations just as 
 the holiday season was openin . So I don t fig 
 ure that the situation calls for any open-arm 
 motions on my part. No, nothin like that. I m 
 here to give em their first touch of frost. 
 
 So about eleven-fifteen, as I glances across 
 the brass rail and sees this pair advancin sort 
 of uncertain, I m all prepared to cause a drop in 
 the mercury. They wa n t exactly the type I 
 had in mind, though. What I d expected was a 
 brace of high school cutups. But these two are 
 older than that. 
 
 The young fellow was one of these big-boned, 
 wide-shouldered chaps, with a heavy, serious 
 look to his face, almost dull. I couldn t tell at 
 first look whether he was a live wire or not. No 
 such suspicions about the girl. She ain t what 
 you d call a queen, exactly. She s too tall and 
 her face is too long for that. Kind of a cute 
 sort of face, though, with rather a wide mouth 
 that she can twist into a weird, one-sided smile. 
 But after one look at them lively blue eyes you 
 knew she wa n t walkin in her sleep. It s my 
 cue, though, to let em guess what nuisances 
 they were. 
 
 * May I see Mr. Ellins ? says the young 
 chap. 
 
 " Cards," says I. 
 
 He produces the pasteboards. 
 
 " Oh, yes! " I goes on. " The wards, eh?
 
 78 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 Marjorie Chandler, Dudley Winthrop Chandler. 
 Well, you ve picked out a busy day, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, have we? " says Marjorie. " There, 
 Dud! I was afraid we might. Perhaps we d 
 better not call, after all." 
 
 " Good! " says Dudley. " I didn t want to, 
 anyway. W T e can just send in our cards and 
 leave word that we " 
 
 " Ah, can it! " says I. " Mr. Ellins is ex- 
 pectin you ; only he ain t a man you can walk 
 in on casual." 
 
 " But really," puts in Marjorie, " it s just 
 as well if we don t see him." 
 
 11 Yes, and get me fired for not carryin out 
 instructions, says I. * My orders are to work 
 you in when there s a chance." 
 
 " Oh, in that case," says Marjorie, " perhaps 
 we had better wait. We don t wish to cause 
 trouble for anyone, especially such a bright, 
 charming young " 
 
 " Nix on the josh," says I. " And have a 
 seat while I skirmish." 
 
 " Very well, then," says she, screwin her 
 face up cunnin and handin me one of them 
 crooked smiles. 
 
 Say, she pretty near had me go in right from 
 the start. And as I tiptoes into the boss s room 
 I sees he ain t do in anything more important 
 than signin letters.
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 79 
 
 " They re here," says I, " the wards. Is it 
 all right to run em in now? " 
 
 He grunts, nods his head, and keeps on writ- 
 in . So I strolls back to the reception room. 
 
 11 All right," says I. " I ve fixed it up for 
 you." 
 
 " Now, wasn t that sweet in you? " gurgles 
 Marjorie, glancin sideways at Brother. I 
 couldn t swear it was a wink, either; but it s 
 one of them knowin fam ly looks, and she fol 
 lows it up with a ripply sort of a giggle. 
 
 " That s right! " says I. " Have all the fun 
 you want with me; but I d warn you to ditch 
 the mirth stuff while you re on the carpet. Mr. 
 Ellins don t like it." 
 
 11 How interesting! " says Marjorie. " Dud 
 ley, I hope you understand. We must ditch the 
 mirth stuff. 
 
 They swaps another grin at that, and I have 
 a suspicion I m bein kidded. Just for that too 
 I decides to stick around while they re gettin 
 theirs from Old Hickory. 
 
 " This way," says I cold and haughty, as I 
 tows em into the private office. 
 
 Mr. Ellins lets em stand there a minute or 
 so without sayin a word, and then he turns and 
 looks em over deliberate. " Humph! " he 
 grunts. " Thought you were younger." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says Marjorie, " we er we 
 were at one time."
 
 80 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Old Hickory shoots a quizzin glance at her; 
 but there ain t the ghost of a smile on her face. 
 " Huh! " says he. " I ve no doubt. And I 
 presume that in due course you ll be older. 
 Having agreed on that, perhaps you will tell me 
 what you re doing in New York? " 
 
 Marjorie starts in to give him the answer to 
 that; but Dudley shakes his head at her and 
 takes the floor himself. " You see, Sir," says 
 he real respectful, " Mother s abroad this win 
 ter, and when we were asked to visit friends 
 on Long Island we thought 
 
 " Amy abroad, is she? " breaks in Mr. Ellins. 
 " How does that happen? " 
 
 " The Adamses took her with them to 
 Egypt," says Dudley. " They are old friends 
 of ours." 
 
 " Humph! " says Old Hickory. " Your 
 mother must be rather popular? " 
 
 " Oh, everyone likes Mama," put in Mar 
 jorie. " She s asked around everywhere." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I ve no doubt," says he. " As I 
 remember her, she was rather a but we won t 
 go into that. Did you come to consult me about 
 anything in particular? " 
 
 " No indeed," says Marjorie. " But you ve 
 been so good to bother about our affairs, and 
 you ve done such wonders with the little prop 
 erty poor Dad left, that we thought, as we were 
 so near, we ought to "
 
 BBEEZING BY WITH PEGGY 81 
 
 " We wanted," breaks in Dudley, " to call 
 and thank you personally for your kindness. 
 You have been awfully kind, Sir." 
 
 " Think so, do you? " says Mr. Ellins. 
 " Well, is that all! " 
 
 " Yes," says Marjorie; " only only oh, 
 Dud, I m going to do it !" And with that she 
 makes a rush, lets out a giggle or two, grabs Old 
 Hickory in a perfectly good hug, and kisses him 
 twice on his bald spot. 
 
 He don t even have a chance to struggle, and 
 before he can get out a word it s all over and she 
 has backed off, givin him the full benefit of one 
 of them twisty smiles. I was lookin for him to 
 blow up for fair at that. He don t though. 
 
 " There, there ! " says he. " Not in the least 
 necessary, you know. But if it was something 
 you had to get out of your system, all right. So 
 you ve been visiting, eh? Now, what? " 
 
 " Why, Marjorie s going back to her school, 
 Sir," says Dudley, " and I to college." 
 
 " Before the holidays are over? " says Mr. 
 Ellins. 
 
 11 Oh, we don t mind," says Marjorie. " We 
 don t want to go home and open up the house; 
 for we should miss Mother so much." 
 
 " Suppose you finish out your vacation with 
 MS, then? " suggests Old Hickory. 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Sir," says Dudley; " but 
 we "
 
 82 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Mother wrote us, you see," breaks in Mar 
 jorie, " that we mustn t think of bothering you 
 another bit." 
 
 " Who says you re a bother? " he demands. 
 * At this time of year I like to have young folks 
 around if they re the right kind." 
 
 11 But I m not sure we are the right kind," 
 says Marjorie. " I I m not very serious, you 
 know; and Dud s apt to be noisy. He thinks he 
 can sing." 
 
 At which Dudley gets fussed and Old Hickory 
 chuckles. 
 
 "I ll take a chance," says Mr. Ellins. " If 
 I m to be your guardian, I ought to know you 
 better. So you two trot right up to the house 
 and prepare to stay the week out. Here, 
 Torchy! Phone for the limousine. No, not a 
 word, young woman! I haven t time to discuss 
 it. Clear out, both of you ! See you at dinner. 
 
 " There! " says Marjorie as a partin shot. 
 " I just knew you were an old dear! " 
 
 " Stuff! " protests Mr. Ellins. " * Old bear/ 
 is more like it. 
 
 And me, I picks up a new cue. I escorts em 
 out to the gen ral office with all the honors. 
 " I ll have that car down in a jiffy, Miss," 
 says I. 
 
 " Oh, thank you," says Marjorie. " And if 
 you think of anything we ought to ditch in the 
 meantime "
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY S3- 
 
 " Ah, what s the use rubbin it in on me," 
 says I, " after the way you put it over Mr. 
 Eliins? I don t count. Besides, anybody that 
 fields their position like you do has got me wear- 
 in their button for keeps." 
 
 " Really? " says she. " I shall remember 
 that, you know; and there s no telling what 
 dreadful thing I may do before I go. Is there, 
 Dud? " 
 
 " Oh, quit it, Peggy! " says he. " Behave, 
 can t you? " 
 
 " Certainly, Brother dear," says she, runnin* 
 her tongue out at him. Ever see anyone who 
 could make a cute play of that? Well, Marjorie 
 could, believe me ! 
 
 Funny, though, the sudden hit them two 
 seemed to make with Old Hickory. Honest, the 
 few days they was around the house his disposi 
 tion clears up like coffee does when you stir in 
 the egg. I heard him talkin to Mr. Robert 
 about em, how well brought up and mannerly 
 they was. He even unloads some of it on me, 
 by way of suggestin em as models. You d 
 most think he d trained em himself. 
 
 Bein chased up to the house on so many er 
 rands, I had a chance to get the benefit of some 
 of this improvin influence. And it was kind of 
 good, I admit, to watch how prompt Dudley hops 
 up every time any older party comes into the 
 room; and how sweet Marjorie is to everybody,
 
 84 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 even the butler. They was just as nice to each 
 other too, Brother helpin Sister on with her 
 wraps, and gettin down on his knees to put on 
 her rubbers; while Marjorie never forgets to 
 thank him proper, and pat him chummy on the 
 cheek. 
 
 1 1 Gee ! thinks I. "A sister like that would- 
 n t be so bad to have around." 
 
 Course, I knew this was comp ny manners, 
 exhibition stuff ; but all the same it was kind of 
 inspirin to see. It s catchin too. I even finds 
 myself speakin gentle to Piddie, and offerin to 
 help Mr. Ellins with his overcoat. 
 
 All of which lasts until here one afternoon, as 
 I m waitin in the Ellins lib ry for some pres 
 ents I m to deliver, when the spell is shattered. 
 I d heard em out in the hall, talkin low and 
 earnest, and next thing I know they ve drifted 
 in where I am and have opened up a lively 
 debate. 
 
 " Pooh! " says Marjorie. " You can t stop 
 me." 
 
 " See here, Peggy! " comes back Dudley. 
 " Didn t Mother say I was to look after you? 
 
 " She didn t tell you to be so everlasting 
 bossy," says Sister. 
 
 "I m not bossy," comes back Dudley. 
 
 " You are so ! " says she. " Old fuss budget! 
 Stewcat! " 
 
 * Rattlehead ! says Dudley.
 
 F *<- 
 
 SISTER HAS LANDED A SMACK ON HIS JAW.
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 85 
 
 1 1 Don t mind me, I breaks in. "I m havin 
 my manners improved." 
 
 All that brings out, though, is a glance and 
 a shoulder shrug, and they proceed with the 
 squabble. 
 
 " Dud Chandler," says Marjorie determined, 
 I am going to drive the car today ! You did 
 yesterday for an hour." 
 
 11 That s entirely different," says Dudley. 
 "I m used to it, and Henry said I might." 
 
 " And Henry says I may too so there! " 
 says Marjorie. " And you know I m just crazy 
 to try it on Fifth Avenue. 
 
 " You d look nice, wouldn t you? " says 
 Brother scornful. " A limousine! " 
 
 " But Bud Adams let me drive theirs; in 
 Boston too," protests Marjorie. 
 
 " Bud Adams is a bonehead, then," says 
 Dudley. 
 
 " Dudley Chandler," snaps Sister, her eyes 
 throwin off sparks, " don t you dare talk that 
 way about my friends ! 
 
 " Huh! " says Brother. " If there ever was 
 a boob, that Bud Adams is " 
 
 Say, there s only a flash and a squeal before 
 Sister has landed a smack on his jaw and has 
 both hands in his hair. Looked like a real rough- 
 house session, right there in the lib ry, when 
 there comes a call for me down the stairs from 
 Mrs. Ellins. She wants to know if I m ready.
 
 86 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Waitin here, Ma am," says I, steppin out 
 into the hall. 
 
 " And Marjorie and Dudley? " says she. 
 " Are the dear young folks ready too? 
 
 11 I ll ask em," says I. And with that I 
 dodges back where they re standin glarin at 
 each other. " Well," says I, " is it to be a go 
 to a finish, or " 
 
 " Come, Marjorie," says Dudley, " be de 
 cent." 
 
 11 I am going to do it! " announces Mar 
 jorie. 
 
 Mule ! hisses Dudley. 
 
 And that s the status quo between these two 
 models when we starts for the car. Marjorie 
 makes a quick break and plants herself in front 
 by the chauffeur, leavin Brother to climb in 
 side with me and the bundles. He grits his 
 teeth and murmurs a few remarks under his 
 breath. 
 
 11 Some pep to that sister of yours, eh? 
 says I. 
 
 She s an obstinate little fool ! says Dud 
 ley. Look at that, now ! I knew she would ! 
 
 Yep, she had. We re no sooner under way 
 than the obligin Henry slides out of his seat 
 and lets Miss Marjorie slip in behind the wheel. 
 She can drive a car all right too. You ought 
 to see her throw in the high and go beatin it 
 down the avenue, takin signals from the traffic
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 87 
 
 cops at crossings, skinnin around motor busses, 
 and crowdin out a fresh taxi driver that tried 
 to hog a corner on her. Nothin timid or ama 
 teurish either about the way she handled that 
 ten-thousand-dollar gas wagon of Old Hick 
 ory s. Where I d be jammin on both brakes 
 and callin for help, she just breezes along like 
 she had the street all to herself. 
 
 Meantime Brother is sittin with both feet 
 braced and one hand on the door, now and then 
 sighin relieved as we scrape through a tight 
 place. But we d been down quite a ways and 
 was part way back, headed for Riverside Drive, 
 and was rollin along merry too, when all of a 
 sudden a fruit faker s wagon looms up out of 
 a side street unexpected, there s a bump and a 
 crash, and there we are, with a spokeless wooden 
 wheel draped jaunty over one mud guard, the 
 asphalt strewed with oranges, and int rested 
 spectators gatherin gleeful from all quarters. 
 
 Looks like a bad mess too. The old plug of 
 a horse is down, kickin the stuffin out of the 
 harness, and a few feet off is the huckster, hud 
 dled up in a heap like a bag of meal. Course, 
 there s a cop on the spot. He pushes in where 
 Dudley is tryin to help the wagon driver up, 
 takes one look at the wreck, and then flashes 
 his little notebook. He puts down our license 
 number, calls for the owner s name, prods the 
 wagon man without result, tells us we re all
 
 88 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 pinched, and steps over to a convenient signal 
 box to ring np an ambulance. Inside of three 
 minutes we re the storm center of a small mob, 
 and there s two other cops lookin us over dis- 
 approvin . 
 
 " Take em all to the station house," says 
 one, who happens to be a roundsman. 
 
 That didn t listen good to me; so I kind of 
 sidles off from our group. It just struck me 
 that it might be handy to have someone on the 
 outside lookin in. But at that I got to the 
 station house almost as soon as they did. The 
 trio was lined up before the desk Sergeant. 
 Miss Marjorie s kind of white, but keepin a 
 stiff lip over it ; while Dudley is holdin one hand 
 and pattin it comfortin . 
 
 " Well, who was driving? " is the first thing 
 the Sergeant wants to know. 
 
 " If you please, Sir," speaks up Dudley, " I 
 was." 
 
 11 Why, Dudley! " says Peggy, openin her 
 eyes wide. You know 
 
 " Hush up! " whispers Brother. 
 
 " Sha n t! " says Marjorie. " I was driving, 
 Mr. Officer." 
 
 1 Rot ! says Dudley. Pay no attention to 
 her, Sergeant." 
 
 " Suit yourself," says the Sergeant. " I d 
 just as soon lock up two as one. Then we ll 
 be sure."
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 89 
 
 " There! You see! " says Brother. " You 
 aren t helping any. Now keep out, will you? 
 
 " But, Dudley " protests Marjorie. 
 
 " That ll do," says the Sergeant. " You ll 
 have plenty of time to talk it over afterwards. 
 Hospital case, eh? Then we can t take bail. 
 Names, now! " 
 
 And it s while their names are bein put on 
 the blotter that I slides out, hunts up a pay sta 
 tion, and gets Mr. Robert on the phone. Bet 
 ter lug along a good-sized roll," says I, after 
 I ve explained the case, " and start a lawyer 
 or two this way. You ll need em." 
 
 " I will," says Mr. Robert. " And you ll 
 meet me at the station, will you? 
 
 Later on, says I. "I want to try a little 
 sleuthin first." 
 
 You see, I d spotted the faker s name on the 
 wagon license, and it occurs to me that before 
 any of them damage-suit shysters get to him it 
 would be a good scheme to discover just how 
 bad he was bunged up. So my bluff is that it s 
 an uncle of mine that s been hurt. By pushin* 
 it good and hard too, and insistin that I d got 
 to see him, I gets clear into the cot without bein* 
 held up. And there s the victim, snoozin peace 
 ful. 
 
 " Gee! " says I to the nurse, sniffin the at 
 mosphere. * Had to brace him up with a drink, 
 did you? "
 
 90 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 She smiles at that. " Hardly," says she. 
 * l He had attended to that, or he wouldn t be in 
 here. This is the alcoholic ward, you know." 
 
 " Huh! " says I. " Pickled, was he? But is 
 he hurt bad? " 
 
 " Not at all," says she. " He will be all 
 right as soon as he s sober." 
 
 Did I smoke it back to the station house? 
 Well, some ! And Mr. Robert was there, talkin 
 to two volunteer witnesses who was ready to 
 swear the faker was drivin on the wrong side 
 of the street and not lookin where he was goin . 
 
 11 How could he," says I, " when he was 
 soused to the ears? " 
 
 Course, it took some time to convince the 
 Sergeant; but after he d had word from the 
 hospital he concludes to accept a hundred cash, 
 let Dudley go until mornin , and scratch Mar- 
 jorie s name off the book. Goin back to the 
 house we four rides inside, with Henry at the 
 wheel. 
 
 "I m awfully sorry, Dud," says Marjorie, 
 snugglin up to Brother, " but but it was al 
 most worth it. I didn t know you could be so 
 so splendid! " 
 
 Stow it, Peggy, says Dudley. * * You re a 
 regular brick ! 
 
 " No, I m not," says she. " And think what 
 Mr. Ellins will say ! 
 
 " There, there! " says Mr. Eobert soothin .
 
 BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY 91 
 
 " You were not to blame. I will have someone 
 see the fellow in the morning and settle the dam 
 age, however. There s no need to trouble 
 Father about it, none in the least." 
 
 " Besides, Peggy," adds Dudley, " I m the 
 one the charge is made against. So butt out." 
 
 Looked like it was all settled that way too, and 
 that Old Hickory s faith in his model wards 
 wa n t to be disturbed. But when we pulls up 
 at the house there he is, just goin up the front 
 steps. 
 
 " Ah! " says he, beamin . " There you are, 
 eh? And how has my little Peggy been enjoying 
 herself today? " 
 
 " Mr. Ellins," says she, lookin him square in 
 the eye, " you mustn t call me your Peggy any 
 more. I ve just hit a man. He s in the hos 
 pital." 
 
 " You you hit someone! " gasps Old Hick 
 ory, starin puzzled at her. " What with? " 
 
 " Why, with the car," says she. " I was 
 driving. Dudley tried to stop me; but I was 
 horrid about it. We had a regular fight over 
 it. Then I coaxed Henry to let me, and and 
 this happened. Don t listen to Dudley. It was 
 all my fault." 
 
 * Wow ! " I whispers to Mr. Robert. Now 
 she s spilled the beans! " 
 
 Did she? Say, I wa n t in on the fam ly con 
 ference that follows, but I gets the result from
 
 92 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 Mr. Eobert next day, after he s been to court 
 and seen Dudley s case dismissed. 
 
 "No, the young folks haven t been sent 
 away," says he. " In fact, Father thinks more 
 of them than ever. He s going to take em 
 both abroad with him next summer. 
 
 Wouldn t that smear you, though? Say, I 
 wish someone would turn me loose with a 
 limousine !
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOB THE BOSS 
 
 TBOUBLE? Say, it was conrin seven different 
 ways there for awhile, our stocks on the slump, 
 a quarterly bein passed, Congress actin up, a 
 lot of gloom rumors floatin around about what 
 was goin to happen to the tariff on steel, and 
 the I Won t Workers pullin oif a big strike 
 at one of our busiest plants. But all these things 
 was side issues compared to this scrap that de 
 velops between Old Hickory and Peter K. Groff . 
 
 Maybe you don t know about Peter K. ? Well, 
 he s the Mesaba agent of Corrugated aff airs, the 
 big noise at the dirt end of the dividends. It s 
 Groff handles the ore proposition, you under 
 stand, and it s his company that does the inter 
 locking act between the ore mines and us and 
 the railroads. 
 
 Course, I can t give you all the details with 
 out pullin down a subpoena from the Attorney- 
 General s office, and I ain t anxious to crowd 
 Willie Rockefeller, or anybody like that, out of 
 the witness chair. But I can go as far as to 
 state that, as near as I could dope it out, Peter 
 
 93
 
 94 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 K. was only standin on his rights, and if only 
 him and Mr. Ellins could have got together for 
 half an hour peaceable-like things could have 
 been squared all around. We needed Groff 
 every tick of the clock, and just because he ain t 
 always polite in statin his views over the wire 
 wa n t any first-class reason for us extendin 
 him an official invitation to go sew his head in 
 a bag. 
 
 Uh-huh, them was Old Hickory s very words. 
 I stood by while he writes the message. Then 
 I takes it out and shows it to Piddie and grins. 
 You should have seen Piddie s face. He turns 
 the color of green pea soup and gasps. He s 
 got all the fightin qualities of a pet rabbit in 
 him, Piddie has. 
 
 11 But but that is a flat insult," says he, 
 " and Mr. Groff is a very irascible person! " 
 
 11 A which! " says I. " Never mind, though. 
 If he s got anything on Old Hickory when it 
 comes to pep in the disposition, he s the real 
 Tabasco Tommy." 
 
 "But I still contend," says Piddie, " that 
 this reply should not be sent. 
 
 11 Course it shouldn t," says I. " But who s 
 goin to point that out to the boss? You? 
 
 Piddie shudders. I ll bet he went home that 
 night and told Wifey to prepare for the end of 
 the world. Course, I knew it meant a muss. 
 But when Old Hickory s been limpin around
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOB THE BOSS 95 
 
 with a gouty toe for two weeks, and his diges 
 tion s gone on the fritz, and things in gen ral 
 has been breakin bad well, it s a case of low 
 barometer in our shop, and waitin to see where 
 the lightnin strikes first. Might s well be 
 pointed at Peter K., thinks I, as at some 
 Wall Street magnate or me. Course, Groff 
 goes up in the air a mile, threatens to resign 
 from the board, and starts stirrin up a minority 
 move that s liable to end most anywhere. 
 
 Then, right in the midst of it, Old Hickory 
 accumulates his annual case of grip, runs up a 
 temperature that ain t got anything to do with 
 his disposition, and his doctor gives orders for 
 him not to move out of the house for a week. 
 
 So that throws the whole thing onto me and 
 Mr. Eobert. I was takin it calm enough too; 
 but with Mr. Eobert it s diff rent. He has his 
 coat off that mornin , and his hair mussed up, 
 and he s smokin long brunette cigars instead 
 of his usual cigarettes. He was pawin over 
 things panicky. 
 
 "Hang it all!" he explodes. " Some of 
 these papers must go up to the Governor for 
 his indorsement. Perhaps you d better take 
 them, Torchy. But you re not likely to find him 
 in a very agreeable mood, you know." 
 
 " Oh, I can dodge," says I, gatherin up the 
 stuff. "And what s the dope? Do I dump 
 these on the bed and make a slide for life, or
 
 96 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 do I take out accident insurance and then stick 
 around for orders t 
 
 11 You may er stick around," says Mr. 
 Eobert. " In fact, my chief reason for sending 
 you up to the house is the fact that at times 
 you are apt to have a cheering effect on the 
 Governor. So stay as long as you find any 
 excuse. 
 
 " Gee! " says I. " I don t know whether 
 this is a special holiday, or a sentence to sudden 
 death. But I ll take a chance, and if the worst 
 happens, Mr. Robert, see that Piddie wears a 
 black armband for me." 
 
 He indulges in the first grin he s had on for 
 a week, and I makes my exit on that. The sci 
 ence of bein fresh is to know where to quit. 
 
 But, say, that wa n t all guff we was ex- 
 changin about Old Hickory. I don t find him 
 tucked away under the down comf tables, like 
 he ought to be. Marston, the butler, whispers 
 the boss is in the lib ry, and sort of shunts me 
 in without appearin himself. A wise guy, 
 Marston. 
 
 For here s Mr. Ellins, wearin a padded silk 
 dressin gown and old slippers, pacin back and 
 forth limpy and lettin out grunts and growls 
 at every turn. Talk about your double-distilled 
 grouches! He looks like he d been on a diet 
 of mixed pickles and scrap iron for a month, and 
 hated the whole human race.
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOB THE BOSS 97 
 
 " Well? " he snaps as he sees me edgin* in 
 cautious. 
 
 " Papers for your 0. K.," says I, holdin the 
 bunch out at arm s length. 
 
 1 1 My 0. K. 1 " he snarls. Bah ! Now what 
 the zebra-striped Zacharias do they send those 
 things to me for? What good am I, anyway, 
 except as a common carrier for all the blinkety 
 blinked aches and pains that ever existed? A 
 shivery, shaky old lump of clay streaked with 
 cussedness, that s all I am! " 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says I, from force of habit. 
 
 " Eh? " says he, whirlin and snappin his 
 jaws. 
 
 " N-n-no, Sir," says I, sidesteppin behind a 
 chair. 
 
 " That s right," says he. " Dodge and 
 squirm as if I was a wild animal. That s what 
 they all do. What are you afraid of, Boy? " 
 
 " Me? " says I. " Why, I m havin the time 
 of my life. I don t mind. It only sounds natu 
 ral and homelike. And it s mostly bluff, ain t 
 it, Mr. Ellins? " 
 
 " Discovered! " says he. " Ah, the merci 
 less perspicacity of youth! But don t tell 
 the others. And put those papers on my 
 desk." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says I, and after I ve spread 
 em out I backs into the bay window and sits 
 down.
 
 98 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Well, what are you doing there! " says he. 
 
 " Waiting orders," says I. " Any errands, 
 Mr. Ellins? " 
 
 " Errands? " says he. Then, after thinkin 
 a second, he raps out, " Yes. Do you see that 
 collection of bottles and pills and glasses on the 
 table? Enough to stock a young drugstore! 
 And I ve been pouring that truck into my sys 
 tem by wholesale, the pink tablets on the half- 
 hour, the white ones on the quarter, a spoonful 
 of that purple liquid on the even hour, two of 
 the greenish mixtures on the odd, and getting 
 worse every day. Bah! I haven t the courage 
 to do it myself, but by the blue-belted blazes 
 
 if See here, Boy! You re waiting orders, 
 
 you say? " 
 
 "Uh-huh! " says I. 
 
 " Then open that window and throw the whole 
 lot into the areaway," says he. 
 
 " Do you mean it, Mr. Ellins? " says I. 
 
 11 Do I yah, don t I speak plain English? " 
 he growls. " Can t you understand a sim 
 ple " 
 
 " I got you," I breaks in. " Out it goes! 
 I don t drop any of it gentle, either. I slams 
 bottles and glasses down on the flaggin and 
 chucks the pills into the next yard. I makes 
 a clean sweep. 
 
 11 Thanks, Torchy," says he. " The doctor 
 will be here soon. I 11 tell him you did it.
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOE THE BOSS 99 
 
 11 Go as far as you like," says I. " Anything 
 else, Sir? " 
 
 " Yes," says he. " Provide me with a tem 
 porary occupation." 
 
 " Come again," says I. 
 
 " I want something to do," says he. " Here 
 I ve been shut up in this confounded house for 
 four mortal days ! I can t read, can t eat, can t 
 sleep. I just prowl around like a bear with a 
 sore ear. I want something that will make me 
 forget what a wretched, futile old fool I am. 
 Do you know of anything that will fill the bill? " 
 
 " No, sir," says I. 
 
 11 Then think," says he. " Come, where is 
 that quick-firing, automatic intellect of yours? 
 Think, Boy! What would you do if you were 
 shut up like this? " 
 
 " Why," says I, " I I might dig up some 
 kind of games, I guess." 
 
 " Games! " says he. " That s worth con 
 sidering. Well, here s some money. Go get 
 em." 
 
 " But what kind, Sir? " says I. 
 
 How the slithering Sisyphus should I know 
 what kind? " he snaps. " Whose idea is this, 
 anyway? You suggested games. Go get em, I 
 tell you! I ll give you half an hour, while I m 
 looking over this stuff from the office. Just half 
 an hour. Get out ! 
 
 It s a perfectly cute proposition, ain t it?
 
 100 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Games for a heavy-podded old sinner like him, 
 who s about as frivolous in his habits as one of 
 them stone lions in front of the new city lib ry! 
 But here I was on my way with a yellow-backed 
 twenty in one hand; so it s up to me to produce. 
 I pikes straight down the avenue to a joint 
 where they ve got three floors filled with nothin 
 but juvenile joy junk, blows in there on the 
 jump, nails a clerk that looks like he had more 
 or less bean, waves the twenty at him, and re 
 marks casual: 
 
 " Gimme the worth of that in things that ll 
 amuse a fifty-eight-year-old kid who s sick abed 
 and walkin around the house." 
 
 Did I say clerk f I take it back. He was a 
 salesman, that young gent was. Never raised 
 an eyebrow, but proceeded to haul out samples, 
 pass em up to me for inspection, and pile in a 
 heap what I gives him the nod on. If I estab 
 lished a record for reckless buyin , he never 
 mentions it. Inside of twenty minutes I m on 
 my way back, followed by a porter with both 
 arms full. 
 
 " The doctor has come," says Marston. 
 "He s in with Mr. Ellins now, Sir." 
 
 " Oh, is he? " says I. " Makes it very nice, 
 don t it? " And, bein as how I was Old Hick 
 ory s alibi, as you might say, I pikes right to 
 the front. 
 
 " Here he is now," says Mr. Ellins.
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOE THE BOSS 101 
 
 And the Doc, who s a chesty, short-legged 
 gent with a dome half under glass, you know, 
 sort of a skinned diamond with turf outfield 
 effect, he whirls on me accusin . " Young 
 man," says he, " do I understand that you had 
 the impudence to " 
 
 " Well, well! " breaks in Old Hickory, get- 
 tin a glimpse of what the porter s unloadin . 
 " What have we here? Look, Hirshway, 
 Torchy s drug substitute! 
 
 " Eh? " says the Doc, starin puzzled. 
 
 " Games," says Mr. Ellins, startin to paw 
 over the bundles. " Toys for a weary toiler. 
 Let s inspect his selection. Now what s this in 
 the box, Torchy? " 
 
 " Cut -up picture puzzle," says I. " Two 
 hundred pieces. You fit em together." 
 
 " Fine! " says Old Hickory. " And this? " 
 
 11 Eing toss," says I. " You try to throw 
 them rope rings over the peg." 
 
 " I see," says he. ll Excellent! That will 
 be very amusing and instructive. Here s an 
 airgun too." 
 
 " Ellins," says Doc Hirshway, " do you mean 
 to say that at your age you are going to play 
 with such childish things? 
 
 " Why not? " says Old Hickory. " You for 
 bid business. I must employ myself in some 
 way, and Torchy recommends these." 
 
 Bah ! says the Doc disgusted. " If I did- 
 
 < (
 
 102 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 n t know you so well, I should think your mind 
 was affected." 
 
 " Think what you blamed please, you bald- 
 headed old pill peddler! " raps back the boss, 
 pokin him playful in the ribs. " I ll bet you a 
 fiver I can put more of these rings over than 
 you can." 
 
 " Humph! " says the Doc. " I ve no time 
 to waste on silly games." And he stands by 
 watchin disapprovin while Old Hickory makes 
 an awkward stab at the peg. The nearest he 
 comes to it is when he chucks one through the 
 glass door of a curio cabinet, with a smash that 
 brings the butler tiptoein in. 
 
 " Did you ring, Sir! " says Marston. 
 
 11 Not a blamed one! says Mr. Ellins. 
 " Take it away, Marston. And then unwrap 
 that large package. There ! Now what the tes 
 sellated teacups is that! >: 
 
 It s something I didn t know anything about 
 myself ; but the young gent at the store had been 
 strong for puttin it in, so I d let it slide. It s 
 a tin affair, painted bright green, with half a 
 dozen little brass cups sunk in it. Some rubber 
 balls and a kind of croquet mallet goes with it. 
 
 " Indoor golf! " says Old Hickory, readin 
 the instruction pamphlet. " Oh, I see ! A put 
 ting green. Set it there on the rug, Marston. 
 Now, let s see if I ve forgotten how to putt." 
 
 We all gathers around while he tries to roll
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOR THE BOSS 103 
 
 the balls into the cups. Out of six tries he lands 
 just one. Next time he don t get any at all. 
 
 11 Pooh! " says the Doc edgin up int rested. 
 l Wretched putting form, Ellins, wretched ! 
 Don t tap it that way: sweep it along follow 
 through, with your right elbow out. Here, let 
 me show you! 
 
 But Hirshway don t do much better. He 
 manages to get two in; but one was a rank 
 scratch. 
 
 " Ho-ho! " cackles Old Hickory. " Isn t so 
 easy as it looks, eh, Hirshway? Now it s my 
 turn again, and I m betting ten I beat you." 
 
 " I take you," says the Doc. 
 
 And blamed if Old Hickory don t pull down 
 the money! 
 
 Well, that s what started things. Next I 
 knew they d laid out a reg lar golf course, driv- 
 in off from the rug in front of the desk, through 
 the double doors into the drawin room, then 
 across the hall into the music room, around the 
 grand piano to the left, through the back hall, 
 into the lib ry once more, and onto the tin 
 green. 
 
 Marston is sent to dig out a couple sets of 
 old golf clubs from the attic, and he is put to 
 caddyin for the Doc, while I carries the bag for 
 the boss. Course they was usin putters mostly, 
 except for fancy loftin strokes over bunkers 
 that they d built out of books and sofa pillows.
 
 104 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 And as the balls was softer than the regulation 
 golf kind, with more bounce to em, all sorts of 
 carom strokes was ruled in. 
 
 " No moving the chairs," announces Old 
 Hickory. " All pieces of furniture are natural 
 hazards," 
 
 " Agreed," says the Doc. " Playing stimies 
 too, I suppose? " 
 
 11 Stimies go," says the boss. 
 
 Say, maybe that wa n t some batty perform 
 ance, with them two old duffers golfin all over 
 the first floor of a Fifth-ave. house, disputin 
 about strokes, pokin balls out from under tables 
 and sofas, and me and Marston followin along 
 with the bags. They got as excited over it as if 
 they d been playin for the International Cham 
 pionship, and when Old Hickory loses four 
 strokes by gettin his ball wedged in a corner 
 he cuts loose with the real golfy language. 
 
 We was just finishin the first round, with the 
 score standin fourteen to seventeen in favor 
 of the Doc, when the front doorbell rings and 
 a maid comes towin in Piddie. Maybe his eyes 
 don t stick out some too, as he takes in the scene, 
 But Mr. Ellins is preparin to make a shot for 
 position in front of the green and he don t pay 
 any attention. 
 
 11 It s Mr. Piddie, Sir," says I. 
 
 " Hang Mr. Piddie ! " says Old Hickory. " I 
 can t see him now."
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOE THE BOSS 105 
 
 " But it s very important," says Piddie. 
 " There s someone at the office who " 
 
 " No, no, not now! " snaps the boss impa 
 tient. 
 
 And I gives Piddie the back-out signal. But 
 you know how much sense he s got. 
 
 " I assure you, Mr. Ellins," he goes on, " that 
 this is " 
 
 " S-s-s-st! " says I. " Boom-boom! Out 
 side ! and I jerks my thumb towards the door. 
 
 That settles Piddie. He fades. 
 
 A minute later Old Hickory gets a lucky 
 carom off a chair leg and holes out in nineteen, 
 with the Doc playin twenty-one. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " chuckled the boss. " What s the 
 matter with my form now, Hirshway? I ll go 
 you another hole for the same stake." 
 
 The Doc was sore and eager to get back. 
 They wa n t much more n fairly started, 
 though, before there s other arrivals, that turns 
 out to be no less than two of our directors, look- 
 in serious and worried. 
 
 " Mr. Rawson and Mr. Dunham," announces 
 the maid. 
 
 " Here, Boy! " says the boss, catchin me by 
 the elbow. " What was that you said to Mr. 
 Piddie, that Boom-boom! greeting? " 
 
 I gives it to him and the Doc in a stage 
 whisper. 
 
 " Good! " says he. " Get that, Hirshway?
 
 106 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Now let s spring it on em. All together now 
 S-s-s-st! Boom-boom! Outside! J: 
 
 Say, it makes a hit with the directors, all 
 right. First off they didn t seem to know 
 whether they d strayed into a bughouse, or were 
 just bein cheered; but when they sees Old Hick 
 ory s mouth corners they concludes to take it 
 as a josh. It turns out that both of em are golf 
 cranks too, and inside of three minutes they ve 
 forgot whatever it was they d come for, they ve 
 shed their coats, and have been rung into a four 
 some. 
 
 Honest, of all the nutty performances ! For 
 there was no tellin where them balls would roll 
 to, and wherever they went the giddy old boys 
 had to follow. I remember one of em was 
 stretched out full length on his tummy in the 
 front hall, tryin to make a billiard shot from 
 under a low hall seat, when there s another ring 
 at the bell, and Marston, with a golf - bag still 
 slung over his shoulder, lets in a square-jawed, 
 heavy-set old gent who glares around like he 
 was lookin for trouble and would be disap 
 pointed if he didn t find it. 
 
 " Mr. Peter K. Groff," announces Marston. 
 
 " Good night! " says I to myself. " The 
 enemy is in our midst." 
 
 But Old Hickory never turns a hair. He 
 stands there in his shirt sleeves gazin calm at 
 this grizzly old minin plute, and then I sees a
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOE THE BOSS 107 
 
 kind of cut-up twinkle flash in them deep-set 
 eyes of his as he summons his foursome to 
 gather around. I didn t know what was comin , 
 either, until they cuts loose with it. And for 
 havin had no practice they rips it out strong. 
 
 " S-s-s-st! Boom-boom! Outside! " comes 
 the chorus. 
 
 It gets Peter K. s goat too. His jaw comes 
 open and his eyes pop. Next he swallows hard 
 and flushes red behind the ears. * Ellins, says 
 he, " I ve come fifteen hundred miles to ask 
 what you mean by telling me " 
 
 " Oh, that you, Groff? " breaks in the boss. 
 11 Well, don t interrupt our game. Fore! You, 
 I mean. Fore, there ! Now go ahead, Rawson. 
 Playing eleven, aren t you? 
 
 And Eawson s just poked his ball out, makin 
 a neat carom into the music room, when the hall 
 clock strikes five. 
 
 " By Jove, gentlemen! " exclaims Doc Hirsh- 
 way. " Sorry, but I must quit. Should have 
 been in my office an hour ago. I really must 
 go." 
 
 1 Quitter ! says Mr. Ellins. * But all right. 
 Trot along. Here, Groff, you re a golfer, aren t 
 you? " 
 
 " Why er yes," says Peter K., actin sort 
 of dazed; but I " 
 
 " That s enough," says Old Hickory. " You 
 take Hirshway s place. Dunham s your part-
 
 108 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 ner. "We re playing Nassau, ten a corner. But 
 I ll tell you, just to make it interesting, I ll 
 play you on the side to see whether or not we 
 accept that proposition of yours. Is it a go? 
 
 " But see here, Ellins," comes back Peter K, 
 " I want you to understand that you or any 
 other man can t tell me to sew my head in a bag 
 without " 
 
 " Oh, drop that! " says Old Hickory. " I 
 withdraw it mostly gout, anyway. You ought 
 to know that. And if you can beat me at this 
 game I ll agree to let you have your own way 
 out there. Are you on, or are you too much of a. 
 dub to try it? " 
 
 " Maybe I am a dub, Hickory Ellins," says 
 Peter K., peelin off his coat, " but any game 
 that you can play er Which is my ball ? 
 
 Well, it was some warm contest, believe me, 
 with them two joshin back and forth, and at the 
 same time usin as much foxy strategy as if they 
 was stealin railroads away from each other! 
 They must have been at it for near half an hour 
 when a maid slips in and whispers how Mr. 
 Robert is callin for me on the wire. So I puts 
 her on to sub for me with the bag while I slides 
 into the phone booth. 
 
 " Sure, Mr. Robert," says I, " I m still on the 
 job." 
 
 " But what is happening? " says he. " Did 
 n t Groff come up? "
 
 GLOOM SHUNTING FOR THE BOSS 109 
 
 * Yep, says I. " He s here yet. 
 
 . . 
 
 You don t say! says Mr. Robert. 
 " Whe-e-ew! He and the governor having it 
 hot and heavy, I suppose? " 
 
 " And then some," says I. " Peter K. took 
 first round 12-17, he tied the second, and now 
 he s trapped in the fireplace on a bad ten." 
 
 " Wha-a-at? " gasps Mr. Robert. 
 
 "Uh-huh," says I. " Mr. Ellins is layin 
 under the piano, only seven, but stimied for 
 an approach." 
 
 " In Heaven s name, Torchy," says Mr. 
 Robert, " what do you mean? Mr. Groff 
 trapped in the fireplace, father lying under the 
 piano why 
 
 "Ah, didn t Piddie tell you? The boob! " 
 says I. " It s just golf, that s all indoor kind 
 a batty variation that they made up them 
 selves. But don t fret. Everything s all lovely, 
 and I guess the Corrugated is saved. Come up 
 and look em over." 
 
 Yep! Peter K. got the decision by slippin 
 over a smear in the fourth, after which him and 
 Old Hickory leans up against each other and 
 laughs until their eyes leak. Then Marston 
 wheels in the tea wagon full of decanters and 
 club soda, and when I left they was clinkin 
 glasses real chummy. 
 
 " Son," says Old Hickory, as he pads into 
 the office about noon next day, " I believe
 
 110 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 I forgot the usual caddie fee. There you 
 are." 
 
 " Z-z-z-zing! " says I, starin after him. 
 
 Cute little strips of Treasury kale, them with 
 the C s in the corners, aren t they? Well, I 
 should worry !
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 COMING IN ON THE DRAW 
 
 NOTHIN like bein a handy man around the 
 shop. Here at the Corrugated I m worked in 
 for almost any old thing, from seein that Mr. 
 Ellins takes his gout tablets reg lar, to arrang 
 ing the directors room for the annual meetin ; 
 and when it comes to subbin for Mr. Robert 
 say, what do you guess is the latest act he 
 bills me for! Art expert! Yep, A-r-t, with a 
 big A! 
 
 Sounds foolish, don t it? But at that it 
 wa n t such a bad hunch on his part. He s a 
 rash promiser, Mr. Robert is; but a shifty 
 proposition when you try to push a programme 
 on him, for the first thing you know he s slid 
 from under. I suspicioned some play like that 
 was comin here the other afternoon when Sister 
 Marjorie shows up at the general offices and 
 asks pouty, " Where s Robert? " 
 
 11 On the job," says I. " Session of the gen 
 eral sales agents today, you know. 
 
 " But he was to meet me at the Broadway 
 entrance half an hour ago," says she, " and 
 
 in
 
 112 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 I ve been sitting in the car waiting for him. 
 Call him out, won t you, Torchy? 
 
 11 Won t do any good," says I. " He s 
 booked up for the rest of the day." 
 
 " The idea ! " says Marjorie. " And he prom 
 ised faithfully he would go up with me to see 
 those pictures! You just tell him I m here, 
 that s all." 
 
 There s more or less light of battle in them 
 bright brown eyes of Marjorie s, and that El- 
 lins chin of hers is set some solid. So when 
 I tiptoes in where they re dividin the map of 
 the world into sellin areas, and whispers in 
 Mr. Robert s ear that Sister Marjorie is waitin 
 outside, I adds a word of warnin . 
 
 " It s a case of pictures, you remember," 
 says I. 
 
 " Oh, the deuce! " says Mr. Robert. " Hang 
 Brooks Bladen and his paintings! I can t go, 
 positively. Just explain, will you, Torchy? 
 
 " Sure; but I d go hoarse over it," says I. 
 * You know Marjorie, and if you don t want the 
 meetin broke up I expect you d better come 
 out and face the music. 
 
 " Oh, well, then I suppose I must," says he, 
 leadin the way. 
 
 And Marjorie wa n t in the mood to stand for 
 any smooth excuses. She didn t care if he had 
 forgotten, and she guessed his old business af 
 fairs could be put off an hour or so. Besides,
 
 COMING IN ON THE DEAW 113 
 
 this meant so much to poor Brooks. His very 
 first exhibit, too. Ferdy couldn t go, either. 
 Another one of his sick headaches. But he had 
 promised to buy a picture, and Marjorie had 
 hoped that Eobert would like one of them well 
 enough to 
 
 " Oh, if that s all," puts in Mr. Eobert, 
 " then tell him I ll take one, too." 
 
 11 But you can t buy pictures without seeing 
 them," protests Marjorie. " Brooks is too sen 
 sitive. He wants appreciation, encouragement, 
 you see." 
 
 " A lot I could give him," says Mr. Eobert. 
 " Why, I know no more about that sort of thing 
 
 than well, than " And just here his eye 
 
 lights on me. " Oh, I say, though," he goes on, 
 " it would be all right, wouldn t it, if I sent a 
 er a commissioner? " 
 
 11 I suppose that would do," says Mar 
 jorie. 
 
 " Good! " says Mr. Eobert. " Torchy, go 
 with Marjorie and look at that lot. If they re 
 any good, buy one for me." 
 
 Wha-a-at I says I. Me buy a picture ? 
 
 " Full power," says he, startin back to 
 wards the meetin . " Pick out the best, and tell 
 Bladen to send me the bill." 
 
 And there we re left, Marjorie and me, lookin 
 foolish at each other. 
 
 " Well, he s done a duck," says I.
 
 114 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " If you mean he s got himself out of buy 
 ing a picture, you re mistaken," says she. 
 11 Come along." 
 
 She insists on callin the bluff, too. Course, 
 I tries to show her, all the way up in the li 
 mousine, how punk a performer I d be at a game 
 like that, and how they d spot me for a bush 
 leaguer the first stab I made. 
 
 " Not at all," says Marjorie, " if you do as 
 I tell you." 
 
 With that she proceeds to coach me in the art 
 critic business. The lines wa n t hard to get, 
 anyway. 
 
 " For some of them," she goes on, " you 
 merely go Um-m-m ! under your breath, you 
 know, or Ah-h-h-h! to yourself. Then when 
 I give you a nudge you may exclaim, Fine feel 
 ing ! or l Very daring ! or Wonderful technic, 
 wonderful! 
 
 " Yes; but when must I say which? 
 says I. 
 
 " It doesn t matter in the least," says Mar 
 jorie. 
 
 11 And you think just them few remarks," 
 says I, " will pull me through." 
 
 11 Enough for an entire exhibit at the Na 
 tional Academy," says she. " And when you 
 decide which you like best, just point it out 
 to Mr. Bladen." 
 
 Gee ! says I. Suppose I pick a lemon ?
 
 COMING IN ON THE DEAW 115 
 
 11 Robert won t know the difference," says 
 she, and it will serve him right. Besides, poor 
 Brooks needs the encouragement." 
 
 Kind of a dub beginner with no backin , is 
 he? " says I. 
 
 Marjorie describes him diff rent. Accordin 
 to her, lie s a classy comer in the art line, with 
 all kinds of talent up his sleeve and Fame busy 
 just around the corner on a laurel wreath ex 
 actly his size. Seems Brooks was from a good 
 fam ly that had dropped their bundle some 
 where along the road; so this art racket that 
 he d taken up as a time killer he d had to turn 
 into a steady job. He wa n t paintin just to 
 keep his brushes soft. He was out to win the 
 kale. 
 
 Between the lines I gathers enough to guess 
 that before she hooked up with Ferdy, the head 
 achy one, Marjorie had been some mushy over 
 Brooks boy herself. He d done a full length 
 of her, it appears, and was workin up quite a 
 portrait trade, when all of a sudden he ups and 
 marries someone else, a rank outsider. 
 
 " Too bad! " sighs Marjorie. " It has sadly 
 interfered with his career, I m afraid." 
 
 " Ain t drivin him to sign work, is it? 
 says I. 
 
 "Goodness, no! says Marjorie. "Just 
 the opposite. Of course, Edith was a poor girl ; 
 but her Uncle Jeff is ever so rich. They live
 
 116 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 with him, you know. That s the trouble Uncle 
 Jeff." 
 
 She s a little vague about this Uncle Jeff busi 
 ness; but it helps explain why we roll up to a 
 perfectly good marble front detached house just 
 off Riverside Drive, instead of stoppin at one 
 of them studio rookeries over on Columbus-ave. 
 And even I m wise to the fact that strugglin 
 young artists don t have a butler on the door 
 unless there s something like an Uncle Jeff in 
 the fam ly. 
 
 From the dozen or more cars and taxis hung 
 up along the block I judge this must be a reg lar 
 card affair, with tea and sandwich trimmin s. 
 It s a good guess. A maid tows us up two 
 flights, though, before we re asked to shed any 
 thing; and before we lands Marjorie is gaspin 
 some, for she ain t lost any weight since she 
 collected Ferdy. Quite a studio effect they d 
 made too, by throwin a couple of servants 
 rooms into one and addin a big skylight. There 
 was the regulation fishnet draped around, and 
 some pieces of tin armor and plaster casts, 
 which proves as well as a court affidavit that 
 here s where the real, sure-fire skookum cre 
 ative genius holds forth. 
 
 It s a giddy bunch of lady gushers that s got 
 together there too, and the soulful chatter is 
 bein put over so fast it sounds like intermission 
 at a cabaret show. I m introduced proper to
 
 COMING IN ON THE DRAW 117 
 
 Brooks boy and Wifey; but I d picked em both 
 out at first glimpse. Nomistakin him. He s got 
 on the kind of costume that goes with the fishnet 
 and brass tea machine, flowin tie, velvet coat, 
 baggy trousers, and all, even to the Vandyke 
 beard. It s kind of a pale, mud-colored set of 
 face alfalfa; but, then, Brooks boy is sort of 
 that kind himself that is, all but his eyes. 
 They re a wide-set, dreamy, baby-blue pair of 
 lamps, that beams mild and good-natured on 
 everyone. 
 
 But Mrs. Brooks Bladen is got up even more 
 arty than Hubby. Maybe it wa n t sugar sack- 
 in or furniture burlap, but that s what the stuff 
 looked like. It s gathered jaunty just under her 
 armpits and hangs in long folds to the floor, 
 with a thick rope of yellow silk knotted careless 
 at one side with the tassels danglin below her 
 knee, while around her head is a band of tinsel 
 decoration that might have been pinched off 
 from a Christmas tree. She s a tall, willowy 
 young woman, who waves her bare arms around 
 vivacious when she talks and has lots of sparkle 
 to her eyes. 
 
 " You dear child! " is her greetin to Mar- 
 jorie. " So sweet of you to attempt all those 
 dreadful stairs! No, don t try to talk yet. We 
 understand, don t we, Brooks? Nice you re not 
 sensitive about it, too." 
 
 I caught the glare Marjorie shoots over, and
 
 118 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 for a minute I figured how the picture buyin 
 deal had been queered at the start ; but the next 
 thing I knew Brooks boy is holdin Marjorie s 
 hand and beamin gentle on her, and she is show- 
 in all her dimples once more. Say, they re 
 worth watchin , some of these fluff encoun 
 ters. 
 
 My act? Ah, say, most of that good dope 
 is all wasted. Nobody seems excited over the 
 fact that I ve arrived, even Brooks Bladen. As 
 a salesman he ain t a great success, I judge. 
 Don t tout up his stuff any, or try to shove off 
 any seconds or shopworn pieces. He just tells 
 me to look around, and half apologizes for 
 his line in advance. 
 
 Well, for real hand-painted stuff it was kind 
 of tame. None of this snowy-mountain-peak or 
 mirror-lake business, such as you see in the de 
 partment stores. It s just North Eiver scenes; 
 some clear, some smoky, some lookin up, some 
 lookin down, and some just across. In one he d 
 done a Fort Lee ferryboat pretty fair; but 
 there s another that strikes me harder. It 
 shows a curve in the drive, with one of them 
 green motor busses goin by, the top loaded, and 
 off in the background to one side the Palisades 
 loomin up against a fair-weather sunset, while 
 in the middle you can see clear up to Yonkers. 
 Honest, it s almost as good as some of them 
 things on the insurance calendars, and I m
 
 standin gawpin at it when Brooks Bladen and 
 Marjorie drifts along. 
 
 " Well? " says he, sort of inquirin . 
 
 11 That must be one of the Albany night boats 
 goin up," says I. She ll be turnin her lights 
 on pretty quick. And it s goin to be a corkin 
 evenin for a river trip. You can tell that 
 by- 
 
 But just here Marjorie gives me a jab with 
 her elbow. 
 
 " Ow, yes! " says I, rememberin my lines. 
 " Um-m-m-m-m! Fine feelin . Very darin 
 too, very ! And when it comes to the tech stuff 
 why, it s there in clusters. Much obliged 
 er that is, I guess you can send this one. Mr. 
 Robert Ellins. That s right. Charge and 
 send." 
 
 Maybe he wa n t used to makin such quick 
 sales ; for he stares at me sort of puzzled, and 
 when I turns to Marjorie she s all pinked up like 
 a strawberry sundae and is smotherin a giggle 
 with her mesh purse. I don t know why, either. 
 Strikes me I d put it over kind of smooth; but 
 as there seems to be a slip somewhere it s 
 me for the rapid back-away. 
 
 " Thanks, that ll be all to-day," I goes on, 
 " and and I ll be waitin downstairs, Mar 
 jorie." 
 
 She don t stop me; so I pushes through the 
 mob at the tea table, collects my coat and lid,
 
 120 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 and slips down to the first floor, where I wan 
 ders into the drawin room. No arty decora 
 tions here. Instead of pictures and plaster 
 casts, the walls are hung with all kinds of 
 mounted heads and horns, and the floor is cov 
 ered with odd-lookin skin rugs, tigers, lions, 
 and such. 
 
 I d been waitin there sometime, inspectin 
 the still life menagerie, when all of a sudden in 
 from the hall rolls one of these invalid wheeled 
 chairs with a funny little old bald-headed gent 
 manipulatin levers. What hair he has left is 
 real white, and most of his face is covered with 
 a thin growth of close-cropped white whiskers; 
 but under the frosty shrubb ry, as well as over 
 all the bare space, he s colored up as bright as a 
 bottle of maraschino cherries. It s the sort of 
 sunburn a sandy complexion gets on; but not 
 in a month or a year. You know? One of 
 these blond Eskimo tints, that seems to go clear 
 through the skin. How he could get it in a 
 wheel chair, though, I couldn t figure out. Any 
 way, there wa n t time. Quick as he sees me he 
 throws in his reverse gear and comes to a stop 
 between the portieres. 
 
 " Well, young man," he raps out sharp and 
 snappy, " who the particular blazes are you? 
 
 But, say, I ve met too many peevish old par 
 ties to let a little jab like that tie up my tongue. 
 
 " Me? " says I, settlin back easy in the arm-
 
 chair. * * Oh, I m a buyer, representin a private 
 collector." 
 
 " Buyer of what? " says he. 
 
 " Art," says I. " Just picked up a small 
 lot, that one with the Albany night boat in it, 
 you know." 
 
 He stares like he thought I was batty, and 
 then rolls his chair over closer. " Do I under 
 stand, says he, that you have been buying a 
 picture here? " 
 
 " Sure," says I. " Say, ain t you on yet, and 
 you right in the house ? Well, you ought to get 
 next." 
 
 " I mean to," says he. " Bladen s stuff, I 
 suppose? 
 
 " Uh-huh," says I. " And, believe me, 
 Brooksy is some paint slinger ; that is, fine feel- 
 in , darin technic, all that sort of dope." 
 
 " I see," says he, noddin his head. " Hold 
 ing a sale, is he? On one of the upper floors? 
 
 " Top," says I. " Quite a classy little studio 
 joint he s made up there." 
 
 " Oh, helms, has he? " says the old boy, snap- 
 pin his eyes. " Well, of all the confounded er 
 young man, ring that bell! >: 
 
 Say, how was I goin to know? I was begin- 
 nin to suspect that this chatty streak of mine 
 wa n t goin to turn out lucky for someone; but 
 it s gone too far to hedge. I pushes the button, 
 and in comes the butler.
 
 122 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Tupper," says the old man, glarin at him 
 shrewd, " you know where the top-floor studio 
 is, don t you? " 
 
 " Ye-e-es, Sir," says Tupper, almost chokin 
 over it. 
 
 " You ll find Mr. and Mrs. Bladen there," 
 goes on old Grouchy. " Ask them to step down 
 here for a moment at once." 
 
 Listened sort of mussy from where I sat, and 
 I wa n t findin the armchair quite so comf t- 
 able. " Guess I ll be loafin along," says I, 
 casual. 
 
 " You ll stay just where you are for the pres 
 ent ! " says he, wheelin himself across the door 
 way. 
 
 " Oh, well, if you insist," says I. 
 
 He did. And for two minutes there I Kst3ns 
 to the clock tick and watches the old sport s 
 white whiskers grow bristly. Then comes the 
 Bladens. He waves em to a parade rest oppo 
 site me. 
 
 11 What is it, Uncle Jeff? " says Mrs. Bladen, 
 sort of anxious. And with that I begins to piece 
 out the puzzle. This was Uncle Jeff, eh, the one 
 with the bank account ? 
 
 " So," he explodes, like openin a bottle of 
 root beer, " you ve gone back to your paint 
 daubing, have you? And you re actually trying 
 to sell your namby-pamby stuff on my top floor?
 
 Come now, Edith, let s hear you squirm out of 
 that! " 
 
 Considerable fussed, Edith is. No wonder! 
 After one glance at me she flushes up and begins 
 twistin the yellow silk cord nervous; but noth- 
 in in the way of a not guilty plea seems to occur 
 to her. As for Hubby, he blinks them mild eyes 
 of his a couple of times, and then stands there 
 placid with both hands in the pockets of his 
 velvet coat, showin no deep emotion at all. 
 
 " It s so, isn t it? " demands Uncle. 
 
 " Ye-e-es, Uncle Jeff," admits Edith. " But 
 poor Brooks could do nothing else, you know. 
 If he d taken a studio outside, you would have 
 wanted to know where he was. And those rooms 
 were not in use. Keally, what else could he 
 do? " 
 
 Mean to tell me he couldn t get along with 
 out puttering around with those fool paints 
 and brushes? " snorts Uncle Jeff. 
 
 " It it s his life work, Uncle Jeff," says 
 Mrs. Bladen. 
 
 " Eubbish! " says the old boy. " In the first 
 place, it isn t work. Might be for a woman, 
 maybe, but not for an able-bodied man. You 
 know my sentiments on that point well enough. 
 In the second place, when I asked you two to 
 come and live with me, there was no longer any 
 need for him to do that sort of thing. And 
 you understood that too."
 
 124 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Edith sighs and nods her head. 
 
 " But still he goes on with his sissy paint 
 daubing ! says Uncle. 
 
 " They re not daubs! " flashes back Edith. 
 " Brooks has been doing some perfectly splen 
 did work. Everyone says so." 
 
 " Humph! " says Uncle Jeff. " That s what 
 your silly friends tell you. But it doesn t mat 
 ter. I won t have him doing it in my house. 
 You thought, just because I was crippled and 
 couldn t get around or out of these confounded 
 four rooms, that you could fool me. But you 
 can t, you see. And now I m going to give you 
 and Brooks your choice, either he stops paint 
 ing, or out you both go. Now which will it 
 
 . . 
 
 Why, Sir," says Brooks, speakin up 
 prompt but pleasant, " if that is the way you 
 feel about it, we shall go." 
 
 11 Eh? " says Uncle Jeff, squintin hard at 
 him. * Do you mean it ? Want to leave all this 
 for for the one mean little room I found you 
 in?" 
 
 " Under your conditions, most certainly, 
 Sir," says Brooks. " I think Edith feels as I 
 do. Don t you, Edith? " 
 
 " Ye-e-es, of course," says Mrs. Bladen. 
 Then, turnin on Uncle Jeff, " Only I think you 
 are a mean, hard-hearted old man, even if you 
 are my uncle! Oh, you don t know how often
 
 COMING IN ON THE DRAW 125 
 
 I ve wanted to tell you so too, always prying 
 into this, asking questions about that, finding 
 fault, forever cross and snappish and sus 
 picious. A waspish, crabbed old wretch, that s 
 what you are ! I just hate you ! So there ! 
 
 Uncle Jeff winces a little at these last jabs; 
 but he only turns to Brooks and asks quiet, 
 " And I suppose those are your sentiments 
 too? " 
 
 " Edith is a little overwrought," says Brooks. 
 " It s true enough that you re not quite an 
 agreeable person to live with. Still, I hardly 
 feel that I have treated you just right in this 
 matter. I shouldn t have deceived you about the 
 studio. When I found that I couldn t bear to 
 give up my work and live like a loafer on your 
 money, I should have told you so outright. I 
 haven t liked it, Sir, all this dodging and twist 
 ing of the truth. I m glad it s over. Would 
 you prefer to have us go tonight or in the morn 
 ing? " 
 
 " Come now, that s not the point," says 
 Uncle Jeff. " You hate me, too, don t 
 you? " 
 
 " No," says Brooks, " and I m sure Edith 
 doesn t either." 
 
 " Yes I do, Brooks," breaks in Edith. 
 
 Brooks shrugs his shoulders sort of hopeless. 
 
 " In that case," says he, " we shall leave at 
 once now. I will send around for our traps
 
 126 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 later. You have been very generous, and I m 
 afraid I ve shown myself up for an ungrateful 
 ass, if not worse. Goodby, Sir." 
 
 He stands there holdin out his hand, with 
 the old gent starin hard at him and not movin . 
 Fin lly Uncle Jeff breaks the spell. 
 
 " Well, I ll be hanged! " says he. " Bladen, 
 I didn t think it was in you. I took you for 
 one of the milksop kind; which shows just 
 how big a fool an old fool can be. And Edith 
 is right. I m a crazy, quarrelsome old wretch. 
 It isn t all rheumatism, either. Some of it is 
 disposition. And don t you go away thinking 
 I ve been generous, trying to tie you two young 
 people down this way. It was rank selfishness. 
 But you don t know how hard it comes, being 
 shut up like this and able only to move around 
 on wheels after the life I ve led too! I sup 
 pose I ought to be satisfied. I ve had my share 
 nearly thirty years on the go, in jungle, forest, 
 mountains, all over the globe. I ve hunted big 
 game in every but you know all about that. 
 And now I suppose I m worn out, useless. I 
 was trying to get used to it, and having you 
 young folks around has helped a lot. But it 
 hasn t been fair to you not fair." 
 
 He sort of chokes up at the end, and his lower 
 lip trembles some; but only for a second. He 
 straightens up once more in his chair. " You 
 must try to make allowances, Edith," he goes
 
 COMING IN ON THE DRAW 127 
 
 on. " Don t don t hate the old wretch too 
 hard! " 
 
 That got to her, all right. She wa n t gush 
 all the way through, any more n Uncle Jeff 
 was all crust. Next thing he knew she was 
 givin him the fond tackle and sobbin against 
 his vest. 
 
 " There, there! " says he, pattin her sooth- 
 in . " We all make our mistakes, old and 
 young; only us old fellows ought to know bet 
 ter." 
 
 " But but they aren t daubs! " sobs out 
 Edith. " And and you said they were, with 
 out even seeing them." 
 
 " Just like me," says he. " And I m no 
 judge, anyway. But perhaps I d better take a 
 look at some of them. How would that be, eh? 
 Couldn t Tupper bring a couple of them down 
 now? " 
 
 " Oh, may he? " says Edith, brightenin up 
 and turnin off the sprayer. " I have wished 
 that you could see them, you know." 
 
 So Tupper is sent for a couple of paintings, 
 and Brooks chases along to bring down two 
 more. They ranges em on chairs, and wheels 
 Uncle Jeff into a good position. He squints at 
 em earnest and tries hard to work up some 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " Ferryboats, sugar refineries, and the North 
 Eiver," says he. " All looks natural enough.
 
 128 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 I suppose they re well done too; but but see 
 here, young man, couldn t you find anything 
 better to paint? 
 
 11 Where? " says Brooks. " You see, I was 
 able to get out only occasionally without 
 
 " I see," says Uncle Jeff. " Tied to a cranky 
 old man in a wheel chair. But, by George ! I 
 could take you to places worth wasting your 
 paint on. Ever heard of Yangarook? There s 
 a pink mountain there that rises up out of a 
 lake, and on still mornings well, you ought to 
 see it ! I pitched my camp there once for a fort 
 night. I could find it again. You go in from 
 Boola Bay, up the Zambesi, and through the 
 jungle. Then there s the Khula Klaht valley. 
 That s in the Himalayas. Pictures? Why, you 
 could get em there! " 
 
 11 I ve no doubt I could, Sir," says Brooks. 
 " I ve dreamed of doing something like that 
 some day, too. But what s the use? " 
 
 " Eh? " says Uncle Jeff, almost standin up 
 in his excitement. " Why not, my boy? I could 
 take you there, chair or no chair. Didn t I go 
 in a litter once, halfway across Africa, when a 
 clumsy Zulu beater let a dying rhino gore me in 
 the hip ? Yes, and bossed a caravan of sixty men, 
 and me flat on my back! I m better able to 
 move now than I was then, too. And I m ready 
 to try it. Another year of this, and I d be under 
 the ground. I m sick of being cooped up. I m
 
 COMING IN ON THE DRAW 129 
 
 hungry for a breath of mountain air, for a 
 glimpse of the old trails. No use taking my 
 guns ; but you could lug along your painting kit, 
 and Edith could take care of both of us. We 
 could start within a week. What do you say, 
 you two? " 
 
 Brooks he looks over at Edith. " Oh, Uncle 
 Jeff! " says she, her eyes sparklin . " I should 
 just love it! " 
 
 " I could ask for nothing better," says 
 Brooks. 
 
 " Then it s settled," says Uncle Jeff, reach- 
 in out a hand to each of em. " Hurrah for the 
 long trail! We re off !" 
 
 " Me too," says I, " if that s all." 
 
 Ah ! says Uncle Jeff. t Our young friend 
 who s at the bottom of the whole of this. Here, 
 Sir! I m going to teach you a lesson that will 
 make you cautious about gossiping with strange 
 old men. Pick up that leopard skin at your 
 feet." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says I, holdin it out to him. 
 
 No, examine it carefully, says he. * That 
 came from a beast I shot on the shores of Lake 
 Tanganyika. It s the finest specimen of the 
 kind in my whole collection. Throw it over 
 your arm, you young scamp, and get along with 
 you ! 
 
 And they re all grinnin amiable as I backs 
 out with my mouth open.
 
 130 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " What the deuce! " says Mr. Robert after 
 lunch next day, as he gazes first at a big pack 
 age a special messenger has just left, and then 
 at a note which comes with it. " The Palisades 
 at Dusk five hundred dollars! " 
 
 11 Gee! " I gasps. " Did he sting you that 
 hard? " 
 
 " But it s receipted," says he, " with the com 
 pliments of Brooks Bladen. What does that 
 mean? " 
 
 " Means I m some buyer, I guess," says I. 
 " Souvenir of a little fam ly reunion I started, 
 that s all. But you ain t the only one. Wait 
 till you see what I drew from Uncle Jeff.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 
 
 HE meant well, Mr. Robert did; but, say, be 
 tween you and me, he come blamed near spillin 
 the beans. Course, I could see by the squint 
 to his eyelids that he s about to make what 
 passes with him for a comic openin . 
 
 " I hate to do it, Torchy," says he, " espe 
 cially on such a fine afternoon as this." 
 
 11 Go on," says I, " throw the harpoon! Got 
 your yachtin cap on, ain t you? Well, have I 
 got to sub for you at a directors meetin or 
 what! " 
 
 " Worse than that," says he. " You see, 
 Marjorie and Ferdy are having a veranda tea 
 this afternoon, up at their country house." 
 
 * * Help ! says I. * But you ain t billin me 
 for any such " 
 
 11 Oh, not exactly that," says he. " They can 
 get along very well without me, and I shall 
 merely phone out that Tubby Van Orden has 
 asked me to help try out his new forty-footer. 
 But there remains little Gladys. I d promised 
 to bring her out with me when I came. 
 
 131
 
 132 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Ye-e-e-es? " says I doubtful. " She s a 
 little joker, eh? " 
 
 * l Why, not at all, says he. * Merely a young 
 school friend of Marjorie s. Used to be in the 
 kindergarten class when Marjorie was a 
 senior, and took a great fancy to her, as 
 little girls sometimes do to older ones, you 
 know. 
 
 Also it seems little Gladys had been spendin 
 a night or so with another young friend in 
 town, and someone had to round her up and 
 deliver her at the tea, where her folks would be 
 waitin for her. 
 
 " So I m to take her by the hand and tow her 
 up by train, am I? " says I. 
 
 " I had planned," says Mr. Robert, shakin 
 his head solemn, " to have you go up in the 
 machine with her, as Marjorie wants to send 
 someone back in it Miss Vee, by the way. Sure 
 it wouldn t bore you? " 
 
 " Z-z-z-ing! " says I. " Say, if it does you ll 
 never hear about it, believe me! " 
 
 Mr. Robert chuckles. * Then take good care 
 of little Gladys," says he. 
 
 11 Won t I, though! " says I. "I ll tell her 
 fairy tales and feed her stick candy all the 
 way up." 
 
 Honest, I did blow in a quarter on fancy pink 
 gumdrops as I m passin through the arcade; 
 but when I strolls out to the limousine Martin
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 133 
 
 touches his hat so respectful that I gives him a 
 dip into the first bag. 
 
 " Got your sailin orders, ain t you, Mar 
 tin? " says I. " You know we collect a kid 
 first." 
 
 " Oh, yes, Sir," says he. " Madison avenue. 
 I have the number, Sir." Just like that you 
 know. " I have the number, Sir " and more 
 business with the cap brim. Awful bore, ain t 
 it, specially right there on Broadway with so 
 many folks to hear? 
 
 " Very well," says I, languid. Then it s me 
 lollin back on the limousine cushions and star- 
 in haughty at the poor dubs we graze by as 
 they try to cross the street. Gee, but it s some 
 different when you re inside gazin out, than 
 when you re outside gawpin in! And even if 
 you don t have the habit reg lar, but are only 
 there just for the time bein , you re bound to 
 get that chesty feelin more or less. I always 
 do. About the third block I can look slant-eyed 
 at the cheap skates ridin in hired taxis and 
 curl the lip of scorn. 
 
 I ve noticed, though, that when I work up 
 feelin s like that there s bound to be a bump 
 comin to me soon. But I wa n t lookin for this 
 one until it landed. Martin pulls up at the 
 curb, and I hops out, rushes up the steps, and 
 rings the bell.
 
 134 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Little Miss Gladys ready? " says I to the 
 maid. 
 
 She sort of humps her eyebrows and remarks 
 that she ll see. With that she waves me into 
 the reception hall, and pretty soon comes back 
 to report that Miss Gladys will be down in a 
 few minutes. She had the real skirt notion of 
 time, that maid. For more n a solid half-hour 
 I squirms around on a chair wonderin what 
 could be happenin up in the nursery. Then all 
 of a sudden a chatter of goodbys comes from 
 the upper hall, a maid trots down and hands me 
 a suitcase, and then appears this languishin 
 vision in the zippy French lid and the draped 
 silk wrap. 
 
 It s one of these dinky brimless affairs, with 
 skyrocket trimmin on the back, and it fits down 
 over her face like a mush bowl over Baby 
 Brother; but under the rim you could detect 
 some chemical blonde hair and a pair of pink 
 ears ornamented with pearl pendants the size 
 of fruit knife handles. She has a complexion 
 to match, one of the kind that s laid on in lay 
 ers, with the drugstore red only showin 
 through the whitewash in spots, and the lips 
 touched up brilliant. Believe me, it was some 
 artistic makeup ! 
 
 Course, I frames this up for the friend; so 
 I asks innocent, * Excuse me, but when is little 
 Miss Gladys comin ? "
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 135 
 
 " Why, I m Gladys! " comes from between 
 the carmine streaks. 
 
 I gawps at her, then at the maid, and then 
 back at the Ziegfeld vision again. " But, see 
 here!" I goes on. " Mr. Eobert he says 
 how " 
 
 Yes, I know, she breaks in. He phoned. 
 The stupid old thing couldn t come himself, and 
 he s sent one of his young men. That s much 
 nicer. Torchy, didn t he say? How odd! But 
 come along. Don t stand there staring. Good- 
 by, Marie. You must do my hair this way again 
 sometime." 
 
 And next thing I know I m helpin her into 
 the car, while Martin tries to smother a grin. 
 " There you are! " says I, chuckin her suit 
 case in after her. " I I guess I ll ride in 
 front." 
 
 " What! " says she. " And leave me to take 
 that long ride all alone? I ll not do it. Come 
 in here at once, or I ll not go a step! Come! " 
 
 No shrinking violet about Gladys, and as I 
 climbs in I shakes loose the last of that kinder 
 garten dope I d been primed with. I ll admit 
 I was some fussed for awhile too, and I expect 
 I does the dummy act, sittin there gazin into 
 the limousine mirror where she s reflected vivid. 
 I was tryin to size her up and decide whether 
 she really was one of the chicken ballet, or only 
 a high school imitation. I m so busy at it that
 
 136 ON" WITH TORCHY 
 
 I overlooks the fact that she has the same 
 chance of watchin me. 
 
 " Well? " says she, as we swings into Cen 
 tral Park. " I trust you approve? " 
 
 " Eh? " says I, comin out of the trance. 
 " Oh, I get you now. You re waitin for the 
 applause. Let s see, are you on at the Winter 
 Garden, or is it the Casino roof? " 
 
 1 Now don t be rude, says she. Whatever 
 made you think I d been on the stage? " 
 
 " I was only judgin by the get-up," says I. 
 " It s fancy, all right." 
 
 11 Pooh! " says she. " I ve merely had my 
 hair done the new way. I think it s perfectly 
 dear too. There s just one little touch, though, 
 that Marie didn t quite get. I wonder if I could- 
 n t you ll not care if I try, will you? " 
 
 " Oh, don t mind me," says I. 
 
 She didn t. She d already yanked out three 
 or four hatpins and has pried off the zippy lid. 
 
 There, hold that, will you? 1 says she, 
 crowdin over into the middle of the seat so s to 
 get a good view in the mirror, and beginnin to 
 revise the scenic effect on her head. Near as I 
 can make out, the hair don t come near enough 
 to meetin her eyebrows in front or to cover- 
 in her ears on the side. 
 
 Meanwhile she goes on chatty, " I suppose 
 Mother 11 be wild again when she sees me like 
 this. She always does make such a row if I do
 
 f-f 
 
 BELIEVE ME, IT WAS SOME ARTISTIC MAKEUP!
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 137 
 
 anything different. There was an awful scene 
 the first time I had my hair touched up. 
 Fancy! " 
 
 " I was wonderin if that was the natural 
 tint? " says I. 
 
 " Goodness, no! " says Gladys. " It was a 
 horrid brown. And when I used to go to the 
 seminary they made me wear it braided down 
 my back, with a bow on top. I was a sight! 
 The seminary was a stupid place, though. I 
 was always breaking some of their silly rules ; 
 so Mummah sent me to the convent. That was 
 better. Such a jolly lot of girls there, some 
 whose mothers were great actresses. And just 
 think two of my best chums have gone on the 
 stage since! One of them was married and 
 divorced the very first season too. Now wasn t 
 that thrilling? Mother is furious because she 
 still writes to me. How absurd ! And some of 
 the others she won t allow me to invite to the 
 house. But we meet now and then, just the 
 same. There were two in our box party last 
 night, and we had such a ripping lark after 
 ward! " 
 
 Gladys was runnin on as confidential as if 
 she d known me all her life, interruptin the 
 flow only when she makes a jab with the powder 
 puff and uses the eyebrow pencil. And bein as 
 how I d been cast for a thinkin part I sneaks 
 out the bag of gumdrops and tucks one into the
 
 138 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 off side of my face. The move don t escape her, 
 though. 
 
 " Candy? " says she, sniffin . 
 
 " Sorry I can t offer you a cigarette," says I, 
 holdin out the bag. 
 
 " Humph! " says she. " I have smoked 
 them, though. M-m-m-m! Gumdrops! You 
 dear boy! 
 
 Yes, Gladys and me had a real chummy time 
 of it durin that hour s drive, and I notice she 
 put away her share of the candy just as enthusi 
 astic as if she d been a kid in short dresses. As 
 a matter of fact, she acts and talks like any 
 gushy sixteen-year-old. That s about what she 
 is, I discovers; though I wouldn t have guessed 
 it if she hadn t let it out herself. 
 
 But, say, she s some wise for her years, little 
 Gladys is, or else she s a good bluffer ! She had 
 me holdin my breath more n once, as she opens 
 up various lines of chatter. She d seen all the 
 ripe problem plays, was posted on the doin s 
 of the Reno colony, and read the Robert Cham 
 bers stuff as fast as it came out. 
 
 And all the time she talks she s goin through 
 target practice with her eyes, usin me as the 
 mark. A lively pair of lamps Gladys has too, 
 the big, innocent, baby-blue kind that sort of 
 opens up wide and kind of invites you to gaze 
 into the depths until you get dizzy. Them and 
 the little, openin rosebud mouth makes a strong
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 139 
 
 combination, and if it hadn t been for the mural 
 decorations I might have fallen hard for 
 Gladys; but ever since I leaned up against a 
 shiny letterbox once I ve been shy of fresh 
 paint. So I proceeds to hand out the defensive 
 josh. 
 
 " Boll em away, Sis," says I, " roll em the 
 other way! " 
 
 " Pooh! " says she. " Can t a person even 
 look at you! 
 
 " You re only wastin ammunition," says I. 
 " You can t put any spell on me, you know." 
 
 11 Oh, really! " says she, rakin me with a 
 quick broadside. " Do you mean that you don t 
 like me at all? " 
 
 " Since you ve called for it," says I, " I ll 
 admit I ain t strong for these spotlight color 
 schemes, specially on kids." 
 
 * Kids ! she sputters. I think you re per 
 fectly horrid, so there! " 
 
 Stick to it, says I. Makes me feel bet 
 ter satisfied with myself." 
 
 " Bedhead! " says she, runnin her tongue 
 out. 
 
 " Yes, clear to the roots," says I, " and the 
 tint didn t come out of a bottle, either." 
 
 " I don t care," says she. " All the girls 
 do it." 
 
 " Your bunch, maybe," says I; " but there s 
 a few that don t."
 
 140 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Old sticks, yes," says she. "I m glad you 
 like that kind. You re as bad as Mummah." 
 
 " Is that the worst you can say of me? " says 
 I. " How that would please Mother! " 
 
 Oh, sure, quite a homelike little spat we had, 
 passin the left banders back and forth and 
 inside of five minutes she has made it all up 
 again and is holdin out her hand for the last 
 gumdrop. 
 
 " You re silly; but you re rather nice, after 
 all," says she, poutin her lips at me. 
 
 li Now quit that," says I. "I got my fingers 
 crossed." 
 
 " Fraid cat! " says she. " But here s the 
 house, and we re frightfully early. Now don t 
 act as though you thought I might bite you. I m 
 going to take your arm. 
 
 She does too, and cuddles up kittenish as we 
 lands at the porte cochere. I gets the idea of 
 this move. She s caught a glimpse of a little 
 group over by the front door, and she wants to 
 make a showy entrance. 
 
 And who do you guess it is we finds arrangin 
 the flower vases? Oh, only Marjorie and Miss 
 Vee. Here I am too, with giddy Gladys, the 
 imitation front row girl, clingin tight to my 
 right wing. You should have seen Vee s eye 
 brows go up, also Marjorie s stare. It s a 
 minute or so before she recognizes our little 
 friend, and stands there lookin puzzled at us.
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 141 
 
 Talk about your embarrassin stage waits! I 
 could feel my face pinkin up and my ears 
 tinglin . 
 
 " Ah, say," I breaks out, " don t tell me IVe 
 gone and collected the wrong one! " 
 
 At that there comes a giggle from under the 
 zippy lid. 
 
 " Why, it s Gladys! " says Marjorie. " Well, 
 I never! " 
 
 " Of course, you dear old goose! " says 
 Gladys, and rushes to a clinch. 
 
 " But but, Gladys! " says Marjorie, holdin 
 her off for another inspection. " How you 
 have er grown up ! Why, your mother never 
 told me a word! " 
 
 " Oh, Mummah! " says she, indicatin deep 
 scorn. " Besides, she hasn t seen me for nearly 
 two days, and well, I suppose she will fuss, as 
 usual, about the way I m dressed. But I ve had 
 a perfectly glorious visit, and coming up 
 in the car with dear Torchy was such sport. 
 W r asn t it, now? " With which she turns 
 to me. 
 
 " Was it? " says I, and I notices both Vee 
 and Marjorie gazin at me int rested. 
 
 " Of course," says Gladys, prattlin on, " we 
 quarreled all the way up; but it was all his 
 fault, and he oh, phsaw ! Here come my dear 
 parents." 
 
 Takin Gladys as a sample, you d never
 
 142 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 guessed it; for Mother is a quiet, modest ap- 
 pearin little party, with her wavy brown hair 
 parted in the middle and brushed back low. 
 She s wearin her own complexion too, and, 
 while she s dressed more or less neat and 
 stylish, she don t sport ear danglers, or any 
 thing like that. With Father in the background 
 she comes sailin up smilin , and it ain t until 
 she gets a peek under the mush-bowl lid that 
 her expression changes. 
 
 " Why, Gladys! " she gasps. 
 
 11 Now, Mummah! " protests Gladys peevish. 
 " For goodness sake don t begin anyway, not 
 here ! 
 
 11 But but, my dear! " goes on Mother, star- 
 in at her shocked. " That that hat! And 
 your hair! And and your face! : 
 
 11 Oh, bother! " says Gladys, stampin her 
 high-heeled pump. " You d like to have me 
 dress like Cousin Tilly, I suppose? 
 
 " But you know I asked you not to to have 
 that done to your hair again," says Mother. 
 
 11 And I said I would, so there ! " says Gladys 
 emphatic. 
 
 Mother sighs and turns to Father, who is 
 makin his inspection with a weary look on his 
 face. He s just an average, stout-built, good- 
 natured lookin duck, Father is, a little bald in 
 front, and just now he s rubbin the bald spot 
 sort of aimless.
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 143 
 
 " You see, Arthur," says Mother. " Can t 
 you do something? " 
 
 First Father scowls, and then he flushes up. 
 Why er ah oh, blast it all, Sallie, don t 
 put it up to me! " says he. Then he pulls out 
 a long black cigar, bites the end off savage, and 
 beats it around the corner. 
 
 That was a brilliant move of his ; for Mother 
 turns out to be one of the weepy kind, and in a 
 minute more she s slumped into a chair and is 
 sobbin away. She s sure she don t know why 
 Gladys should do such things. Hadn t she for 
 bid her to use so much rouge and powder? 
 Hadn t she asked her not to wear those hideous 
 ear jewels ? And so on and so on, with Gladys 
 standin back poutin defiant. But, say, when 
 they get too big to spank, what else can Father 
 and Mother do? 
 
 Fin lly Vee seems to have an idea. She whis 
 pers it into Marjorie s ear, slips into the house, 
 and comes back with a hand mirror and a damp 
 washcloth, which she proceeds to offer to 
 Gladys, suggestin that she use it. 
 
 " Indeed I sha n t! " says Gladys, her big 
 eyes flashin scrappy. " I shall stay just as I 
 am, and if Mother wants to be foolish she can 
 get over it, that s all! " And Gladys switches 
 over to a porch chair and slams herself 
 into it. 
 
 Vee looks at her a minute, and then bites her
 
 144 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 upper lip like she was keepin back some re 
 marks. Next she whispers again to Marjorie, 
 who passes it on to Mother, and then the three 
 of em disappears in the house, leavin Gladys 
 poutin on one side of the front door, and me 
 in a porch swing on the other waitin for the 
 next act. 
 
 Must have been ten minutes or more before 
 the two plotters appears again, chattin away 
 merry with Mother, who s between em. And, 
 say, you should have seen Mother ! Talk about 
 your startlin changes! They d been busy with 
 the make-up box, them two had, and now Moth 
 er s got on just as much war paint as Daughter 
 maybe a little more. Also they ve dug up a 
 blond transformation somewhere, which covers 
 up all the brown hair, and they ve fitted her 
 out with long jet earrings, and touched up her 
 eyebrows and, believe me, with all that yellow 
 hair down over her eyes, and the rouged lips, 
 she looks just like she d strayed in from the 
 White Light district ! 
 
 You wouldn t think just a little store hair and 
 face calcimine could make such a change in any 
 body. Honest, when I tumbles to the fact that 
 this sporty lookin female is only Mother fixed 
 up I almost falls out of the swing! That s 
 nothin to the jolt that gets to Gladys. 
 
 " Mother! " she gasps. " Wha what have 
 you been doing? "
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 145 
 
 " Why, I ve been getting ready for the tea, 
 Gladys," says she. 
 
 " But but, Mother," says Gladys, " you re 
 never going to let people see you like that, are 
 you? " 
 
 " Why not, my dear? " says Mother. 
 
 " But your face ugh! " says Gladys. 
 
 " Oh, bother! " says Mother. " I suppose 
 you d like to have me look like Aunt Martha? " 
 
 Gladys stares at her for awhile with her eyes 
 wide and set, like she was watchin somethin 
 horrible that she couldn t turn away from, and 
 then she goes to pieces in a weepin fit of her 
 own. Nobody interferes, and right in the midst 
 of it she breaks off, marches over to a wicker 
 porch table where the mirror and washcloth 
 had been left, props the glass up against a vase, 
 and goes to work. First off she sheds the pearl 
 earrings. 
 
 At that Mother sits down opposite and fol 
 lows suit with her jet danglers. 
 
 Next Gladys mops off the scenic effect. 
 
 Marjorie produces another washcloth, and 
 Mother makes a clean sweep too. 
 
 Gladys snatches out a handful of gold hair 
 pins, destroys the turban twist that Marie had 
 spent so much time buildin up, and knots her 
 hair simple in the back. 
 
 Mother caps this by liftin off the blond 
 transformation.
 
 146 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 And as I left for a stroll around the grounds 
 they d both got back to lookin more or less nice 
 and natural. They had gone to a close clinch 
 and was sobbin affectionate on each other s 
 shoulders. 
 
 Later the tea got under way and went on as 
 such things gen rally do, with folks comin and 
 goin , and a buzz of chin music that you could 
 hear clear out to the gate, where I was waitin 
 with Martin until we should get the signal to 
 start back. 
 
 I didn t know just how it would be, but I sus 
 pected I might be invited to ride in front on the 
 home trip. I d made up my mind to start there, 
 anyway. But, say, when the time comes and 
 Vee trips out to the limousine, where I m 
 holdin the door open and lookin sheepish, I 
 takes a chance on a glance into them gray eyes 
 of hers. I got a chill too. It s only for a sec 
 ond, though. She was doing her best to look 
 cold and distant; but behind that I could spot 
 a smile. So I changes the programme. 
 
 " Say," says I, followin her in and shuttin 
 the door, " wa n t that kid Gladys the limit, 
 though 1 " 
 
 " Why," says she, givin me the quizzin 
 stare, " I thought you had just loads of fun 
 coming up." 
 
 " Hearing which cruel words," says I, " our 
 hero strode moodily into his castle."
 
 GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL 147 
 
 Vee snickers at that. " And locked the 
 haughty maiden out in the cold, I suppose? " 
 says she. 
 
 " If it was you," says I, " I d take the gate 
 off the hinges." 
 
 " Silly! " says she. " Do you know, Gladys 
 looked real sweet afterward." 
 
 " I ll bet the reform don t last, though," says 
 I. * * But that was a great scheme of yours for 
 persuadin her to scrub off the stencil work. 
 There s so many of that kind nowadays, maybe 
 the idea would be worth copyrightin . What do 
 you think, Vee! " 
 
 Never mind the rest, though. We had a per 
 fectly good ride back, and up to date Aunty ain t 
 wise to it. 
 
 Of course by next mornin too Mr. Kobert has 
 forgot all about the afternoon before, and he 
 seems surprised when I puts in an expense bill 
 of twenty-five cents. 
 
 " What s this for? " says he. 
 
 11 Gumdrops for little Gladys," says I, and 
 as he forks over a quarter I never cracks a 
 smile. 
 
 Wait until he hears the returns from Mar- 
 jorie, though ! I 11 give him some string to pay 
 up for that kindergarten steer of his. Watch 
 me!
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LATE EETUENS ON POPOVEB 
 
 " WELL? " says I, keepin my feet up on the 
 desk and glancin casual over the brass rail. 
 " What s your complaint, Spaghetti? " 
 
 It s a wrong guess, to begin with; but I 
 wa n t even takin the trouble to place him 
 accurate. He s some kind of a foreigner, and 
 that s enough. Besides, from the fidgety way 
 he s grippin his hat in both hands, and the 
 hesitatin , sidlin style he has of makin his ap 
 proach, I figured he must be a stray that had 
 got the wrong number. 
 
 " If if you please, Sir," says he, bowin 
 elaborate and humble, " Mr. Eobert Ellins." 
 
 1 Gwan ! says I. You read that on the 
 floor directory. You don t know Mr. Robert." 
 But but if you please, Sir," he goes on, 
 
 I wish to speak with him." 
 
 " You do, eh? " says I. " Now, ain t that 
 cute of you ? Think you can pick out any name 
 on the board and drift in for a chat, do you? 
 Come now, what you peddlin dollar safety 
 razors, bullpups, or what? " 
 
 148 
 
 I I 
 i I
 
 LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER 149 
 
 He ain t a real live wire, this heavy-faced, 
 wide-shouldered, squatty-built party with the 
 bumper crop of curly black hair. He blinks his 
 big, full eyes kind of solemn, starin at me 
 puzzled, and about as intelligent as a cow gazin* 
 over a fence. An odd lookin gink he was, sort 
 of a cross between a dressed up bartender on 
 his day off and a longshoreman havin his pic 
 ture taken. 
 
 " Excuse," says he, rousin a little, " but 
 but it is not to peddle. I would wish to speak 
 with Mr. Robert Ellins." 
 
 " Well, then, you can t," says I, wavin to 
 wards the door ; " so beat it ! " 
 
 This don t make any more impression than as 
 if I d tried to push him over with one finger. 
 " I would wish," he begins again, " to speak 
 with " 
 
 " Say, that s all on the record," says I, " and 
 the motion s been denied." 
 
 11 But I " he starts in once more, " I 
 
 have " 
 
 Just then Piddie comes turkeyin over pomp 
 ous and demands to know what all the debate 
 is about. 
 
 Look what wants to see Mr. Robert! : 
 says I. 
 
 " Impossible! " says Piddie, takin one look. 
 " Send him away at once! "
 
 150 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Hear that? " says I to Curlylocks. " Not 
 a chance ! Fade, Spaghetti, fade ! 
 
 The full force of that decision seems to pene 
 trate his nut; for he gulps hard once or twice, 
 the muscles on his thick throat swells up rigid, 
 and next a big round tear leaks out of his off 
 eye and trickles down over his cheek. Maybe 
 it don t look some absurd too, seein signs of 
 such deep emotion on a face like that. 
 
 Now, none of that, my man ! puts in Pid- 
 die, who s as chicken hearted as he is peevish. 
 " Torchy, you you attend to him." 
 
 11 "What 11 I do," says I, " call in a plumber 
 to stop the leak? " 
 
 " Find out who he is and what he wants," 
 says he, " and then pack him off. I am very 
 busy. 
 
 " Well," says I, turnin to the thick guy, 
 " what s the name? " 
 
 " Me? " says he. " I I am Zandra Popo- 
 koulis." 
 
 " Help! " says I. " Popo here, write it on 
 the pad." But even when he s done that I 
 can t do more than make a wild stab at sayin 
 it. " Oh yes, thanks," I goes on. " Popover 
 for short, eh? Think Mr. Robert would recog 
 nize you by that? 
 
 " Excuse, Sir," says he, " but at the club he 
 would speak to me as Mike." 
 
 " Oh, at the club, eh? " says I. " Say, I m
 
 LATE BETUENS ON POPOVER 151 
 
 beginnin to get a glimmer. Been workin at 
 one of Mr. Robert s clubs, have you? " 
 
 " I am his waiter for long time, Sir," says 
 Popover. 
 
 Course, the rest was simple. He d quit two 
 or three months ago to take a trip back home, 
 havin been promised by the head steward that 
 he could have his place again any time inside 
 of a year. But imagine the base perfidy! A 
 second cousin of the meat chef has drifted in 
 meanwhile, been set to work at Popover s old 
 tables, and the result is that when Mike reports 
 to claim his job he gets the cold, heartless 
 chuck. 
 
 " Why not rustle another, then? " says I. 
 
 You d thought, though, to see the gloomy way 
 he shakes his head, that this was the last chance 
 he had left. I gather too that club jobs are 
 fairly well paid, steadier than most kinds of 
 work, and harder to pick up. 
 
 " Also," he adds, sort of shy, " there is 
 Armina. 
 
 Oh, always ! says I. Bunch of mil 
 linery in the offing. It never fails. You re her 
 steady, eh? " 
 
 Popover smiles grateful and pours out de 
 tails. Armina was a fine girl, likewise rich 
 oh, yes. Her father had a flower jobbin busi 
 ness on West 28th-st. very grand. For Ar 
 mina he had ideas. Any would-be son-in-law
 
 152 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 must be in business too. Yet there was a way. 
 He would take in a partner with two hundred 
 and fifty dollars cash. And Mr. Popokoulis had 
 saved up nearly that much when he d got this 
 fool notion of goin back home into his head. 
 Now here he was flat broke and carryin the 
 banner. It was not only a case of goin hungry, 
 but of losin out on the fair Armina. Hence 
 the eye moisture. 
 
 " Yes, yes," says I. " But the weeps won t 
 help any. And, even if Mr. Robert would listen 
 to all this sad tale, it s ten to one he wouldn t 
 butt in at the club. I might get a chance to put 
 it up to him, though. Suppose you drop in to 
 morrow sometime, and I ll let you know." 
 
 " But I would wish," says Popover, " to 
 speak with " 
 
 Ah, ditch it ! " I breaks in weary. * Say, 
 you must have been takin militant lessons from 
 Maud Malone. Look here! If you re bound 
 to stick around and take a long chance, camp 
 there on the bench. Mr. Robert s busy inside 
 now; but if he should get through before lunch 
 well, we ll see. But don t go bankin on any 
 thing." 
 
 And it was a lovely sample of arrested men 
 tal anguish that I has before me for the next 
 hour or so, this Popokoulis gent, with his 
 great, doughy face frozen into a blank stare, 
 about as expressive as a half-baked squash pie,
 
 LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER 153 
 
 his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, and only now 
 and then a spasm in his throat showin that he. 
 was still thinkin an occasional thought. 
 
 Course, Piddie discovers him after a while 
 and demands pettish, " That person still here! 
 Who is he! " 
 
 " Club waiter with a mislaid job," says I., 
 
 " What! " says Piddie. " A waiter? Just 
 a common waiter 1 ? 
 
 I couldn t begin to put in all the deep dis 
 gust that Piddie expresses; for, along with 
 his fondness for gettin next to swell people,, 
 he seems to have a horror of mixin at all with 
 the common herd. Waiters!" he sniffs. 
 " The scum of mankind. If they had a spark 
 of courage, or a gleam of self respect, or a tea- 
 spoonful of brains, they wouldn t be waiters- 
 Bah! " 
 
 " Also I expect," says I, "if they was all 
 noble specimens of manhood like us, Sherry s, 
 and Rector s would have to be turned into auto 
 matic food dispensaries, eh? 
 
 " No fear! " says Piddie. " The lower 
 classes will always produce enough spineless 
 beings to wear aprons and carry trays. Look at 
 that one there! I suppose he never has a 
 thought or an ambition above " 
 
 Bz-z-z-zt ! goes the buzzer over my desk, and 
 I m off on the jump for Mr. Robert s room. I 
 wa n t missin any of his calls that mornin ; for
 
 154 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 a partic lar friend of mine was in there Skid 
 Mallory. Remember Skid, the young college 
 hick that I helped find his footin when he first 
 hit the Corrugated? You know he married a 
 Senator s daughter, and got boosted into an 
 assistant general manager s berth. And Skid s 
 been making good ever since. He d just come 
 back from a little trip abroad, sort of a delayed 
 weddin tour, and you can t guess what he d 
 pulled off. 
 
 I d only heard it sketched out so far, but it 
 seems while him and young Mrs. Mallory was 
 over there in Athens, or some such outlandish 
 place, this late muss with the Turks was just 
 breakin loose. Skid he leaves Wif ey at the hotel 
 one mornin while he goes out for a little stroll; 
 drifts down their Newspaper Row, where the 
 red ink war extras are so thick the street looks 
 like a raspberry patch ; follows the drum music 
 up as far as City Hall, where the recruits are 
 bein reviewed by the King; listens to the Greek 
 substitute for Ruh-ruh-ruh ! Soak em ! 
 and the next thing he knows he s wavin his 
 lid and yellin with the best of em. 
 
 It must have stirred up some of that old 
 football fightin blood of his ; for he d organized 
 a reg lar cheerin section, right there opposite 
 to the royal stand, and was whoopin things up 
 like it was fourth down and two to go on the 
 five-yard line, when all of a sudden over pikes
 
 LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER 155 
 
 a Colonel or something from the King s staff 
 and begins poundin Skid on the back gleeful. 
 
 It s a young Greek that used to be in his en- 
 gineerin class, back in the dear old college days. 
 He says Skid s just the man he wants to come 
 help him patch up the railroad that the Turks 
 have been puttin on the blink as they dropped 
 back towards headquarters. Would he? Why, 
 him bein railroad construction expert of the 
 Corrugated, this was right in his line ! Sure he 
 would ! 
 
 And when Mrs. Mallory sees him again at 
 lunchtime he s all costumed as a Major in the 
 Greek army, and is about to start for the scene 
 of atrocities. That s Skid, all over. He wa n t 
 breathin out any idle gusts, either. He not 
 only rebuilds their bloomin old line better n 
 new, so they can rush soldiers and supplies to 
 the front; but after the muss is all over he 
 springs his order book on the gover ment and 
 lands such a whackin big contract for steel 
 rails and girders that Old Hickory decides to 
 work day and night shifts in two more rollin* 
 mills. 
 
 Course, since it was Mr. Robert who helped 
 me root for Skid in the first place, he s tickled 
 to death, and he tells me confidential how 
 they re goin to get the directors together at 
 a big banquet that evenin and have a reg lar 
 lovefeast, with Skid at the head of the table.
 
 156 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Just now I finds Mr. Robert pumpin him for 
 some of the details of his experience over there, 
 and after I lugs in an atlas they sent me out for, 
 so Skid can point out something on the map, 
 I just naturally hangs around with my ear 
 stretched. 
 
 " Ah, that s the place," says Skid, puttin his 
 finger on a dot, * Mustapha ! Well, it was about 
 six miles east from there that we had our worst 
 job. Talk about messes ! Those Turks may not 
 know how to build a decent railroad, but believe 
 me they re stars at wrecking a line thoroughly! 
 At Mustapha they d ripped up the rails, burned 
 the ties, and blown great holes in the roadbed 
 with dynamite. But I soon had a dozen grad 
 ing gangs at work on that stretch, and new 
 bridges started, and then I pushed on alone to 
 see what was next. 
 
 " That was when I got nearest to the big 
 noise. Off across the hills the Turks were 
 pounding away with their heavy guns, and I 
 was anxious for a look. I kept going and going; 
 but couldn t find any of our people. Night was 
 shutting in too, and the first thing I knew I 
 wasn t anywhere in particular, with nothing in 
 sight but an old sheep pen. I tried bunking 
 there; but it wasn t restful, and before daylight 
 I went wandering on again. I wanted to locate 
 our advance and get a cup of coffee. 
 
 " I must have gone a couple of miles farther,
 
 LATE RETUKNS ON POPOVER 157 
 
 and it was getting light, when a most infernal 
 racket broke loose not one hundred yards ahead. 
 Really, you know, I thought I d blundered into 
 the midst of a battle. Then in a minute the 
 noise let up, and the smoke blew away, and 
 there, squatting behind a machine gun up on the 
 side of a hill, was one lone Greek soldier. Not 
 another soul in sight, mind you; just this ab 
 surd, dirty, smoke-stained person, calmly feed 
 ing another belt of cartridges into his gun! 
 
 " Hello ! says I. What the deuce are you 
 doing here? * Holding the hill, Sir, says he, 
 in good United States. * Not all alone? says 
 I. He shrugs his shoulders at that. The 
 others were killed or hurt, says he. The Red 
 Cross people took them all away last night, 
 Lieutenant, Sergeant, everyone. But our bat 
 tery must keep the hill. Where s the rest 
 of the advance, though? says I. l I don t 
 know, says he. And you mean to say, says I, 
 you ve been here all night with the Turkish 
 artillery hammering away at you ? They are 
 bad shots, those Turks, very bad, says he. 
 Also they send infantry to drive me away, 
 many times. See ! There come some more. 
 Down there! Ah-r-r-r! You will, will you? * 
 And with that he turns loose his big pepperbox 
 on a squad that had just started to dash out 
 of a ravine and rush him. They were coming 
 our way on the jump. Scared? Say, if there d
 
 158 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 been anything to have crawled into, I d have 
 been in it! As there wasn t, I just flattened 
 myself on the ground and waited until it was 
 all over. 
 
 " Oh, he crumpled em up, all right! He 
 hadn t ground out one belt of cartridges before 
 he had em on the run. But I want to tell you 
 I didn t linger around to see how the next affair 
 would turn out. I legged it back where I d come 
 from, and by nine o clock I was behind our own 
 lines, trying to find out what sort of campaign 
 this was that left one machine gun to stave off 
 the whole Turkish army. Of course no one 
 knew anything very definite. The best guess 
 was that our advance had been swung off for a 
 flank movement, and that this particular one- 
 man battery had been overlooked. I don t even 
 know whether he was picked up again, or 
 whether the Turks finally got him; but let me 
 tell you, talk as much about your gallant Bul 
 garians as you like, some of those little Greeks 
 were good fighters too. Anyway, I ll take off 
 my hat any day to that one on the hill." 
 
 " Gee! " I breaks out. " Some scrapper, 
 what? " 
 
 At which Mr. Eobert swings around and 
 gives me a look. " Ah! " says he. " I hadn t 
 realized, Torchy, that we still had the pleasure 
 of your company." 
 
 " Don t mention it," says I. "I was just
 
 LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER 159 
 
 go in to er by the way, Mr. Robert, there s 
 a poor scrub waitin outside for a word with 
 you, an old club waiter. Says you knew him as 
 Mike." 
 
 " Mike? " says he, looking blank. 
 
 " His real name sounds like Popover," says 
 I. " It s a case of retrievin a lost job." 
 
 " Oh, very well," says Mr. Robert. " Per 
 haps I ll see him later. Not now. And close the 
 door after you, please." 
 
 So I m shunted back to the front office, so 
 excited over that war story that I has to hunt 
 up Piddie and pass it on to him. It gets him 
 too. Anything in the hero line always does, and 
 this noble young Greek doin the come-one- 
 come-all act was a picture that even a two-by- 
 four imagination like Piddie s couldn t fail to 
 grasp. 
 
 * By Jove, though ! says he. * The spirit 
 of old Thermopylae all over again! I wish I 
 could have seen that ! 
 
 1 i As close as Skid did ? says I. * Ah, you d 
 have turned so green they d taken you for a 
 pickled string bean." 
 
 " Oh, I don t pretend to be a daredevil," ad 
 mits Piddie, with a sudden rush of modesty. 
 " Still, it is a pity Mr. Mallory did not stay 
 long enough to find out the name of this un 
 known hero, and give it to the world." 
 
 " The moral of which is," says I, " that all
 
 160 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 heroes ought to carry their own press agents 
 with em." 
 
 We d threshed it all out, Piddie and me, and 
 I d gone back to my desk some reluctant, for 
 this jobless waiter was still sheddin his gloom 
 around the reception room, and I was just think- 
 in how it would be to put a screen in front of 
 him, when Mr. Eobert and Skid comes out arm 
 in arm, swappin josh about that banquet that 
 was to be pulled off. 
 
 " Of course you ll come." Mr. Robert is in- 
 sistin . " Only a few directors, you know. 
 No, no set speeches, or anything like that. But 
 they ll want to hear how you came to get that 
 big order, and about some of the interesting 
 things you saw over there, just as you ve told 
 me." 
 
 I had hopped up and was holdin the gate 
 wide open, givin Skid all the honors, and Mr. 
 Robert was escortin him out to the elevator, 
 when I notices that this Popover party has got 
 Ms eye on the boss and is standin right where 
 lie s blockin the way. 
 
 Hey, Poppy ! says I in a stage whisper. 
 * Back out! Reverse yourself! Take a 
 sneak!" But of all the muleheads ! There he 
 stands, grippin his hat, and thinkin only of 
 that lost job. 
 
 " All right," Skid is saying; " but remember 
 now, no floral tributes, or gushy introductions,
 
 LATE KETUENS ON POPOVER 161 
 
 or sitting in the spotlight for me at this er 
 
 er Well, as I m a living mortal! " He 
 
 gets this last out after a gasp or two, and then 
 stops stock still, starin straight in front of 
 him. 
 
 " What is it? " says Mr. Robert. " What s 
 up? " And we sees that Skid Mallory has his 
 eyes glued to this waiter shrimp. 
 
 " In the name of all that s good," says he, 
 " where did you come from? " 
 
 You can t jar Popover, though, by any lit 
 tle thing like that. When he gets an idea in his 
 dome it s a fixture there. " I would wish to 
 speak," says he, " with Mr. Ellins." 
 
 " Yes, yes, another time," says Mr. Robert 
 hasty. 
 
 " But see here! " says Skid, still gazin 
 steady. " Don t you remember me? Take a 
 good look now." 
 
 Popover gives him a glance and shakes his 
 head. " Maybe I serve you at the club, Sir," 
 says he. 
 
 " Club be blowed! " says Skid. " The last 
 time I saw you you were serving a machine gun, 
 six miles east of Mustapha. Isn t that so? 
 
 * Oh, Mustapha ! says Popover, his eyes 
 lightin up a little. " On the hill just beyond 
 where the bridge was blown up? You came at 
 the night s end. Oh, yes! " 
 
 " I knew it ! " exclaims Skid. "I d have bet
 
 162 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 a thousand same curly hair, same shoulders, 
 same eyes. Ellins, here s that lone hero I was 
 telling you about. Here! " 
 
 " But but that s only Mike," says Mr. Rob 
 ert, gazin from one to the other. " Used to 
 be a waiter at the club, you know." 
 
 " I don t care what he used to be," says 
 Skid, l or what he is now, I want to shake hands 
 with him." 
 
 Popover he pinks up and acts foolish about 
 swappin grips; but Skid insists. 
 
 " So you beat em out in the end, did you? " 
 Skid goes on. " Just naturally put it all over 
 that whole bunch of Turks, didn t you? But 
 how did it happen? " 
 
 " I don t know," says Popover, fingerin his 
 hat nervous. I am very busy all the time, and 
 and I have nothing to eat all night. You see, 
 all other Greek soldiers was hurt; and me, I 
 must stay to keep the Turks from the hill. Very 
 busy time, Sir. And I am not much for fight, 
 anyway. 
 
 " Great Scott! " says Skid. " He says he s 
 not much for but see here, how did it end? " 
 
 Popover gives a shoulder shrug. " Once 
 more they run at me after you go," says he, 
 " and then come our brave Greek General with 
 big army and chase Turks away. And the Cap 
 tain say why am I such big fool as to stay be 
 hind. That is all I know. Three weeks ago I
 
 LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER 163 
 
 am discharged from being soldier. Now I come 
 back here, and I have no more my good job. I 
 am much sorry. 
 
 " Think of that! " breaks out Skid. " Talk 
 about the ingratitude of Republics ! Why, Eng 
 land would have given him the Victoria Cross 
 for that ! But can t something or other be done 
 about this job of his? " 
 
 " Why, certainly," says Mr. Robert. " Here, 
 let s go back into my office." 
 
 " Hey, Popover," says I, steerin him re 
 spectful through the gate. " Don t forget to 
 tell them about Armina too." 
 
 And as the three of em streams in, with the 
 waiter in the middle, I turns to find Piddie gaz- 
 in at the sight button-eyed. 
 
 " Wa n t you sayin how much you d like to 
 see the lone hero of the hill? " says I. " Well, 
 take a good look. That s him, the squatty one. 
 Uh-huh. Mike, alias Popover, who quit bein 
 a waiter to fight for his country, and after he d 
 licked all the Turks in sight comes pikin back 
 here to hunt around for his tray again. Say, 
 all of em ain t such scum, are they ? 
 
 It was a great old banquet too ; for Skid in 
 sists that if they must have a conquerin hero 
 to drink to Mr. Popokoulis is the only real thing 
 in sight. Mike wouldn t stand for a seat at the 
 table, though; so they compromised by havin 
 him act as head waiter. Skid tells the story
 
 164 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 just the same, and makes him stand out where 
 they can all see him. There was some cheerin 
 done too. Mr. Robert was tellin me about it 
 only this mornin . 
 
 " And you ve got him his old place at the 
 club, eh? " says I. 
 
 " No," says he. " I ve arranged to buy out a 
 half interest in a florist s shop for Mr. Popo- 
 koulis. 
 
 "Oh!" says I. " Backin him for the Ar- 
 mina handicap, eh? It ought to be a cinch. 
 Some chap, that Popover, even if he was a 
 waiter, eh? It s tough on Piddie, though. This 
 thing has tied all his ideas in double bow- 
 knots."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 
 
 SOMEHOW I sensed it as a kind of a batty ex 
 cursion at the start. You see, he d asked me 
 offhand would I come, and I d said " Sure, 
 Bo," careless like, not thinkin any more about 
 it until here Saturday afternoon I finds myself 
 on the way to spend the week-end with J. Mere 
 dith Stidler. 
 
 Sounds imposin , don t it? But his name s 
 the weightiest part of J. Meredith. Course, 
 around the Corrugated offices we call him 
 Merry, and some of the bond clerks even get it 
 Miss Mary; which ain t hardly fair, for while 
 he s no husky, rough-neck specimen, there s no 
 sissy streak in him, either. Just one of these 
 neat, finicky featherweights, J. Meredith is; 
 a well finished two-by-four, with more polish 
 than punch. You know the kind, fussy about 
 his clothes, gen rally has a pink or something 
 in his coat lapel, hair always just so, and carries 
 a vest pocket mirror. We ain t got a classier 
 dresser in the shop. Not noisy, you under 
 stand: quiet grays, as a rule; but made for him 
 special and fittin snug around the collar. 
 
 165
 
 166 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Near thirty, I should guess Merry was, and 
 single, of course. No head of a fam ly would 
 be sportin custom-made shoes and sleeve mono 
 grams, or havin his nails manicured reg lar 
 twice a week. I d often wondered how he could 
 do it too, on seventy-five dollars a month. 
 
 For J. Meredith wa n t even boss of his de 
 partment. He just holds down one of the stools 
 in the audit branch, where he has about as much 
 show of gettin a raise as a pavin block has of 
 oein blown up Broadway on a windy day. We 
 got a lot of material like that in the Corru 
 gated, just plain, simple cogs in a big dividend- 
 producin machine, grindin along steady and 
 patient, and their places easy filled when one 
 wears out. A caster off one of the rolltop desks 
 would be missed more. 
 
 Yet J. Meredith takes it cheerful. Always 
 has a smile as he pushes through the brass gate, 
 comin or go in , and stands all the joshin that s 
 handed out to him without gettin peevish. So 
 when he springs this over-Sunday invite I don t 
 feel like turnin it down. Course, I m wise that 
 it s sort of a charity contribution on his part. 
 He puts it well, though. 
 
 " It may be rather a dull way for you to pass 
 the day," says he; " but I d like to have you 
 come. 
 
 " Let s see," says I. " Vincent won t be ex- 
 pectin me up to Newport until later in the
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 167 
 
 season, the Bradley Martins are still abroad, 
 I ve cut the Reggy Vanderbilts, and well, 
 you re on, Merry. Call it the last of the month, 
 eh? " 
 
 " The fourth Saturday, then," says he. 
 " Good! " 
 
 I was blamed near lettin the date get past 
 me too, when he stops me as I m pikin for the 
 dairy lunch Friday noon. * Oh, I say, Torchy, 
 says he, ah er about tomorrow. Hope you 
 don t mind my mentioning it, but there will be 
 two other guests ladies at dinner tomorrow 
 night." 
 
 He seemed some fussed at gettin it out; so 
 I catches the cue quick. " That s easy," says I. 
 " Count me out until another time." 
 
 " Oh, not at all," says he. " In fact, you re 
 expected. I merely wished to suggest, you 
 know, that er well, if you cared to do so, you 
 might bring along a suit of dark clothes." 
 
 " I get you," says I. " Swell comp ny. 
 Trust me." 
 
 I winks mysterious, and chuckles to myself, 
 " Here s where I slip one on J. Meredith." 
 And when I packs my suitcase I puts in that full 
 evenin regalia that I wins off m Son-in-Law 
 Ferdy, you remember, in that real estate deal. 
 Some Cinderella act, I judged that would be, 
 when Merry discovers the meek and lowly office 
 boy arrayed like a night-bloomin head waiter.
 
 168 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " That ought to hold him for a spell," thinks I. 
 
 But, say, you should see the joint we fetches 
 up at out on the south shore of Long Island 
 that afternoon. Figurin on a basis of seventy- 
 five per, I was expectin some private boardin 
 house where Merry has the second floor front, 
 maybe, with use of the bath. But listen, a 
 clipped privet hedge, bluestone drive, flower gar 
 dens, and a perfectly good double-breasted man 
 sion standin back among the trees. It s a little 
 out of date so far as the lines go, slate roof, 
 jigsaw work on the dormers, and a cupola, 
 but it s more or less of a plute shack, after all. 
 Then there s a real live butler standin at the 
 carriage entrance to open the hack door and 
 take my bag. 
 
 Gee ! says I. Say, Merry, who belongs 
 to all this? " 
 
 " Oh ! Hadn t I told you! " says he. " You 
 see, I live with my aunt. She is er somewhat 
 peculiar; but 
 
 " I should worry! " I breaks in. " Believe 
 me, with a joint like this in her own name, I 
 wouldn t kick if she had her loft full of hum- 
 min birds. Who s next in line for it? 
 
 " Why, I suppose I am," says J. Meredith, 
 " under certain conditions." 
 
 " Z-z-zing! " says I. " And you hangin onto 
 a cheap skate job at the Corrugated! 
 
 Well, while he s showin me around the
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 169 
 
 grounds I pumps out the rest of the sketch. 
 Seems butlers and all that was no new thing to 
 Merry. He d been brought up on em. He d 
 lived abroad too. Studied music there. Not 
 that he ever meant to work at it, but just be 
 cause he liked it. You see, about that time the 
 fam ly income was rollin in reg lar every month 
 from the mills back in Pawtucket, or Fall River, 
 or somewhere. 
 
 Then all of a sudden things begin to hap 
 pen, strikes, panics, stock grabbin by the 
 trusts. Father s weak heart couldn t stand the 
 strain. Meredith s mother followed soon after. 
 And one rainy mornin he wakes up in Baden 
 Baden, or Monte Carlo, or wherever it was, to 
 find that he s a double orphan at the age of 
 twenty-two, with no home, no cash, and no 
 trade. All he could do was to write an S. 0. S. 
 message back to Aunt Emma Jane. If she had- 
 n t produced, he d been there yet. 
 
 But Aunty got him out of pawn. Panics and 
 so on hadn t cleaned out her share of the Stid- 
 ler estate not so you d notice it! She d been 
 on the spot, Aunt Emma had, watchin the mar 
 ket. Long before the jinx hit "Wall Street she d 
 cashed in her mill stock for gold ballast, and 
 when property prices started tumblin she dug 
 up a lard pail from under the syringa bush and 
 begun investin in bargain counter real estate. 
 Now she owns business blocks, villa plots, and
 
 170 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 shore frontage in big chunks, and spends her 
 time collectin rents, makin new deals, and 
 swearin off her taxes. 
 
 You d most thought, with a perfectly good 
 nephew to blow in some of her surplus on, she d 
 made a fam ly pet of J. Meredith. But not her. 
 Pets wa n t in her line. Her prescription for 
 him was work, something reg lar and constant, 
 so he wouldn t get into mischief. She didn t 
 care what it brought in, so long as he kept him 
 self in clothes and spendin money. And that 
 was about Merry s measure. He could add up a 
 column of figures and put the sum down neat 
 at the bottom of the page. So he fitted into our 
 audit department like a nickel into a slot ma 
 chine. And there he stuck. 
 
 " But after sportin around Europe so long," 
 says I, " don t punchin the time clock come 
 kind of tough? " 
 
 1 It s a horrible, dull grind, says he. Like 
 being caught in a treadmill. But I suppose I 
 deserve nothing better. I m one of the useless 
 sort, you know. I ve no liking, no ability, for 
 business ; but I m in the mill, and I can t see any 
 way out." 
 
 For a second J. Meredith s voice sounds hope 
 less. One look ahead has taken out of him what 
 little pep he had. But the next minute he braces 
 up, smiles weary, and remarks, " Oh, well! 
 What s the use? "
 
 Not knowin the answer to that I shifts the 
 subject by tryin to get a line on the other com- 
 p ny that s expected for dinner. 
 
 " They re our next-door neighbors," says he, 
 " the Misses Hibbs." 
 
 " Queens? " says I. 
 
 He pinks up a little at that. " I presume you 
 would call them old maids," says he. " They 
 are about my age, and er the truth is, they 
 are rather large. But really they re quite 
 nice, refined, cultured, all that sort of thing. 
 
 " Specially which one? " says I, givin him 
 the wink. 
 
 " Now, now! " says he, shakin his head. 
 " You re as bad as Aunt Emma. Besides, 
 they re her guests. She asks them over quite 
 often. You see, they own almost as much prop 
 erty around here as she does, and well, com 
 mon interests, you know." 
 
 " Sure that s all? " says I, noticin Merry 
 flushin up more. 
 
 Why, of course, says he. That is er 
 well, I suppose I may as well admit that Aunt 
 Emma thinks she is trying her hand at match 
 making. Absurd, of course. 7 
 
 * Oh-ho ! says I. Wants you to annex 
 the adjoinin real estate, does she? " 
 
 " It it isn t exactly that," says he. " I ve 
 no doubt she has decided that either Pansy or 
 Violet would make a good wife for me."
 
 172 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 "Pansy and Violet!" says I. "Listens 
 well." 
 
 " Perhaps their names are hardly appropri 
 ate ; but they are nice, sensible, rather attractive 
 young women, both of them," insists Merry. 
 
 " Then why not! " says I. " What s the 
 matter with the Hymen proposition? 
 
 " Oh, it s out of the question," protests J. 
 Meredith, blushin deep. " Really I I ve 
 never thought of marrying anyone. Why, how 
 could I! And besides I shouldn t know how to 
 go about it, proposing, and all that. Oh, I 
 couldn t! You you can t understand. I m 
 such a duffer at most things." 
 
 There s no fake about him bein modest. You 
 could tell that by the way he colored up, even 
 talkin to me. Odd sort of a gink he was, with 
 a lot of queer streaks in him that didn t show 
 on the outside. It was more or less entertain- 
 in , followin up the plot of the piece; but all 
 of a sudden Merry gets over his confidential 
 spasm and shuts up like a clam. 
 
 " Almost time to dress for dinner," says he. 
 " We d best be going in." 
 
 And of course my appearin in the banquet 
 uniform don t give him any serious jolt. 
 
 1 Well, well, Torchy ! says he, as I strolls 
 into the parlor about six-thirty, tryin to for 
 get the points of my dress collar. " How 
 splendid you look !
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 173 
 
 " I had some battle with the tie," says I. 
 " Ain t the bow lopsided? " 
 
 " A mere trifle," says he. " Allow me. 
 There! Really, I m quite proud of you. 
 Aunty 11 be pleased too; for, while she dresses 
 very plainly herself, she likes this sort of thing. 
 You ll see." 
 
 I didn t notice any wild enthusiasm on 
 Aunty s part, though, when she shows up. A 
 lean, wiry old girl, Aunty is, with her white 
 hair bobbed up careless and a big shell comb 
 stickin up bristly, like a picket fence, on top. 
 There s nothin soft about her chin, or the 
 square-cut mouth, and after she d give me one 
 glance out of them shrewd, squinty eyes I felt 
 like she d taken my number, pedigree, past 
 performances, and cost mark complete. 
 
 " Howdo, young man? " says she, and with 
 out wastin any more breath on me she pikes 
 out to the front door to scout down the drive 
 for the other guests. 
 
 They arrives on the tick of six-forty-five, and 
 inside of three minutes Aunty has shooed us 
 into the dinin room. And, say, the first good 
 look I had at Pansy and Violet I nearly passed 
 away. " Rather large," Merry had described 
 em. Yes, and then some! They wa n t just 
 ordinary fat women; they was a pair of 
 whales, big all over, tall and wide and hefty. 
 They had their weight pretty well placed at
 
 174 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 that; not lumpy or bulgy, you know, but with 
 them expanses of shoulder, and their big, heavy 
 faces well, the picture of slim, narrow-chested 
 Merry Stidler sittin wedged in between the 
 two, like the ham in a lunch counter sandwich, 
 was most too much for me. I swallows a drink 
 of water and chokes over it. 
 
 I expect Merry caught on too. I d never seen 
 him so fussed before. He s makin a brave 
 stab at bein chatty; but I can tell he s doin it 
 all on his nerve. He glances first to the right, 
 and then turns quick to the left; but on both 
 sides he s hemmed in by them two human moun 
 tains. 
 
 They wa n t such bad lookers, either. They 
 has good complexions, kind of pleasant eyes, 
 and calm, comf table ways. But there was so 
 much of em! Honest, when they both leans 
 toward him at once I held my breath, expectin 
 to see him squeezed out like a piece of lead pipe 
 run through a rollin machine. 
 
 Nothin tragic like that happens, though. 
 They don t even crowd him into the soup. But 
 it s an odd sort of a meal, with J. Meredith and 
 the Hibbs sisters doin a draggy three-handed 
 dialogue, while me and Aunty holds down the 
 side lines. And nothin that s said or done gets 
 away from them narrow-set eyes, believe me! 
 
 Looked like something wa n t goin just like 
 she d planned ; for the glances she shoots across
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 175 
 
 the table get sharper and sourer, and fin lly, 
 when the roast is brought in, she whispers to 
 the butler, and the next thing J. Meredith 
 knows, as he glances up from his carvin , he 
 sees James uncorkin a bottle of fizz. Merry 
 almost drops his fork and gawps at Aunty sort 
 of dazed. 
 
 " Meredith," says she, snappy, " go on with 
 your carving ! Young man, I suppose you don t 
 take wine? " 
 
 " N-n-no, Ma am," says I, watchin her turn 
 my glass down. I might have chanced a sip or 
 two, at that; but Aunty has diff rent ideas. 
 
 I notice that J. Meredith seems to shy at the 
 bubbly stuff, as if he was lettin on he hated it. 
 He makes a bluff or two ; but all he does is wet 
 his lips. At that Aunty gives a snort. 
 
 " Meredith," says she, hoistin her hollow- 
 stemmed glass sporty, to our guests ! 
 
 II Ah, to be sure," says Merry, and puts his 
 nose into the sparkles in dead earnest. 
 
 Somehow the table chat livens up a lot soon 
 after that. It was one of the Miss Hibbs askin* 
 him something about life abroad that starts 
 Merry off. He begins tellin about Budapest 
 and Vienna and a lot more of them guidebook 
 spots, and how comf table you can live there, 
 and the music, and the cafes, and the sights, 
 gettin real enthusiastic over it, until one of 
 the sisters breaks in with:
 
 176 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 * Think of that, Pansy ! If we could only do 
 such things ! 
 
 11 But why not? " says Merry. 
 
 " Two women alone? " says a Miss Hibbs. 
 
 " True," says J. Meredith. " One needs an 
 escort." 
 
 * Ah-h-h-h, yes ! sighs Violet. 
 
 1 1 Ah-h-h, yes ! echoes Pansy. 
 
 " James," puts in Aunty just then, " fill 
 Mr. Stidler s glass." 
 
 Merry wa n t shyin it any more. He insists 
 on clickin rims with the Hibbs sisters, and they 
 does it real kittenish. Merry stops in the mid 
 dle of his salad to unload that old one about 
 the Irishman that the doctor tried to throw a 
 scare into by tellin him if he didn t quit the 
 booze he d go blind within three months. You 
 know when Mike comes back with, " Well, I m 
 an old man, and I m thinkin I ve seen most 
 everything worth while." Pansy and Violet 
 shook until their chairs creaked, and one of em 
 near swallows her napkin tryin to stop the 
 chuckles. 
 
 In all the time I ve known J. Meredith I d 
 never heard him try to spring anything comic 
 before; but havin made such a hit with this one 
 he follows with others, robbin the almanac re 
 gardless. 
 
 " Oh, you deliciously funny man! " gasps 
 Pansy, tappin him playful on the shoulder.
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 177 
 
 Course, it wa n t any cabaret high jinks, you 
 understand. Meredith was just limbered up a 
 little. In the parlor afterwards while we was 
 Jiavin coffee he strings off quite a fancy line 
 of repartee, fin lly allowin himself to be pushed 
 up to the piano, where he ripples through a few 
 things from Bach and Beethoven and Percy 
 Moore. It s near eleven o clock when the Hibbs 
 sisters get their wraps on and Merry starts to 
 walk home with em. 
 
 11 You might wait for me, Torchy," says he, 
 pausin at the door. 
 
 " Nonsense! " says Aunt Emma Jane. 
 
 " Time young people were in bed. Good night, 
 young man." 
 
 There don t seem to be any chance for a de 
 bate on the subject; so I goes up to my room. 
 But it s a peach of a night, warm and moony; so 
 after I turns out the light I camps down on the 
 windowseat and gazes out over the shrub ry to 
 wards the water. I could see the top of the 
 Hibbs house and a little wharf down on the 
 shore. 
 
 I don t know whether it was the moonlight or 
 the coffee; but I didn t feel any more like bed 
 than I did like breakfast. Pretty soon I hears 
 Merry come tiptoein in and open his door, 
 which was next to mine. I was go in to hail 
 him .and give him a little josh about disposin 
 of the sisters so quick; but I didn t hear him
 
 178 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 stirrin around any more until a few minutes 
 later, when it sounds as if he d tiptoed down 
 stairs again. But I wa n t sure. Nothin doin 
 for some time after that. And you know how 
 quiet the country can be on a still, moonshiny 
 night. 
 
 I was gettin dopy from it, and was startin 
 to shed my collar and tie, when off from a dis 
 tance, somewhere out in the night, music breaks 
 loose. I couldn t tell whether it was a cornet 
 or a trombone; but it s something like that. 
 Seems to come from down along the waterfront. 
 And, say, it sounds kind of weird, hearin it at 
 night that way. Took me sometime to place 
 the tune; but I fin lly makes it out as that good 
 old mush favorite, " Promise Me." It was 
 bein well done too, with long quavers on the 
 high notes and the low ones comin out round 
 and deep. Honest, that was some playin . I 
 was wide awake once more, leanin out over the 
 sill and takin it all in, when a window on the 
 floor below goes up and out bobs a white head. 
 It s Aunty. She looks up and spots me too. 
 
 ". Quite some concert, eh? " says I. 
 
 " Is that you, young man? " says she. 
 
 "Uh-huh," says I. " Just takin in the 
 music. 
 
 " Humph! " says she. " I believe it s that 
 fool nephew of mine." 
 
 " Not Merry? " says I.
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 179 
 
 " It must be," says she. " And goodness 
 knows why he s out making an idiot of himself 
 at this time of night! He ll arouse the whole 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 " Why, I was just thinkin how classy it 
 was," says I. 
 
 "Bah!" says Aunty. "A lot you know 
 about it. Are you dressed, young man? 
 
 I admits that I am. 
 
 " Then I wish you d go down there and see 
 if it is Merry, says she. " If it is, tell him I 
 say to come home and go to bed." 
 
 " And if it ain t! " says I. 
 
 " Go along and see," says she. 
 
 I begun to be sorry for Merry. I d rather 
 pay board than live with a disposition like 
 that. Down I pikes, out the front door and back 
 through the shrub ry. Meantime the musician 
 has finished " Promise Me " and has switched 
 to " Annie Laurie." It s easy enough to get 
 the gen ral direction the sound comes from; 
 but I couldn t place it exact. First off I thought 
 it must be from a little summer house down 
 by the shore; but it wa n t. I couldn t see any 
 one around the grounds. Out on the far end 
 of the Hibbs s wharf, though, there was some- 
 thin dark. And a swell time I had too, buttin 
 my way through a five-foot hedge and landin 
 in a veg table garden. But I wades through to 
 matoes and lettuce until I strikes a gravel path,
 
 180 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 and in a couple of minutes I m out on the dock 
 just as the soloist is hittin up " Believe Me, if 
 All Those Endearing Young Charms." Aunty 
 had the correct dope. It s Merry, all right. 
 The first glimpse he gets of me he starts guilty 
 and tries to hide the cornet under the tails of his 
 dress coat. 
 
 " No use, Merry," says I. " You re pinched 
 with the poultry." 
 
 " Wha-a-at! " says he. " Oh, it s you, is it, 
 Torchy? Please please don t mention this to 
 my aunt." 
 
 " She beat me to it," says I. "It was her 
 sent me out after you with a stop order. She 
 says for you to chop the nocturne and go back 
 to the hay." 
 
 " But how did she Oh, dear! " he sighs. 
 
 " It was all her fault, anyway." 
 
 " I don t follow you," says I. " But what 
 was it, a serenade? " 
 
 " Goodness, no! : gasps J. Meredith. 
 " Who suggested that? " 
 
 " Why, it has all the earmarks of one," says 
 I. " What else would you be doin , out playin 
 the cornet by moonlight on the dock, if you 
 wa n t serenadin someone! 
 
 " But I wasn t, truly," he protests. " It it 
 was the champagne, you know." 
 
 " Eh? " says I. " You don t mean to say 
 you got stewed? Not on a couple of glasses! "
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 181 
 
 " Well, not exactly," says he. " But I can t 
 take wine. I hardly ever do. It it goes to my 
 head always. And tonight well, I couldn t de 
 cline. You saw. Then afterward oh, I felt so 
 buoyant, so full of life, that I couldn t go to 
 sleep. I simply had to do something to let off 
 steam. I wanted to play the cornet. So I came 
 out here, as far away from anyone as I could 
 get." 
 
 " Too thin, Merry," says I. " That might 
 pass with me; but with strangers you d get the 
 laugh. 
 
 " But it s true," he goes on. " And I didn t 
 dream anyone could hear me from here." 
 
 Why, you boob, says I, they could hear 
 you a mile off ! " 
 
 " Beally? " says he. " But you don t sup 
 pose Vio I mean, the Misses Hibbs could hear, 
 do you? " 
 
 " Unless it s their habit to putty up their 
 ears at night," says I. 
 
 " But but what will they think? " he gasps 
 breathless. 
 
 11 That they re bein serenaded by some 
 admirin friend," says I. " What s your 
 guess? " 
 
 11 Oh oh! " says Merry, slumpin down on 
 a settee. " I I had not thought of that." 
 
 1 Ah, buck up ! " say I. * Maybe you can 
 fake an alibi in the mornin . Anyway, you
 
 182 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 can t spend the night here. You got to report 
 to Aunty." 
 
 He lets out another groan, and then gets on 
 his feet. " There s a path through the bushes 
 along here somewhere," says he. 
 
 " No more cross country work-in full dress 
 clothes for me," says I. " We ll sneak down 
 the Hibbs s drive where the goin s easy." 
 
 We was doin it real sleuthy too, keepin on 
 the lawn and dodgin from shadow to shadow, 
 when just as we re passin the house Merry 
 has to stub his toe and drop his blamed cornet 
 with a bang. 
 
 Then out from a second story window floats a 
 voice: " Who is that, please? 
 
 Merry nudges me in the ribs. " Tell them 
 it s you," he whispers. 
 
 " Why, it s it s me Torchy," says I re 
 luctant. 
 
 "Oh! Ah! " says a couple of voices in 
 chorus. Then one of em goes on, The young 
 man who is visiting dear Meredith? 
 
 " Yep," says I. " Same one." 
 
 " But it wasn t you playing the cornet so 
 beautifully, was it? " comes coaxin from the 
 window. 
 
 " Tell them yes," whispers Merry, nudgin 
 violent. 
 
 " Gwan! " I whispers back. "I m in bad 
 enough as it is." With that I speaks up before
 
 MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT 183 
 
 he can stop me, " Not much! " says I. " That 
 was dear Meredith himself." 
 
 " Oh-oh! " says the voices together. Then 
 there s whisperin between em. One seems 
 urgin the other on to something, and at last it 
 comes out. " Young man," says the voice, 
 smooth and persuadin , " please tell us who 
 that is which one of us was the serenade in 
 tended for! " 
 
 This brings the deepest groan of all from J. 
 Meredith. 
 
 " Come on, now," says I, hoarse and low in 
 his ear. " It s up to you. Which? " 
 
 " Oh, really," he whispers back, " I I 
 can t! " 
 
 " You got to, and quick," says I. " Come 
 now, was it Pansy? " 
 
 " No, no! " says he, gaspy. 
 
 1 Huh!" says I. "Then Violet gets the 
 decision," And I holds him off by main 
 strength while I calls out, Why, ain t you on 
 yet? It was for Violet, of course." 
 
 * Ah-h-h-h ! Thank you. Good night, comes 
 a voice no chorus this time : just one and the 
 window is shut. 
 
 " There you are, Merry," says I. " It s all 
 over. You re as good as booked for life." 
 
 He was game about it, though, Merry was. 
 He squares it with Aunty before goin to bed, 
 and right after breakfast next mornin he
 
 184 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 marches over to the Hibbses real business-like. 
 Half an hour later I saw him strollin out on 
 the wharf with one of the big sisters, and I knew 
 it must be Violet. It was his busy day; so I 
 says nothin to anybody, but fades. 
 
 And you should have seen the jaunty, beam- 
 in J. Meredith that swings into the Corrugated 
 Monday mornin . He stops at the gate to give 
 me a fraternal grip. 
 
 "It s all right, Torchy," says he. " She 
 she ll have me Violet, you know. And we are 
 to live abroad. We sail in less than a month." 
 
 " But what about Pansy? " says I. 
 
 " Oh, she s coming with us, of course," says 
 he. " Really, they re both charming girls." 
 
 " Huh! " says I. " That s where you were 
 when I found you. You re past that point, 
 remember. 
 
 " Yes, I know," says he. " It was you helped 
 me too, and I wish in some way I could show 
 my- -" 
 
 * You can, says I. * Leave me the cornet. 
 I might need it some day myself."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 
 
 IT S a shame the way some of these popular 
 clubmen is bothered with business. Here was 
 Mr. Robert, only the other day, with an impor 
 tant four-cue match to be played off between 
 four-thirty and dinnertime; and what does the 
 manager of our Chicago branch have to do but 
 go and muss up the schedule by wirin in that 
 he might have to call for headquarters advice 
 on that Burlington order maybe after closin* 
 time. 
 
 " Oh, pshaw! " remarks Mr. Robert, after 
 he s read the message. 
 
 " The simp ! " says I. " Guess he thinks the 
 Corrugated gen ral offices runs night and day 
 shifts, don t he? " 
 
 11 Very well put," says Mr. Robert. " Still, 
 it means rather a big contract. But, you see, the 
 fellows are counting on me for this match, and if 
 
 I should Oh, but I say, Torchy, he breaks 
 
 off sudden, " perhaps you have no very impor 
 tant engagement for the early evening? " 
 
 " Me? " says I. " Nothing I couldn t 
 
 185
 
 186 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 scratch. I can shoot a little pool too ; but when 
 it comes to balk line billiards I expect I d be a 
 dub among your crowd. 
 
 11 Refreshing modesty! " says Mr. Robert. 
 " What I had in mind, however, was that you 
 might wait here for the message from Nixon, 
 while I attend to the match." 
 
 " Oh, any way you choose," says I. " Sure 
 I ll stay." 
 
 " Thanks," says he. " You needn t wait 
 longer than seven, and if it comes in you can 
 get me on the phone and No, it will be 
 in code; so you d best bring it over." 
 
 And it wa n t so much of a wait, after all, 
 not more n an hour; for at six-fifteen I ve been 
 over to the club, had Mr. Robert called from the 
 billiard room, got him to fix up his answer, and 
 am pikin out the front door with it when he 
 holds me up to add just one more word. Maybe 
 we was some conspicuous from Fifth-ave., him 
 bein still in his shirt sleeves and the steps bein 
 more or less brilliant. 
 
 Anyway, I d made another start and was just 
 gettin well under way, when alongside scuffs 
 this hollow-eyed object with the mangy whiskers 
 and the mixed-ale breath. 
 
 " Excuse me, young feller," says he, 
 "but " 
 
 11 Ah, flutter by, idle one! " says I. "I m 
 no soup ticket."
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 187 
 
 * But just a word, my friend, he insists. 
 
 " Save your breath," says I, " and have it 
 redistilled. It s worth it." 
 
 " Thanks," he puffs out as he shuffles along 
 at my elbow; " but but wasn t that Bob Ellins 
 you were just talking to? " 
 
 11 Eh! " says I, glancin at him some aston 
 ished; for a seedier specimen you couldn t find 
 up and down the avenue. What do you know 
 about him, if it was? " 
 
 11 More than his name," says the wreck. 
 11 He he s an old friend of mine." 
 
 " Oh, of course," says I. " Anyone could 
 tell that at a glimpse. I expect you used to 
 belong to the same club too? " 
 
 " Is old Barney still on the door? " says he. 
 
 And, say, he had the right dope on that. Not 
 three minutes before I d heard Mr. Robert call 
 the old gink by name. But that hardly proved 
 the case. 
 
 " Clever work," says I. " What was it you 
 used to do there, take out the ashes." 
 
 " I don t wonder you think so," says he; 
 " but it s a fact that Bob and I are old 
 friends." 
 
 " Why don t you tackle him, then," says I, 
 11 instead of botherin a busy man like me? Go 
 back and call him out." 
 
 " I haven t the face," says he. " Look at 
 me! "
 
 188 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 " I have," says I, " and, if you ask 
 me, you look like something the cat brought 
 in." 
 
 He winces a little at that. " Don t tell Bob 
 how bad it was, then," says he. " Just say 
 you let me have a fiver for him." 
 
 " Five bucks ! " says I. " Say, I m Mr. Kob- 
 ert s office boy, not his bank account." 
 
 " Two, then? " he goes on. 
 
 " My, but I must have the boob mark on me 
 plain! " says I. 
 
 " Couldn t you spare a half," he urges, " just 
 a half, to get me a little something to eat, and 
 a drink, and pay for a bed? " 
 
 Oh, sure ! says I. * I carry a pocketful 
 of halves to shove out to all the bums that pre 
 sents their business cards." 
 
 " But Bob would give it back to you," he 
 pleads. " I swear he would! Just tell him 
 you gave it to to " 
 
 11 Well? " says I. " Algernon who? " 
 
 " Tell him it was for Melville Slater," says 
 he. "He 11 know." 
 
 " Melly Slater, eh? " says I. " Sounds all 
 right. But I d have to chew it over first, even 
 for a half. I have chances of gettin stung like 
 this about four times a day, Melly. And, any 
 way, I got to file a message first, over at the 
 next corner." 
 
 " I ll wait outside," says he.
 
 p. F06TEB UNCOtN 
 
 "AH, FLUTTER BY, ILLE ONE!" SAYS I.
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 189 
 
 " That s nice of you," says I. " It ain t any 
 cinch you ll connect, though." 
 
 But as I dashes into a hotel where there s a 
 blue sign out he leans up against a window 
 gratin , sort of limp and exhausted, and it looks 
 like he means to take a sportin chance. 
 
 How you goin to tell, anyway? Most of em 
 say they ve been thrown out of work by the 
 trusts, but that they ve heard of a job in New 
 ark, or Bridgeport, or somewhere, which they 
 could get if they could only rustle enough coin 
 to pay the fare. And they ll add interestin de 
 tails about havin a sick wife, or maybe four 
 hungry kids, and so on. 
 
 But this rusty bunch of works has a new 
 variation. He s an old friend of the boss. 
 Maybe it was partly so too. If it was well, I 
 got to thinkin that over while the operator was 
 countin the words, and so the next thing I does 
 is to walk over to the telephone queen and have 
 her call up Mr. Eobert. 
 
 * Well ? says he, impatient. 
 
 " It s Torchy again," says I. " I ve filed 
 the message, all right. But, say, there s a piece 
 of human junk that I collected from in front 
 of the club who s tryin to panhandle me for a 
 half on the strength of bein an old chum 
 of yours. He says his name s Melville 
 Slater." 
 
 "Wha-a-at!" gasps Mr. Eobert. " Melly
 
 190 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Slater, trying to borrow half a dollar from 
 you? " 
 
 " There s no doubt about his needin it," says 
 I. " My guess is that a half would be a life 
 saver to him just now." 
 
 " Why, it doesn t seem possible!! " says Mr. 
 Robert. " Of course, I haven t seen Melly re 
 cently; but I can t imagine how Did you 
 
 say he was still there? " 
 
 " Hung up on the rail outside, if the cop ain t 
 shooed him off," says I. 
 
 " Then keep him there until I come," says 
 Mr. Robert. " If it s Melly, I must come. I ll 
 be right over. But don t say a word to him 
 until I get there." 
 
 11 Got you," says I. " Hold Melly and keep 
 mum. 
 
 I could pipe him off through the swing door 
 vestibule; and, honest, from the lifeless way 
 he s propped up there, one arm hangin loose, 
 his head to one side, and that white, pasty look 
 to his nose and forehead well, I didn t know 
 but he d croaked on the spot. So I slips 
 through the cafe exit and chases along the side 
 street until I meets Mr. Robert, who s pikin 
 over full tilt. 
 
 " You re sure it s Melly Slater, are you? 
 says he. 
 
 "I m only sure that s what he said," says I.
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 191 
 
 " But you can settle that soon enough. There 
 he is, over there by the window." 
 
 "Why!" says Mr. Kobert. "That can 
 never be Melly; that is, unless he s changed 
 wonderfully." With that he marches up and 
 taps the object on the shoulder. " I say," says 
 he, " you re not really Melly Slater, are you? " 
 
 There s a quick shiver runs through the man 
 against the rail, and he lifts his eyes up cring- 
 in , like he expected to be hit with a club. Mr. 
 Robert takes one look, and it almost staggers 
 him. Next he reaches out, gets a firm grip on 
 the gent s collar, and drags him out into a better 
 light, twistin the whiskered face up for a close 
 inspection. 
 
 " Blashford ! " says he, hissin it out unpleas 
 ant. " Bunny Blashford! " 
 
 " No, no! " says the gent, tryin to squirm 
 away. " You you ve made a mistake." 
 
 " Not much! " says Mr. Robert. " I know 
 those sneaking eyes of yours too well." 
 
 " All right," says he; " but but don t hit 
 me, Bob. Don t." 
 
 " You you cur! " says Mr. Robert, holdin 
 him at arm s length and glarin at him hostile. 
 
 " A ringer, eh? " says I. 
 
 " Worse than that," says Mr. Robert, " a 
 sneaking, contemptible hound! Trying to pass 
 yourself off for Melly, were you? " he goes on. 
 " Of all men, Melly! What for! "
 
 192 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " I I didn t want you to know I was back," 
 whines Bunny. " And I had to get money some 
 how, Bob honest, I did." 
 
 "Bah!" says Mr. Robert. " You- 
 you 
 
 But he ain t got any such vocabulary as old 
 Hickory Ellins has; so here, when he needs it 
 most, all he can do is express his deep disgust 
 by shakin this Bunny party like a new hired 
 girl dustin a rug. He jerks him this way and 
 that so reckless that I was afraid he d rattle 
 him apart, and when he fin lly lets loose Bunny 
 goes all in a heap on the sidewalk. I d never 
 seen Mr. Robert get real wrathy before; but 
 it s all over in a minute, and he glances around 
 like he was ashamed. 
 
 " Hang it all! " says he, gazin at the wreck. 
 " I didn t mean to lay my hands on him." 
 
 11 He s in punk condition," says I. " What s 
 to be done, call an ambulance I 
 
 That jars Mr. Robert a lot. I expect he was 
 so worked up he didn t know how rough he was 
 handlin him, and my suggestin that he s quali 
 fied Bunny for a cot sobers him down in a min 
 ute. Next thing I knows he s kneelin over the 
 Blashford gent and liftin his head up. 
 
 " Here, what s the matter with you? " says 
 Mr. Robert. 
 
 " Don t! Don t strike me again," moans 
 Bunny, cringin .
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 193 
 
 " No, no, I m not going to," says Mr. Robert. 
 1 i And I apologize for shaking you. But what 
 ails you? " 
 
 " I I m all in," says Bunny, beginnin to 
 sniffle. " Don t don t beat me! I I m going 
 to die; but but not here, like like this. I I 
 don t want to live; but but I don t want to 
 finish this way, like a rat. Help me, Bob, to 
 to finish decent. I know I don t deserve it from 
 you; but but you wouldn t want to see me go 
 like this dirty and ragged? I I want to die 
 clean and and well dressed. Please, Bob, for 
 old time s sake? " 
 
 " Nonsense, man!" says Mr. Robert. 
 t( You re not going to die now." 
 
 " Yes, I am, Bob," says Bunny. " I I can 
 tell. I want to, anyway. I I m no good. And 
 I m in rotten shape. Drink, you know, and I ve 
 a bad heart. I m near starved too. It s been 
 days since I ve eaten anything days! 
 
 "By George!" says Mr. Robert. " Then 
 you must have something to eat. Here, let me 
 help you up. Torchy, you take the other side. 
 Steady, now ! I didn t know you were in such a 
 condition; really, I didn t. And we ll get you 
 filled up right away." 
 
 " I I couldn t eat," says Bunny. " I don t 
 want anything. I just want to quit only not 
 like this ; but clean, Bob, clean and dressed de 
 cent once more."
 
 194 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 Say, maybe you can guess about how cheerin 
 it was, hearin him say that over and over in 
 that whiny, tremblin voice of his, watchin* 
 them shifty, deep-set eyes glisten glassy under 
 the light. About as comfortin a sight, he was, 
 as a sick dog in a corner. And of all the rummy 
 ideas to get in his nut that about bein 
 dressed up to die! But he keeps harpin away 
 on it until fin ly Mr. Eobert takes notice. 
 
 " Yes, yes! " says the boss. " "We ll attend 
 to that, old man. But you need some nourish 
 ment in you first." 
 
 So we drags him over to the opposite corner, 
 where there s a drugstore, and got a glass of hot 
 milk under his vest. Then I calls a taxi, and we 
 all starts for the nearest Turkish bath joint. 
 
 " That s all, Torchy," says Mr. Eobert. " I 
 won t bother you any more with this wretched 
 business. You d best go now." 
 
 " Suppose something happens to him? " says 
 I. " You ll need a witness, won t you? " 
 
 " I hadn t thought of that," says he. 
 
 " There s no tellin ," says I. " Them coron 
 ers deputies are mostly boneheads. I d better 
 stay on the job." 
 
 " I know of no one I d rather have, Torchy," 
 says he. 
 
 Course, he was stretchin* it there. But we 
 fixes it up that while Bunny is bein soaked out 
 I ll have time to pluck some eats. Meanwhile
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 195 
 
 Mr. Robert will phone his man to dig out one 
 of his old dress suits, with fmn s, which I m 
 to collect and have waitin for Blashford. 
 
 11 Better have him barbered some too, hadn t 
 If " says I. 
 
 " A lot," says Mr. Eobert, slippin me a cou 
 ple of tens for expenses. " And when he s all 
 ready call me at the club." 
 
 So, take it all around, I has quite some busy 
 evenin . I stayed long enough to see Bunny 
 wrapped in a sheet and helped into the steam- 
 room, and then I hustles out for a late dinner. 
 It s near nine-thirty before I rings Mr. Eobert 
 up again, and reports that Bunny would pass 
 a Board of Health inspection now that he s had 
 the face herbage removed, that he s costumed 
 proper and correct, and that he s decided not 
 to die immediate. 
 
 " Very well," says Mr. Robert. " What does 
 he want to do now! " 
 
 " He wants to talk to you," says I. 
 
 " The deuce he does!" says Mr. Robert. 
 11 Well, I suppose we might as well have it out; 
 so bring him up here." 
 
 That s how it happens I m rung in on this 
 little club corner chat ; for Mr. Robert explains 
 that whatever passes between em it might be 
 as well to have someone else hear. 
 
 And, say, what a diff rence a little outside 
 upholstery can make, ehT The steamin out had
 
 196 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 helped some, I expect, and a couple more glasses 
 of hot milk had braced him up too ; but blamed 
 if I d expect just a shave and a few open-face 
 clothes could change a human ruin into such 
 a perky lookin gent as this that leans back 
 graceful against the leather cushions and lights 
 up one of Mr. Kobert s imported cigarettes. 
 Course, the eye hollows hadn t been filled in, 
 nor the face wrinkles ironed out; but somehow 
 they only gives him a sort of a distinguished look. 
 And now that his shoulders ain t slumped, and 
 he s holdin his chin up once more, he s almost 
 ornamental. He don t even seem embarrassed 
 at meetin Mr. Robert again. If anyone was 
 fussed, it was the boss. 
 
 " Well? " says he, as we gets settled in the 
 cozy corner. 
 
 " Seems natural as life here; eh, Bob! " says 
 Bunny, glancin around approvin . " And it s 
 nearly four years since I er 
 
 " Since you were kicked out," adds Mr. Eob- 
 ert. " See here, Bunny just because I ve 
 helped you out of the gutter when I thought you 
 were half dead, don t run away with the idea 
 that I ve either forgotten or forgiven! 
 
 ei Oh, quite so," says he. "I m not asking 
 that." 
 
 " Then you ve no excuse," goes on Mr. Rob 
 ert, " for the sneaking, cowardly way in which 
 you left little Sally Slater waiting in her bridal
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 197 
 
 gown, the house full of wedding guests, while 
 you ran off with that unspeakable DeBrett per 
 son? " 
 
 " No," says Bunny, flippin his cigarette 
 ashes off jaunty, " no excuse worthy of the 
 name." 
 
 " Cad! " says Mr. Robert. 
 
 Bunny shrugs his shoulders. " Precisely," 
 says he. " But you are not making the dis 
 covery for the first time, are you? You knew 
 Sally was far too good for me. Everyone did, 
 even Brother Melly. It couldn t have been 
 much of a secret to either of you how deep I 
 was with the DeBrett too. Yet you wanted me 
 to go on with Sally. Why? Because the gov 
 ernor hadn t chucked me overboard then, be 
 cause I could still keep up a front? " 
 
 " You might have taken a brace," says Mr. 
 Robert. 
 
 Not I ! " says Bunny. Anyway, not after 
 Trixie DeBrett got hold of me. The trouble 
 was, Bob, you didn t half appreciate her. She 
 had beauty, brains, wit, a thousand fascina 
 tions, and no more soul than a she boa con 
 strictor. I was just a rabbit to her, a meal. 
 She thought the governor would buy her off, 
 say, for a couple hundred thousand or so. I 
 suppose he would too, if it hadn t been for the 
 Sally complication. He thought a lot of little 
 Sally. And the way it happened was too raw.
 
 198 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 I don t blame him, mind you, nor any of you. 
 I don t even blame Trixie. That was her game. 
 And, by Jove ! she was a star at it. I d go back 
 to her now if she d let me." 
 
 " You re a fool! " snorts Mr. Robert. 
 
 " Always was, my dear Bob," says Bunny 
 placid. " You often told me as much." 
 
 " But I didn t think," goes on Mr. Robert, 
 " you d get as low as as tonight begging! 
 
 11 Quite respectable for me, I assure you," 
 says Bunny. * Why, my dear fellow, during the 
 last few years there s been hardly a crime on 
 the calendar I shouldn t have committed for a 
 dollar barring murder, of course. That re 
 quires nerve. How long do you suppose the few 
 thousands I got from Aunt Eunice lasted? 
 Barely six months. I thought I knew how to 
 live rather luxuriously myself. But Trixie! 
 Well, she taught me. And we were in Paris, you 
 know. I didn t cable the governor until I was 
 down to my last hundred-franc note. His reply 
 was something of a stinger. I showed it to 
 Trixie. She just laughed and went out for a 
 drive. She didn t come back. I hear she picked 
 up a brewer s son at Monte Carlo. Lucky devil, 
 he was ! 
 
 " And I? What would you expect? In less 
 than two weeks I was a stowaway on a French 
 liner. They routed me out and set me to stok 
 ing. I couldn t stand that, of course; so they
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 199 
 
 put me to work in the kitchens, cleaning pots, 
 dumping garbage, waiting on the crew. I had 
 to make the round trip too. Then I jumped the 
 stinking craft, only to get a worse berth on a 
 P. & 0. liner. I worked with Chinese, Lascars, 
 coolies, the scum of the earth; worked and ate 
 and slept and fought with them. I crawled 
 ashore and deserted in strange ports. I think 
 it was at Aden where I came nearest to starv 
 ing the first time. And I remember the docks 
 at Alexandria. Sometimes the tourists threw 
 down coppers for the Arab and Berber boys to 
 scrabble for. It s a pleasant custom. I was 
 there, in that scrabbling, cursing, clawing rab 
 ble. And when I d had a good day I spent 
 my coppers royally in a native dance-hall 
 which even guides don t dare show to the 
 trippers. 
 
 " Eespectability, my dear Bob, is all a mat 
 ter of comparison. I acquired a lot of new 
 standards. As a second cabin steward on a 
 Brazos liner I became quite haughty. Poverty ! 
 You don t know what it means until you ve 
 rubbed elbows with it in the Far East and the 
 Far South. Here you have the Bowery Mission 
 bread line. That s a fair sample, Bob, of our 
 American opulence. Free bread I ; 
 
 " So you ve been in that, have you! " asks 
 Mr. Eobert. 
 
 " Have If " says Bunny. "I ve pals down
 
 200 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 there tonight who will wonder what has be 
 come of me." 
 
 Mr. Robert shudders. And, say, it made me 
 feel chilly along the spine too. 
 
 " Well, what now? " says Mr. Robert. " I 
 suppose you expect me to find you some sort 
 of work? " 
 
 " Not at all," says Bunny. " Another of 
 those cigarettes, if you don t mind. Excellent 
 brand. Thanks. But work? How inconsider 
 ate, Bob! I wasn t born to be useful. You 
 know that well enough. No, work doesn t ap 
 peal to me." 
 
 Mr. Robert flushes up at that. " Then," says 
 he, pointin stern, " there s the door." 
 
 " Oh, what s the hurry? says Bunny. 
 " This is heaven to me, all this, the old club, 
 you know, and good tobacco, and say, Bob, if I 
 might suggest, a pint of that 85 vintage would 
 add just the finishing touch. Come, I haven t 
 tasted a glass of fizz since well, I ve forgotten. 
 Just for auld lang syne ! 
 
 Mr. Robert gasps, hesitates a second, and 
 then pushes the button. Bunny inspects the 
 label critical when it s brought in, waves grace 
 ful to Mr. Robert, and slides the bottle back 
 tender into the cooler. 
 
 " Ah-h-h! " says he. " And doesn t Henri 
 have any more of those dainty little caviar 
 canapes on hand? They go well with fizz."
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 201 
 
 " Canapes," says Mr. Eobert to the waiter. 
 " And another box of those gold-tipped Rus 
 sians." 
 
 " A vous! " says Bunny, raisin a glassful of 
 bubbles and salutin . " I m as thirsty as a 
 camel driver." 
 
 " But what I d like to know," says Mr. Eob 
 ert, " is what you propose doing." 
 
 " You, my dear fellow," says Bunny, settin* 
 down the glass. 
 
 " Truly enterprising! " says Mr. Eobert. 
 11 But you re going to be disappointed. In 
 just ten minutes I mean to escort you to the 1 
 sidewalk, and then wash my hands of you for 
 good." 
 
 Bunny laughs. " Impossible! " says he. 
 " In the first place, you couldn t sleep tonight, 
 if you did. Secondly, I should hunt you up to 
 morrow and make a nuisance of myself." 
 
 " You d be thrown out by a porter," says Mr. 
 Eobert. 
 
 " Perhaps," says he; " but it wouldn t look 
 nice. I d be in evening clothes, you see. The- 
 crowd would know at once that I was a gentle 
 man. Reporters would come. I should tell a 
 most harrowing tale. You d deny it, of course; 
 but half the people would believe me. No, no, 
 Bob! Three hours ago, in my old rags, you 
 might have kicked me into the gutter, and no- 
 one would have made any fuss at all. But now !
 
 202 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Why, it would be absurd! I should make a 
 mighty row over it." 
 
 11 You threaten blackmail? " says Mr. Rob 
 ert, leanin towards him savage. 
 
 " That is one of my more reputable accom 
 plishments," says Bunny. " But why force me 
 to that? I have quite a reasonable proposal 
 to submit." 
 
 "If it has anything to do with getting you 
 so far away from New York that you ll never 
 come back, I ll listen to it," says Mr. Robert. 
 
 " You state the case exactly," says Bunny. 
 * In Paris I got to know a chap by the name of 
 Dick Langdon; English, you know, and a 
 younger son. His uncle s a Sir Something or 
 Other. Dick was going the pace. He d annexed 
 some funds that he d found lying around loose. 
 Purely a family affair; no prosecution. A nice 
 youth, Langdon. We were quite congenial. 
 
 " A year or so ago I ran across him again, 
 down in Santa Marta. He was wearing a sun 
 helmet and a white linen suit. He said he d 
 been shipped down there as superintendent of a 
 banana plantation about twenty miles back from 
 the port. He had half a hundred blacks and as 
 many East Indian coolies under him. There 
 was no one else within miles. Once a month 
 he got down to see the steamer load and watch 
 the white faces hungrily. I was only a cabin 
 steward leaning over the rail; but he was so
 
 THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY 203 
 
 tickled to see me that he begged me to quit and 
 go back to the plantation with him. He said 
 he d make me assistant superintendent, or per 
 manent guest, or anything. But I was crazy 
 to see New York once more. I wouldn t listen. 
 Well, I ve seen New York, seen enough of it to 
 last a lifetime. What do you say? 
 
 11 When could you get a steamer? " asks Mr. 
 Eobert. 
 
 " The Arapequa sails at ten in the morning," 
 says Bunny eager. " Fare forty-eight dollars 
 one way. I could go aboard now. Dick would 
 hail me as a man and a brother. I m his kind. 
 He d see that I never had money enough to get 
 away. I think I might possibly earn my keep 
 bossing coolies too. And the pulque down there 
 helps you to forget your troubles." 
 
 " Torchy," says Mr. Eobert, " ask Barney to 
 call a cab." 
 
 " And, by the way," Bunny is sayin as I 
 come back, you might chuck in a business suit 
 and a few white flannels into a grip, Bob. You 
 wouldn t want me to arrive in South America 
 dressed like this, would you? " 
 
 " Very well," says Mr. Robert. " But what 
 I m most concerned about is that you do arrive 
 there." 
 
 " But how do you know, Mr. Robert," says 
 I next mornin , " that he will? "
 
 204 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 11 Because I locked him in his stateroom my 
 self," says he, " and bribed a steward not to 
 let him out until he could see Barnegat light 
 over the stern." 
 
 " Gee ! " says I. " That s one way of losin a 
 better days proposition. And in case any 
 others like him turns up, Mr. Robert, have you 
 got any more old dress suits? " 
 
 " If I have," says he, " I shall burn them."
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 \ 
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOB TOECHY 
 
 I LL say this for Aunty: She s doin her best. 
 About all she s omitted is lockin Vee in a safety 
 deposit vault and forgettin the combination. 
 
 Say, you d most think I was as catchin as a 
 case of measles. I wish it was so; for once in 
 awhile, in spite of Aunty, Vee gets exposed. 
 That s all the good it does, though. What s 
 a few minutes chat with the only girl that ever 
 was? It s a wonder we don t have to be 
 introduced all over again. That would be the 
 case with some girls. But Vee! Say, lemme 
 put you wise Vee s diff rent! Uh-huh,! I 
 found that out all by myself. I don t know just 
 where it comes in, or how, but she is. 
 
 All of which makes it just so much worse 
 when she and Aunty does the summer flit. 
 Course, I saw it comin way back early in June, 
 and then the first thing I know they re gone. 
 I gets a bulletin now and then, Lenox, the 
 Pier, Newport, and so on, sometimes from 
 Vee, sometimes by readin the society notes. 
 Must be great to have the papers keep track 
 
 205
 
 206 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 of you, the way they do of Aunty. And it s 
 so comfortin to me, strayin lonesome into a 
 Broadway movie show of a hot evenin , to know 
 that * among the debutantes at a tea dance given 
 in the Casino by Mrs. Percy Bonehead yester 
 day afternoon was Miss Verona Hemmingway." 
 Oh, sure ! Say, how many moves am I from a 
 tea dance me here behind the brass rail at the 
 Corrugated, with Piddie gettin fussy, and Old 
 Hickory jabbin the buzzer? 
 
 And then, just when I m peevish enough to 
 be canned and served with lamb chops, here 
 comes this glad word out of the State of Maine. 
 " It s nice up here," says she; " but awfully 
 stupid. VEE." That s all just a picture post 
 card. But, say, I d have put it in a solid gold 
 frame if there d been one handy. 
 
 As it is, I sticks the card up on the desk in 
 front of me and gazes longin . Some shack, I 
 should judge by the picture, one of these low, 
 wide affairs, all built of cobblestones, with a 
 red tile roof and yellow awnin s. Right on the 
 water too. You can see the waves frothin al 
 most up to the front steps. Roarin Rocks, 
 Maine, is the name of the place printed under 
 neath. 
 
 " Nice, but stupid, eh? " says I confidential 
 to myself. " That s too bad. Wonder if I d be 
 bored to death with a week or so up there? I 
 wonder what she d say if "
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOR TORCHY 207 
 
 B-r-r-r-r! B-r-r-r-r-r ! That s always the 
 way! I just get started on some rosy dream, 
 and I m sailin aloft miles and miles away, when 
 off goes that blamed buzzer, and back I flop 
 into this same old chair behind the same old 
 brass rail! All for what? Why, Mr. Robert 
 wants a tub of desk pins. I gets em from Pid- 
 die, trots in, and slams em down snappy at Mr. 
 Robert s elbow. 
 
 11 Eh? " says he, glancin up startled. 
 
 " Said pins, dintcher? " says I. 
 
 " Why er yes," says he, " I believe I did. 
 Thank you." 
 
 " Huh! " says I, turnin on my heel. 
 
 11 Oh er Torchy! " he adds. 
 
 " Well? " says I over my shoulder. 
 
 " Might one inquire," says he, "is it dis 
 tress, or only disposition? " 
 
 " It ain t the effect of too much fresh air, 
 anyway," says I. 
 
 * Ah ! says he, sort of reflective. l Feel 
 ing the need of a half holiday, are you? " 
 
 Humph ! says I. What s the good of 
 an afternoon off? " 
 
 He d just come back from a two weeks cruise, 
 Mr. Robert had, lookin tanned and husky, and 
 a little later on he was goin off on another 
 jaunt. Course, that s all right, too. I d 
 take em oftener if I was him. But hanged 
 if I d sit there starin puzzled at anyone
 
 208 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 else who couldn t, the way he was doin at 
 me! 
 
 " Mr. Robert/ says I, spunkin up sudden, 
 " what s the matter with me takin a vaca 
 tion? " 
 
 Why, says he, I I presume it might be 
 arranged. When would you wish to gol 
 
 " When? n says I. " Why, now tonight. 
 Say, honest, if I try to stick out the week I ll 
 get to be a grouch nurser, like Piddie. I m 
 sick of the shop, sick of answerin buzzers, 
 sick of everything! : 
 
 It wa n t what you might call a smooth open- 
 in , and from most bosses I expect it would 
 have won me a free pass to all outdoors. But 
 I guess Mr. Robert knows what these balky 
 moods are himself. He only humps his eye 
 brows humorous and chuckles. 
 
 " That s rather abrupt, isn t it? " says he. 
 <i But perhaps er just where is she now, 
 Torchy? " 
 
 I grins back sheepish. " Coast of Maine," 
 says I. 
 
 " Well, well! " says he. " Then you ll need 
 a two weeks advance, at least. There ! Present 
 this to the cashier. And there is a good express, 
 I believe, at eight o clock tonight. Luck to 
 you! " 
 
 " Mr. Robert," says I, choky, " you you re 
 I-double-It with me. Thanks."
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOE TORCHY 209 
 
 " My best regards to Kennebunk, Cape Ned- 
 dick, and Eggemoggen Reach," says he as we 
 swaps grips. 
 
 Say, there s some boss for you, eh? But how 
 he could dope out the symptoms so accurate is 
 what gets me. Anyhow, he had the answer; 
 for I don t stop to consult any vacation guide 
 book or summer tours pamphlet. I beats it for 
 the Grand Central, pushes up to the ticket win 
 dow, and calls for a round trip to Roaring 
 Rocks. 
 
 11 Nothing doing," says the guy. " Give you 
 Bass Rocks, Seal Rocks, or six varieties of 
 Spouting Rocks; but no Roaring ones on the 
 list. Any choice? " 
 
 " Gwan, you fresh Mellen seed! " says I. 
 " You got to have em. It says so on the card," 
 and I shoves the postal at him. 
 
 " Ah, yes, my young ruddy duck," says he. 
 " Postmarked Boothbay Harbor, isn t it? Bath 
 for yours. Change there for steamer. Upper s 
 the best I can do for you drawing rooms all 
 gone. 
 
 " Seein how my private car s bein reup- 
 holstered, I ll chance an upper," says I. " Only 
 don t put any nose trombone artist under 
 neath." 
 
 Yes, I was feelin some gayer than a few 
 hours before. What did I care if the old town 
 was warmin up as we pulls out until it felt like
 
 210 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 a Turkish bath? I was bound north on the map, 
 with my new Norfolk suit and three outing 
 shirts in my bag, a fair-sized wad of spendin 
 kale buttoned into my back pocket, and that card 
 of Vee s stowed away careful. Say, I should 
 worry! And don t they do some breezin along 
 on that Bar Harbor express while you sleep, 
 though? 
 
 " What cute little village is this? " says I 
 to Eastus in the washroom next mornin about 
 six-thirty A. M. 
 
 "Pohtland, Suh," says he. " Breakfast 
 stop, Suh." 
 
 Me for it, then, saj 7 s I. When in Maine 
 be a maniac." So I tackles a plate of pork-and 
 on its native heath; also a hunk of pie. 
 M-m-m-m! They sure can build pie up there! 
 
 It s quite some State, Maine. Bath is several 
 jumps on, and that next joint Say, it wa n t 
 until I d changed to the steamer and was lookin 
 over my ticket that I sees anything familiar 
 about the name. Boothbay! Why, wa n t that 
 the Rube spot this Ira Higgins hailed from? 
 Maybe you remember, Ira, who d come on to 
 see Mr. Robert about buildin a new racin 
 yacht, the tall, freckled gink with a love affair 
 on his mind? Why, sure, this was Ira s Har 
 bor I was headed for. And, say, I didn t feel 
 half so strange about explorin the State after 
 that. For Ira, you know, is a friend of mine.
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOR TORCHY 211 
 
 Havin settled that with myself, I throws out 
 my chest and roams around the decks, climbin 
 every flight of stairs I came to, until I gets to a 
 comfy little coop on the very top where a long 
 guy wearin white suspenders over a blue flan 
 nel shirt is jugglin the steerin wheel. 
 
 " Hello, Cap! " says I. " How s she head- 
 in ? " 
 
 He ain t one of the sociable kind, though. 
 You d most thought, from the reprovin stare 
 he gives me, that he didn t appreciate good 
 comp ny. 
 
 " Can t you read? " says he. 
 
 " Ah, you mean the Keep-Out sign? Sure, 
 Pete," says I; " but I can t see it from in 
 here." 
 
 * * Then git out where you can see it plainer, * 
 says he. 
 
 " Ah, quit your kiddin ! " says I. " That s 
 
 for the common herd, ain t it? Now, I 
 
 Say, if it ll make you feel any better, I ll tell 
 you who I am." 
 
 " Say it quick then," says he. " Are you 
 Woodrow Wilson, or only the Secretary of the 
 Navy? " 
 
 " You re warm," says I. " I m a friend of 
 Ira Higgins of Boothbay Harbor." 
 
 11 Sho! " says he, removin his pipe and be- 
 ginnin to act human. 
 
 " Happen to know Ira? " says I.
 
 212 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 11 Ought to," says he. " First cousins. You 
 from Boston? " 
 
 " Why, Cap! " says I. " What have I ever 
 done to you? Now, honest, do I look like I 
 but I ll forgive you this time. New York, Cap : 
 not Brooklyn, or Staten Island or the Bronx, 
 you know, but straight New York, West 17th-st. 
 And I ve come all this way just to see Mr. 
 Higgins. 
 
 11 Gosh! " says he. " Ira always did have 
 all the luck." 
 
 Next crack he calls me Sorrel Top, and in 
 side of five minutes we was joshin away 
 chummy, me up on a tall stool alongside, and 
 him pointin out all the sights. And, believe 
 me, the State of Maine s got some scenery 
 scattered along the wot edge of it ! Honest, it s 
 nothin but scenery, rocks and trees and water, 
 and water and trees and rocks, and then a few 
 more rocks. 
 
 1 i How about when you hit one of them sharp 
 ones? " says I. 
 
 " Government files a new edge on it," says 
 he. They keep a gang that does nothin else. 
 
 " Think of that! " says I. " I don t see any 
 lobsters floatin around, though." 
 
 " Too late in the day," says he. " Fraid 
 of gittin sunburned. You want to watch for 
 em about daybreak. Millions then. Travel in 
 flocks."
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOR TORCHY 213 
 
 " Ye-e-es? " says I. " All hangin onto a 
 string, I expect. But why the painted posts 
 stickin up out of the water? " 
 
 " Hitchin posts," says he, " for sea 
 bosses." 
 
 Oh, I got a bunch of valuable marine informa 
 tion from him, and when the second mate came 
 up he added a lot more. If I hadn t thought to 
 tell em how there was always snow on the 
 Singer and Woolworth towers, and how the 
 East Side gunmen was on strike to raise the 
 homicide price to three dollars and seventy-five 
 cents, they d had me well Sweeneyed. As it 
 was, I guess we split about even. 
 
 Him findin Boothbay Harbor among all that 
 snarl of islands and channels wa n t any bluff, 
 though. That was the real sleight of hand. As 
 we re comin up to the dock, he points out Ira s 
 boatworks, just on the edge of the town. Half 
 an hour later I ve left my baggage at the hotel 
 and am interviewin Mr. Higgins. 
 
 He s the same old Ira; only he s wearin* 
 blue overalls and a boiled shirt with the sleeves 
 rolled up. 
 
 " Roarin Rocks, eh?" says he. " Why, 
 that s the Hollister place on Gunner Point, 
 about three miles up." 
 
 " Can I get a trolley? " says I. 
 
 " Trolley!" says he. Why, Son, there 
 ain t any lectric cars nearer n Bath."
 
 214 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 Gee, what a jay burg ! says I. * How 
 about a ferry, then? " 
 
 Ira shakes his head. Seems Eoarin Eocks 
 is a private joint, the summer place of this Mr. 
 Hollister who s described by Ira as " richer n 
 Croesus whatever that might mean. Any 
 way, they re exclusive parties that don t en 
 courage callers; for the only way of gettin 
 there is over a private road around the 
 head of the bay, or by hirin a launch to take 
 you up. 
 
 " Generally," says Ira, " they send one of 
 their boats down to meet company. Now, if 
 they was expectin you 
 
 . . 
 
 That s just it," I breaks in, " they ain t. 
 Fact is, Ira, there s a young lady visitin there 
 with her aunt, and and well, Aunty and me 
 ain t so chummy as we might be." 
 
 " Just so," says Ira, noddin wise. 
 
 " Now my plan was to go up there and kind 
 of stick around, you know," says I, " sort of 
 in the shade, until the young lady strolled out." 
 
 Ira shakes his head discouragin . " They re 
 mighty uppish folks," says he. " Got No 
 Trespass signs all over the place dogs too." 
 
 " Hellup ! " says I. " What am I up against? 
 Why don t Aunty travel with a bunch of gum 
 shoe guards and be done with it? 
 
 " Tell you what," says Ira, struck by a stray 
 thought, " if lookin the place over 11 do any
 
 good, you might go out with Eb Westcott this 
 afternoon when he baits. He s got pots all 
 around the point." 
 
 That don t mean such a lot to me; but my 
 middle name is Brodie. " Show me Eb," 
 says I. 
 
 He wa n t any thrillin sight, Eb; mostly rub 
 ber hip boots, flannel shirt, and whiskers. He 
 could have been cleaner. So could his old tub 
 of a lobster boat ; but not while he stuck to that 
 partic lar line of business, I guess. And, say, 
 I know now what baitin is. It s haulin up lob 
 ster pots from the bottom of the ocean and 
 decoratin em inside with fish ripe fish, at 
 that. The scheme is to lure the lobsters into 
 the pot. Seems to work too ; but I guess a lob 
 ster ain t got any sense of smell. 
 
 " Better put on some old clothes fust," ad 
 vised Eb, and as I always like to dress the part 
 I borrows a moldy suit of oilskins from Ira, in- 
 cludin one of these yellow sea bonnets, and 
 climbs aboard. 
 
 It s a one-lunger putt-putt and take it from 
 me the combination of gasolene and last Tues 
 day s fish ain t anything like Eau d Espagne! 
 Quite different! Also I don t care for that 
 jumpy up and down motion one of these little 
 boats gets on, specially after pie and beans for 
 breakfast. Then Eb hands me the steerin 
 ropes while he whittles some pressed oakum off
 
 216 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 the end of a brunette plug and loads his pipe. 
 More perfume comin my way ! 
 
 " Ever try.smokin formaldehyde? " says I. 
 
 " Gosh, no! " says Eb. " What s it like? " 
 
 " You couldn t tell the diff rence," says I. 
 
 11 We git tin tags off m Sailor s Pride," says 
 Eb. " Save up fifty, and you git a premium." 
 
 11 You ought to," says I, " and a pension for 
 life." 
 
 " Huh! " says Eb. It s good eatin too. 
 Ever chaw any? " and he holds out the plug 
 invitin . 
 
 11 Don t tempt me," says I. "I promised 
 my dear old grandmother I wouldn t." 
 
 " Lookin a little peaked, ain t you! " says 
 he. " Most city chaps do when they fust come; 
 but after bout a month of this 
 
 " Chop it, Eb! " says I. "I m feelin un 
 happy enough as it is. A month of this? Ah, 
 say! " 
 
 After awhile we begun stoppin to bait. Eb 
 would shut off the engine, run up to a float, 
 haul in a lot of clothesline, and fin lly pull up an 
 affair that s a cross between a small crockery 
 crate and an openwork hen-coop. Next he d 
 grab a big needle and string a dozen or so of 
 the gooey fish on a cord. I watched once. 
 After that I turned my back. By way of bein 
 obligin , Eb showed me how to roll the fly 
 wheel and start the engine. He said I was a
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOE TOECHY 217 
 
 heap stronger in the arms than I looked, and 
 he didn t mind lettin me do it right along. 
 Friendly old yap, Eb was. I kept on rollin* 
 the wheel. 
 
 So about three P. M., as we was workin our 
 way along the shore, Eb looks up and remarks, 
 " Here s the Hollister place, Eoarin Eocks." 
 
 Sure enough there it was y almost like the 
 postcard picture, only not colored quite so vivid. 
 
 " Folks are out airin themselves too," he 
 goes on. 
 
 They were. I could see three or four people 
 movin about on the veranda; for we wa n t 
 more n half a block away. First off I spots 
 Aunty. She s paradin up and down, stiff and 
 stately, and along with her waddles a wide, 
 dumpy female in pink. And next, all in white, 
 and lookin as slim and graceful as an Easter 
 lily, I makes out Vee ; also a young gent in white 
 flannels and a striped tennis blazer. He s smok- 
 in a cigarette and swingin a racket jaunty. 
 I could even hear Vee s laugh ripple out across 
 the water. You remember how she put it too, 
 " nice, but awfully stupid." Seems she was 
 makin the best of it, though. 
 
 And here I was, in Ira s baggy oilskins, my 
 feet in six inches of oily brine, squattin on the 
 edge of a smelly fish box tryin to hold down 
 a piece of custard pie! No, that wa n t ex 
 actly the rosy picture I threw on the screen
 
 218 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 fcack in the Corrugated gen ral offices only yes 
 terday. Nothing like that! I don t do any 
 hoo-hooin , or wave any private signals. I 
 pulls the sticky sou wester further down over 
 my eyes and squats lower in the boat. 
 
 " Look kind o gay and festive, don t they? " 
 says Eb, straightenin up and wipin his hands 
 on his corduroys. 
 
 " Who s the party in the tennis outfit? " 
 says I. 
 
 " Him? " says Eb, gawpin ashore. " Must 
 "be young Hollister, that owns the mahogany 
 speed boat. Stuck up young dude, I guess. 
 Wall, five more traps to haul, and we re through, 
 Son." 
 
 " Let s go haul em, then," says I, grabbin 
 the flywheel. 
 
 Great excursion, that was! Once more on 
 land, I sneaked soggy footed up to the hotel and 
 piked for my room. I shied supper and went to 
 the feathers early, trustin that if I could get 
 stretched out level with my eyes shut things 
 would stop wavin and bobbin around. That 
 was good dope too. 
 
 I rolled out next mornin feelin fine and 
 silky; but not so cocky by half. Somehow, I 
 wa n t gettin any of the lucky breaks I d looked 
 for. 
 
 My total programme for the day was just to 
 bat around Boothbay. And, say, of all the lone-
 
 THE GLAD HAIL FOE TOUCHY 219 
 
 some places for city clothes and a straw lid! 
 Honest, I never saw so many yachty rigs in my 
 life, young chaps in white ducks and sneakers 
 and canvas shoes, girls in middie blouses, old 
 guys in white flannels and yachtin caps, even 
 old ladies dressed sporty and comf table and 
 more square feet of sunburn than would cover 
 Union Square. I felt like a blond Eskimo at 
 a colored camp meetin . 
 
 As everyone was either comin from or goin 
 to the docks, I wanders down there too, and 
 loafs around watchin the steamers arrive, and 
 the big sailin yachts anchored off in the harbor, 
 and the little boats dodgin around in the choppy 
 water. There s a crisp, salty breeze that s 
 makin the flags snap, the sun s shinin bright, 
 and take it altogether it s some brilliant scene. 
 Only I m on the outside peekin in. 
 
 " What s the use? " thinks I. " I m off my 
 beat up here." 
 
 Fin lly I drifts down to the Yacht Club float, 
 where the launches was comin in thick. I must 
 have been there near an hour, swappin never a 
 word with anybody, and gettin lonesomer by 
 the minute, when in from the harbor dashes a 
 long, low, dark-colored boat and comes rushin 
 at the float like it meant to make a hydroplane 
 jump. At the wheel I gets sight of a young 
 chap who has sort of a worried, scared look 
 on his face. Also he s wearin a striped blazer.
 
 220 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Young Hollister, maybe," thinks I. " And 
 he s in for a smash." 
 
 Just then he manages to throw in his reverse; 
 but it s a little late, for he s got a lot of 
 headway. Honest, I didn t think it out. And I 
 was achin to butt into something. I jumped 
 quick, grabbed the bow as it came in reach, 
 shoved it off vigorous, and brought him along 
 side the fenders without even scratchin the 
 varnish. 
 
 " Thanks, old chap," says he. " Saved me 
 a bad bump there. I I m greatly obliged." 
 
 " You re welcome," says I. " You was 
 steamin in a little strong." 
 
 * I haven t handled the Vixen much myself, 
 says he. " You see, our boatman s laid up, 
 sprained ankle, and I had to come down from 
 the Rocks for some gasolene." 
 
 "Oh! Roarin Rocks? " says I. 
 
 " Yes," says he. " Where s that fool float 
 tender? " 
 
 " Just gone into the clubhouse," says I. 
 " Maybe I could keep her from bumpin while 
 you re gone." 
 
 " By Jove! would you? " says he, handin 
 over a boathook. 
 
 Even then I wa n t layin any scheme. I 
 helps when they put s the gas in, and makes my 
 self gen rally useful. Also I m polite and re 
 spectful, which seems to make a hit with him.
 
 " Deuced bother," says he, " not having any 
 man. I had a picnic planned for today too." 
 
 " That so? " says I. " Well, I m no marine 
 engineer, but I m just killin time around here, 
 and if I could help any way " 
 
 11 Oh, I say, but that s jolly of you," says he. 
 I wonder if you would, for a day or so I My 
 name s Hollister, Payne Hollister." 
 
 He wa n t Payne to me. He was Joy. 
 Easy? Why, he fairly pushes me into it ! Digs 
 a white jumper out of a locker for me, and a 
 little round canvas hat with " Vixen " on the 
 front, and trots back uptown to buy me a swell 
 pair of rubber-soled deck shoes. Business of 
 quick change for yours truly. Then look ! Say, 
 here I am, just about the yachtiest thing in 
 sight, leanin back on the steerin seat cushions 
 of a classy speed boat that s headed towards 
 Vee at a twenty-mile clip.
 
 CHAPTER XHI 
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 
 
 LEMME see, I was headed out of Boothbay 
 Harbor, Maine, bound for Roarin Rocks, wa n t 
 I? Hold the picture, me in a white jumper 
 and little round canvas hat with " Vixen " 
 printed across the front, white shoes too, and 
 altogether as yachty as they come. Don t for 
 get young Mr. Payne Hollister at the wheel, 
 either; although whether I d kidnapped him, 
 or he d kidnapped me, is open for de 
 bate. 
 
 Anyway, here I was, subbin incog for the 
 reg lar crew, who was laid up with a sprained 
 ankle. All that because I d got the happy hail 
 from Vee on a postcard. It wa n t any time for 
 unpleasant thoughts then; but I couldn t help 
 wonderin how soon Aunty would loom on the 
 horizon and spoil it all. 
 
 " So there s a picnic on the slate, eh? " I 
 suggests. 
 
 Young Mr. Hollister nods. " I d promised 
 some of the folks at the house," says he. 
 " Guests, you know." 
 
 222
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A EOSY ONE 223 
 
 " Oh, yes," says I, feelin a little shiver 
 flicker down my spine. 
 
 I knew. Vee was a guest there. So was 
 Aunty. The picnic prospects might have been 
 more allurin . But I d butted in, and this was 
 no time to back out. Besides, I was more or 
 less int rested in sizin up Payne Hollister, 
 Tall, slim, young gent ; dark, serious eyes ; nose 
 a little prominent; and his way of speakin and 
 actin a bit pompous, one of them impatient, 
 quick-motioned kind that wants to do everything 
 in a minute. He keeps gettin up and starin* 
 ahead, like he wa n t quite sure where he was 
 goin , and then leanin over to squint at the 
 engine restless. 
 
 " Just see if those forward oil cups are full r 
 will you? " says he. 
 
 I climbs over and inspects. Everything 
 seems to be 0. K. ; although what I don t know 
 about a six-cylinder marine engine is amazin , 
 
 II "We re slidin through the water slick," 
 says I. 
 
 " She can turn up much faster than this," 
 says he; " only I don t dare open her wide." 
 
 I was satisfied. I could use a minute or so- 
 about then to plot out a few scenarios dealin 
 with how a certain party would act in case of 
 makin a sudden discovery. But I hadn t got 
 past picturin the cold storage stare before the 
 Hollister place shows up ahead, Payne throttles
 
 224 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 the Vixen down cautious, shoots her in be 
 tween a couple of rocky points, and fetches her 
 up alongside a rope-padded private float. 
 There s some steps leadin up to the top of the 
 rocks. 
 
 " Do you mind running up and asking if 
 they re ready? " says Payne. 
 
 " Why, no," says I; " but but who do I 
 ask? " 
 
 " That s so," says he. "And they ll not 
 know who you are, either. I ll go. Just hold 
 her off." 
 
 Me with a boathook, posin back to for the 
 next ten minutes, not even darin to rubber over 
 my shoulder. Then voices, Have you the cof 
 fee bottles? - " Don t forget the steamer 
 rugs." " I put the olives on the top of the 
 sandwiches." " Be careful when you land, 
 Mabel dear."" Oh, we ll be all right." This 
 last from Vee. 
 
 Another minute and they re down on the 
 float, with Payne Hollister explaining " Oh, I 
 forgot. This is someone who is helping me 
 with the boat while Tucker s disabled." I 
 touches my hat respectful; but I m too busy to 
 face around much too busy ! 
 
 " Now, Cousin Mabel," says young Hollister, 
 * right in the middle of that seat ! Easy, 
 now! " 
 
 A squeal from Mabel. No wonder! I gets
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A EOSY ONE 225 
 
 a glimpse of her as she steps down, and, believe 
 me, if I had Mabel s shape and weight you 
 couldn t tease me out on the water in anything 
 smaller n the Mauretania! All the graceful 
 lines of a dumplin , Mabel had; about five feet 
 up and down, and most as much around. Vee 
 is on one side, Payne on the other, both lowerin 
 away careful ; but as she makes the final plunge 
 before floppin onto the seat she reaches out 
 one paw and annexes my right arm. Course 
 that swings me around sudden, and I finds my 
 self gazin at Vee over Payne Hollister s shoul 
 ders, not three feet away. 
 
 " Oh! " says she, startled, and you couldn t 
 blame her. I just has to lay one finger on my 
 lips and shake my head mysterious. 
 
 " All right! " sings out Payne, straightenin 
 up. " Always more or less exciting getting 
 Cousin Mabel aboard; but it s been accom 
 plished. Now, Verona! : 
 
 As he gives her a hand she floats in as light 
 as a bird landin in a treetop. I could feel her 
 watchin me curious and puzzled as I passes the 
 picnic junk down for Hollister to stow away. 
 Course, it wa n t any leadin -heavy, spotlight 
 entrance I was makin at Roarin Rocks; but 
 it s a lot better, thinks I, than not bein there 
 at all. 
 
 " Oh, dear," sighs Mabel, " what a narrow, 
 uncomfortable seat !
 
 226 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Is it, really? " asks Vee. " Can t it be 
 fixed someway, Payne? " 
 
 " Lemme have a try! " says I. With that I 
 stuffs extra cushions around her, folds up a 
 life preserver to rest her feet on, and drapes 
 her with a steamer rug. 
 
 " Thanks," says she, sighin grateful and 
 rewardin me with a display of dimples. 
 " What is your name, young man? " 
 
 " Why," says I, with a glance at Vee, " you 
 can just call me Bill." 
 
 " Nonsense! " says Mabel. " Your name is 
 William." 
 
 11 William goes, Miss," says I; and as she 
 snuggles down I chances a wink Vee s way. 
 No response, though. Vee ain t sure yet 
 whether she ought to grin or give me the call- 
 down. 
 
 " Cast off! " says Payne, and out between 
 the rocks we shoot, with Aunty and Mrs. Hoi- 
 lister wavin from the veranda. Anyway, that 
 was some relief. This wa n t Aunty s day for 
 picnickin . 
 
 She didn t know what she was missin , I ex 
 pect; for, say, that s good breathin air up off 
 Boothbay. There s some life and pep to it, and 
 rushin through it that way you can t help 
 pumpin your lungs full. Makes you glow and 
 tingle inside and out. Makes you want to holler. 
 That, and the sunshine dancin on the water,
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 227 
 
 and the feel of the boat slicin through the 
 waves, the engine purrin away a sort of rag 
 time tune, and the pennants whippin , and all 
 that scenery shiftin around to new angles, not 
 to mention the fact that Vee s along well, I 
 was enjoyin life about then. Kind of got into 
 my blood. Everything was lovely, and I didn t 
 care what happened next. 
 
 Me bein the crew, I expect I should have 
 been fussin around up front, coilin ropes, or 
 groomin the machinery. But I can t make my 
 eyes behave. I has to turn around every now 
 and then and grin. Mabel don t seem to mind. 
 
 " William," says she, signalin me, " see if 
 you can t find a box of candy in that basket." 
 
 I hops over the steerin seat back into the 
 standin room and digs it out. Also I lingers 
 around while Mabel feeds in a few pieces. 
 
 " Have some? " says she. " You re so good- 
 natured looking." 
 
 " That s my long suit," says I. 
 
 Then I see Vee s mouth corners twitchin , 
 and she takes her turn. " You live around 
 here, I suppose, William? " says she. 
 
 * No such luck, says I. " I come up special 
 to get this job." 
 
 " But," puts in Mabel, holdin a fat choco 
 late cream in the air, " Tucker wasn t hurt un 
 til yesterday." 
 
 " That s when I landed," says I.
 
 228 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 " Someone must have sent you word then, * 
 says Vee, impish. 
 
 " Uh-huh," says I. " Someone mighty spe 
 cial too. Sweet of her, wa n t it? " 
 
 "Oh! A girl? " asks Mabel, perkin up. 
 
 " The girl," says I. 
 
 " Tee-hee! snickers Mabel, nudgin Vee 
 delighted. " Is is she very nice, William! 
 Tell us about her, won t you? " 
 
 " Oh, do! " says Vee, sarcastic. 
 
 " Well," says I, lookin at Vee, " she s about 
 your height and build." 
 
 " How interesting! " says Mabel, with an 
 other nudge. " Go on. What kind of 
 hair? " 
 
 " Never was any like it," says I. 
 
 " But her complexion," insists Mabel, " dark 
 or fair? " 
 
 " Pink roses in the mornin , with the dew 
 on," says I. 
 
 " Bravo! " says Mabel, clappin her hands. 
 " And her eyes? " 
 
 " Why," says I, " maybe you ve looked 
 down into deep sea water on a still, gray day? 
 That s it." 
 
 " She must be a beauty," says Mabel. 
 
 " Nothing but," says I. 
 
 " I hope she has a nice disposition too," says 
 she. 
 
 " Nope," says I, shakin my head solemn.
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A EOSY ONE 229 
 
 " Humph! What s the matter with that? " 
 says Vee. 
 
 11 Jumpy," says I. " Eed pepper and pow 
 dered sugar ; sometimes all sugar, sometimes all 
 pepper, then again a mixture. You never can 
 tell." 
 
 " Then I d throw her over," says Vee. 
 
 " Honest, would you? " says I, lookin her 
 square in the eye. 
 
 " If I didn t like her disposition, I would," 
 says she. 
 
 " But that s the best part of her to me," says 
 I. " Adds variety, you know, and well, I ex 
 pect it s about the only way I m like her. Mine 
 is apt to be that way too." 
 
 " Why, of course," comes in Mabel. " If 
 she was as pretty as all that, and angelic 
 too " 
 
 " You got the idea," says I. " She d be in a 
 stained glass window somewhere, eh? 
 
 11 You re a silly boy! " says Vee. 
 
 " That sounds natural," says I. I often 
 get that from her. 
 
 " And is she living up here? " asks Mabel. 
 
 " Visiting," says I. " She s with her " 
 
 " William," breaks in Vee, " I think Mr. 
 Hollister wants you." 
 
 I d most forgot about Payne; for, while he s 
 only a few feet off, he s as much out of the 
 group as if he was ashore. You know how it
 
 230 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 is in one of them high-powered launches with 
 the engine runnin . You can t hear a word 
 unless you re right close to. And Payne s 
 twistin around restless. 
 
 " Yes, Sir? " says I, goin up and reportin . 
 
 " Ask Miss Verona if she doesn t want to 
 come up here," says he. " I I think it will 
 trim the boat better." 
 
 " Sure," says I. But when I passes the word 
 to Vee I translates. " Mr. Hollister s lone 
 some," says I, " and there s room for an 
 other. 
 
 " I ve been wondering if I couldn t," says 
 Vee. 
 
 " You can," says I. " Lemme help you 
 over." 
 
 Gives me a chance for a little hand squeeze 
 and another close glimpse into them gray eyes. 
 I don t make out anything definite, though. 
 But as she passes forward she puckers her lips 
 saucy and whispers, " Pepper! " in my ear. I 
 guess, after all, when you re doin confidential 
 description you don t want to stick too close to 
 facts. Makin it all stained glass window stuff 
 is safer. 
 
 I goes back to Mabel and lets her demand 
 more details. She s just full of romance, Mabel 
 is; not so full, though, that it interferes with 
 her absorbin a few eats now and then. Be 
 tween answerin questions I m kept busy
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A KOSY ONE 231 
 
 liandin out crackers, oranges, and doughnuts, 
 openin the olive bottle, and gettin her drinks 
 of water. Reg lar Consumers League, Mabel. 
 I never run a sausage stuffin machine; but I 
 think I could now. 
 
 " You re such a handy young man to have 
 around," says Mabel, after I ve split a Boston 
 cracker and lined it with strawb ry jam for her; 
 " so much better than Tucker." 
 
 11 That s my aim," says I, " to make you for 
 get Tucker." 
 
 Yes, I was gettin some popular with Mabel, 
 even if I was in wrong with Vee. They seems 
 to be havin quite a chatty time of it, Payne 
 showin her how to steer, and lettin her salute 
 passin launches, and explainin how the en 
 gine worked. As far as them two went, Mabel 
 and me was only so much excess baggage. 
 
 " Why, we re clear out beyond Squirrel! >; 
 exclaims Mabel at last. " Ask Payne where 
 we re going to stop for our picnic. I m getting 
 hungry. 
 
 11 Oh, yes," says Payne, " we must be think 
 ing about landing. I had planned to run out to 
 Damariscove ; but that looks like a fog bank 
 hanging off there. Perhaps we d better go back 
 to Fisherman s Island, after all. Tell her Fish 
 erman s." 
 
 I couldn t see what the fog bank had to do 
 with it not then, anyway. Why, it was a peach.
 
 232 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 of a day, all blue sky, not a sign of a cloud 
 anywhere, and looked like it would stay that 
 way for a week. He keeps the Vixen headed 
 out to sea for awhile longer, and then all of a 
 sudden he circles short and starts back. 
 
 "Fog! he shouts over his shoulder to 
 Mabel. 
 
 " Oh, bother! " says Mabel. " I hate fog. 
 And it is coming in too." 
 
 Yes, that bank did seem to be workin its way 
 toward us, like a big, gray curtain that s bein 
 shoved from the back drop to the front of the 
 stage. You couldn t see it move, though; but 
 as I watched blamed if it don t creep up on an 
 island, a mile or so out, and swallow it complete, 
 same as a picture fades off a movie screen 
 when the lights go wrong. Just like that. Then 
 a few wisps of thin mist floats by, makin things 
 a bit hazy ahead. Squirrel Island, off to the 
 left, disappears like it had gone to the bot 
 tom. The mainland shore grows vague and 
 blurred, and the first thing we know we ain t 
 anywhere at all, the scenery s all smudged out, 
 and nothin in sight but this pearl-gray mist. 
 It ain t very thick, you know, and only a little 
 damp. Rummy article, this State of Maine fog! 
 
 Young Hollister is standin up now, tryin to 
 keep his bearin s and doin his best to look 
 through the haze. He slows the engine down 
 until we re only just chuggin along.
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 233 
 
 11 Let s see," says he, " wasn t Squirrel off 
 there a moment ago? " 
 
 " Why, no," says Vee. " I thought it was 
 more to the left." 
 
 * By Jove ! says he. * * And there are rocks 
 somewhere around here too! : 
 
 Funny how quick you can get turned around 
 that way. Inside of three minutes I couldn t 
 have told where we were at, any more n if 
 I d been blindfolded in a cellar. And I guess 
 young Hollister got to that condition soon 
 after. 
 
 " We ought to be making the south end of 
 Fisherman s soon," he observes. 
 
 But we didn t. He has me climb out on the 
 bow to sing out if I see anything. But, say, 
 there was less to see than any spot I was ever 
 in. I watched and watched, and Payne kept on 
 gettin nervous. And still we keeps chuggin 
 and chuggin , steerin first one way and then 
 the other. It seemed hours we d been gropin 
 around that way when 
 
 11 Eocks ahead! " I sings out as something 
 dark looms up. Payne turns her quick; but 
 before she can swing clear bang goes the bow 
 against something solid and slides up with a 
 gratin sound. He tries backin off; but she 
 don t budge. 
 
 " Hang it all! " says Payne, shuttin off the 
 engine. " I guess we re stuck."
 
 234 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Then why not have the picnic right here? " 
 pipes up Mabel. 
 
 " Here! " snaps Payne. " But I don t know 
 where we are." 
 
 " Oh, what s the difference? " says Mabel. 
 " Besides, I m hungry." 
 
 " I want to get out of this, though," says 
 Payne. " I mean to keep going until I know 
 where I am." 
 
 " Oh, fudge! " says Mabel. " This is good 
 enough. And if we stay here and have a nice 
 luncheon perhaps the fog will go away. What s 
 the sense in drifting around when you re hun 
 gry? " 
 
 That didn t seem such bad dope, either. Vee 
 sides with Mabel, and while Payne don t like 
 the idea he gives in. We seem to have landed 
 somewhere. So we carts the baskets and things 
 ashore, finds a flat place up on the rocks, and 
 then the three of us tackles the job of hoistin 
 Mabel onto dry land. And it was some enter 
 prise, believe me! 
 
 " Goodness! " pants Mabel, after we d got 
 her planted safe. " I don t know how I m ever 
 going to get back." 
 
 We didn t, either; but after we d spread out 
 five kinds of sandwiches within her reach, 
 poured hot coffee out of the patent bottles, 
 opened the sardines and pickles, set out the 
 cake and doughnuts, Mabel ceases to worry.
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 235 
 
 Payne don t, though. He swallows one sand 
 wich, and then goes back to inspect the boat. 
 He announces that the tide is cornin in and she 
 ought to float soon; also that when she does 
 he wants to start back. 
 
 1 Now, Payne ! protests Mabel. Just 
 when I m comfortable! " 
 
 11 And there isn t any hurry, is there! " asks 
 Vee. 
 
 I wa n t so stuck on buttin around in the fog 
 myself; so when he asks me to go down and see 
 if the launch is afloat yet, and I finds that she 
 can be pushed off easy, I don t hurry about 
 tellin him so. Instead I climbs aboard and de 
 velops an idea. You see, when I was out with 
 Eb Westcott in his lobster boat the day before 
 I d noticed him stop the engine just by jerkin 
 a little wire off the spark plug. Here was a 
 whole bunch of wires, though. Wouldn t do to 
 unhitch em all. But along the inside of the 
 boat is a little box affair that they all lead into, 
 with one big wire leadin out. Looked kind of 
 businesslike, that one did. I unhitches it 
 gentle and drapes it over a nearby screwhead. 
 Then I strolls back and reports that she s 
 afloat. 
 
 " Good! " says Payne. " I ll just start the 
 engine and be tuning her up while the girls 
 finish luncheon." 
 
 Well, maybe you can guess. I could hear him
 
 236 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 windin away at the crankin wheel, windin and 
 windin , and then stoppin to cuss a little under 
 his breath. 
 
 11 What s the matter? " sings out Mabel. 
 She was one of the kind that s strong on foolish 
 questions. 
 
 " How the blazes should I know? " raps back 
 young Hollister. " I can t start the blasted 
 thing." 
 
 " Never mind," says Mabel cheerful. " We 
 haven t finished the sandwiches yet." 
 
 Next time I takes a peek Payne has his tool 
 kit spread out and is busy takin things apart. 
 He s getting himself all smeared up with 
 grease and oil too. Pity; for he d started out 
 lookin so neat and nifty. Meanwhile we d fed 
 Mabel to the limit, got her propped up with 
 cushions, and she s noddin contented. 
 
 " Guess I ll do some explorin ," says I. 
 
 " But I ve been wanting to do that this half- 
 hour," says Vee. 
 
 11 Well, let s then," says I. 
 
 " Go on," says Mabel, " and tell me about it 
 afterward." 
 
 Oh, yes, we explores. Say, I m a bear for 
 that too! You have to go hand in hand over 
 the rocks, to keep from slippin . And the fog 
 makes it all the nicer. We didn t go far before 
 we came to the edge. Then we cross in another 
 direction, and comes to more edge.
 
 THEN MY ARM MUST HAVE SLIPPED AND 
 THE SIDE CLINCH WA N T DISTURBED.
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 237 
 
 * * Why, we re on a little island ! says Vee. 
 
 " Big enough for us," says I. " Here s a 
 good place to sit down too." We settles our 
 selves in a snug little corner that gives us a 
 fine view of the fog. 
 
 " How silly of you to come away up here," 
 says Vee, " just because well, just be 
 cause." 
 
 " It s the only wise move I was ever guilty 
 of, says I. * * I feel like I had Solomon in the 
 grammar grade." 
 
 " But how did you happen to get here with 
 Payne? " says she. 
 
 * Hypnotized him, says I. * * That part was 
 a cinch." 
 
 11 And until to-day you didn t know where we 
 were, or anything," says she. 
 
 " I scouted around a bit yesterday after 
 noon," says I. " Saw you too." 
 
 Yesterday ! says she. * Why, no one 
 came near all the afternoon; that is, only a 
 couple of lobstermen in a horrid, smelly old 
 boat." 
 
 " Uh-huh," says I. " One was me, in dis 
 guise." 
 
 " Torchy! " says she, gaspin . And some 
 how she snuggles up a little closer after that. 
 " I didn t think when I wrote," she goes on, 
 " that you would be so absurd." 
 
 " Maybe I was," says I. " But I took it
 
 238 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 straight, that part about it bein stupid up here. 
 
 I was figurin on liftin the gloom. I hadn t 
 counted on Payne." 
 
 " Well, what then? " says she, tossin her 
 chin up. 
 
 " Nothin ," says I. " Guess you were right, 
 too." 
 
 " He only came the other day," says Vee; 
 
 II but he s nice." 
 
 " Aunty thinks so too, don t she? " says I. 
 
 " Why, yes," admits Vee. 
 
 11 Another chosen one, is he? " says I. 
 
 Vee flushes. " I don t care! " says she. 
 " He is rather nice." 
 
 " Correct," says I. "I found him that way 
 too; but ain t he well, just a little stiff in the 
 neck? " 
 
 That brings out a giggle. Poor Payne ! > 
 says Vee. " He is something of a stick, you 
 know. 
 
 " We ll forgive him for that," says I. 
 " We ll forgive Mabel. We ll forgive the fog. 
 Eh? Then my arm must have slipped. 
 
 * * Why, Torchy ! says she. 
 
 11 Oh! " says I. " Thought you were too 
 near the edge." And the side clinch wa n t 
 disturbed. 
 
 Some chat too ! I don t know when we ve had 
 a chance for any such a good long talk as that, 
 and we both seemed to have a lot of conversa-
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 239 
 
 tion stored up. Then we chucked pebbles into 
 the water, and Vee pulls some seaweed and dec 
 orates my round hat. You know? It s easy 
 killin time when you re paired off right. And 
 the first thing we knows the fog begins to lighten 
 and the sun almost breaks through. We hurries 
 back to where Mabel s just rousin from a 
 doze. 
 
 " Well! " says she. 
 
 " It s a tiny little island we re on," says Vee. 
 
 " Nice little island, though," says I. 
 
 " Hey! " sings out Payne, pokin his head 
 up over the rocks. " I ve been calling and call 
 ing." 
 
 " We ve been explorin ," says I. " Got her 
 fixed yet?" 
 
 " Hang it, no ! " growls Payne, scrubbin cot 
 ton waste over his forehead. " And the fog s 
 beginning to lift. Why, there s the shore, and 
 and well, what do you think of that ? We re 
 on Grampus Ledges, not a mile from home ! : 
 
 Sure enough, there was Roarin Rocks just 
 showin up. 
 
 " Now if I could only start this confounded 
 engine! " says he, starin down at it puzzled. 
 
 By this time Vee and Mabel appears, and 
 of course Mabel wants to know what s the 
 matter. 
 
 "I m sure I can t tell," says Payne, sighin* 
 hopeless.
 
 240 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Wirin all right, is it? " says I, climbin in 
 and lookin scientific. And would you believe 
 it ? I only paws around a minute or so before I 
 finds a loose magneto connection, hooks it up 
 proper, and remarks casual, Now let s try 
 her." 
 
 Pur-r-r-r-r ! Off she goes. * There ! " ex 
 claims Mabel. I shall never go out again un 
 less William is along. He s so handy! " 
 
 Say, she stuck to it. Four days I was chief 
 engineer of the Vixen and, take it from me, 
 they was perfectly good days. No more fog. 
 No rain. Just shoolin around in fair weather, 
 makin excursions here and there, with Vee 
 trippin down to the dock every day in a fresher 
 and newer yachtin costume, and lookin pinker 
 and sweeter every trip. 
 
 Course, as regards a certain other party, it 
 was a case of artistic dodgin for me between 
 times. You got to admit, though, that it wa n t 
 a fair test for Aunty. I had her off her guard. 
 Might have been diff rent too, if she d cared 
 for motorboatin . So maybe I got careless. I 
 remember once passin Aunty right in the path 
 as I m luggin some things up to the house, and 
 all I does is to hoist the basket up on my 
 shoulder between me and her and push right 
 along. 
 
 Then here the last mornin , just as we got 
 tinder way for a run to Damariscotta, she and
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 241 
 
 Mrs. Hollister was up on the cliff seein us off. 
 All the rest was wavin ; so just for sport I 
 takes off my hat and waves too, grinnin humor 
 ous at Vee as I makes the play. But, say, next 
 time I looks back she s up on the veranda with 
 the fieldglasses trained on us. I keeps my hat 
 on after that. My kind of red hair is prominent 
 enough to the naked eye at almost any distance 
 but with fieldglasses ! Good night ! 
 
 It was a day for forgettin things, though. 
 Ever sailed up the Scotty River on a perfect 
 August day, with the sun on the green hills, a 
 sea breeze tryin to follow the tide in, and the 
 white gulls swingin lazy overhead? It s worth 
 doin . Then back again, roundin Ocean Point 
 about sunset, with the White Islands all tinted 
 up pink off there, and the old Atlantic as smooth 
 as a skatin rink as far out as you can see, and 
 streaked with more colors than a crazy cubist 
 can sling, some peaceful picture. 
 
 But what a jar to find Aunty, grim and for- 
 biddin , waitin on the dock. She never says 
 a word until we d landed and everyone but 
 me had started for the house. Then I got 
 mine. 
 
 " Boy," says she icy, " take off that hat! " 
 
 I does it reluctant. 
 
 Humph ! says she. William ! I thought 
 so." That s all; but she says it mighty ex 
 pressive.
 
 242 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 The programme for the followin day in 
 cluded a ten o clock start, and I d been down 
 to the boat ever since breakfast, tidyin things 
 up and sort of wonderin . About nine-fifteen, 
 though, young Hollister comes wanderin down 
 by his lonesome. 
 
 11 It s all off," says he. " Miss Verona and 
 her aunt have gone." 
 
 " Eh? " says I, gawpin . " Gone? " 
 
 " Early this morning," says he. "I don t 
 quite understand why; something about Vero 
 na s being out on the water so much, I 
 believe. Gone to the mountains. And er by 
 the way, Tucker is around again. Here he 
 comes now." 
 
 " He gets the jumper, then," says I, peelin 
 it off. " I guess I m due back on Broadway." 
 
 " It s mighty good of you to help out," says 
 Payne, " and I I want to do the right thing 
 in the way of " 
 
 " You have," says I. " You ve helped me 
 have the time of my life. Put up the kale, Hol 
 lister. If you ll land me at the Harbor, I ll call 
 it square." 
 
 He don t want to let it stand that way; but 
 I insists. As I climbs out on the Yacht Club 
 float, where he d picked me up, he puts out his 
 hand friendly. 
 
 " And, say," says I, " how about Miss 
 Vee? "
 
 AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE 243 
 
 " Why," says he, "I m very sorry she 
 couldn t stay longer." 
 
 " Me too," says I. " Some girl, eh? " 
 
 Payne nods hearty, and we swaps a final grip. 
 
 Well, it was great ! My one miscue was not 
 wearin a wig.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 
 
 WE thought it was all over too. That s the 
 way it is in plays and books, where they don t 
 gen rally take em beyond the final clinch, leav- 
 in you to fill in the bliss ad lib. But here we d 
 seen em clear through the let-no-man-put- 
 asunder stage, even watched em dodge the rice 
 and confetti in their dash to the limousine. 
 
 " Thank goodness that s through with! " re 
 marks Mother, without makin any bones of it. 
 
 Course, her reg lar cue was to fall on Fa 
 ther s neck and weep; but, then, I expect Mrs. 
 Cheyne Ballard s one of the kind you can t write 
 any form sheet for. She s a lively, bunchy 
 little party, all jump and go and jingle, who 
 looks like she might have been married herself 
 only day before yesterday. 
 
 "I hope Robbie knows where she put those 
 trunk checks," says Father, at the same time 
 sighin sort of relieved. 
 
 From where I stood, though, the guy who was 
 pushin overboard the biggest chunk of worry 
 was this I- wilt boy, Mr. Nicholas Talbot. He d 
 
 244
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 245 
 
 got her at last! But, z-z-z-zingo! it had been 
 some lively gettin . Not that I was all through 
 the campaign with him; but I d had glimpses 
 here and there. 
 
 You see, Bobbie s almost one of the fam ly; 
 for Mr. Bobert s an old friend of the Ballards, 
 and was bottle holder or something at the chris- 
 tenin . As a matter of fact, she was named 
 Boberta after him. Then he d watched her 
 grow up, and always remembered her birthdays, 
 and kept her latest picture on his desk. So why 
 shouldn t he figure more or less when so many 
 others was tryin to straighten out her love 
 affairs? They was some tangled there for 
 awhile too. 
 
 Bobbie s one of the kind, you know, that 
 would have Cupid cross-eyed in one season. A 
 queen? Well, take it from me! Say, the way 
 her cheeks was tinted up natural would have a 
 gold medal rose lookin like it come off a 
 twenty-nine-cent roll of wall paper. Then them 
 pansy-colored eyes ! Yes, Miss Boberta Ballard 
 was more or less ornamental. That wa n t all, 
 of course. She could say more cute things, and 
 cut loose with more unexpected pranks, than a 
 roomful of Billie Burkes. As cunnin as a kit 
 ten, she was. 
 
 No wonder Nick Talbot fell for her the first 
 time he was exposed ! Course, he was half en 
 gaged to that stunnin Miss Marian Marlowe at
 
 246 ON WITH TOBCHY 
 
 the time; but wa n t Bobbie waverin between 
 three young chaps that all seemed to be in the 
 runnin before Nick showed up ? 
 
 Anyway, Miss Marlowe should have known 
 better than to lug in her steady when she was 
 visitin . She d been chummy with Bobbie at 
 boardin school, and should have known how 
 dangerous she was. But young Mr. Talbot had 
 only two looks before he s as strong for Bobbie 
 as though it had been comin on for years back. 
 Impetuous young gent that way he was too; 
 and, bein handicapped by no job, and long on 
 time and money, he does some spirited rushin . 
 
 Seems Bobbie Ballard didn t mind. Excite 
 ment was her middle name, novelty was her 
 strong suit, and among Nick s other attractions 
 he was brand new. Besides, wa n t he a swell 
 one-stepper, a shark at tennis, and couldn t he 
 sing any ragtime song that she could drum 
 out? The ninety-horse striped racin car that 
 he came callin in helped along some; for one 
 of Bobbie s fads was for travelin fast. Course, 
 she d been brought up in limousines; but the 
 mile in fifty seconds gave her a genuine thrill. 
 
 When it come to holdin out her finger for the 
 big solitaire that Nick flashed on her about the 
 third week, though, she hung back. The others 
 carried about the same line of jew lry around 
 in their vest pockets, waitin for a chance to 
 decorate her third finger. One had the loveliest
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 247 
 
 gray eyes too. Then there was another entry, 
 with the dearest little mustache, who was a bear 
 at doin the fish-walk tango with her; not to 
 mention the young civil engineer she d met last 
 winter at Palm Beach. But he didn t actually 
 count, not bein on the scene. 
 
 Anyway, three was enough to keep guessin 
 at once. Robbie was real modest that way. But 
 she sure did have em all busy. If it was a sixty- 
 mile drive with Nick before luncheon, it was apt 
 to be an afternoon romp in the surf with the 
 gray-eyed one, and a toss up as to which of the 
 trio took her to the Casino dance in the evenin . 
 Mother used to laugh over it all with Mr. 
 Robert, who remarked that those kids were 
 absurd. Nobody seemed to take it serious; for 
 Robbie was only a few months over nineteen. 
 
 But young Mr. Talbot had it bad. Besides, 
 he d always got about what he wanted before, 
 and this time he was in dead earnest. So the 
 first thing Mother and Father knew they were 
 bein interviewed. Robbie had half said she 
 might if there was no kick from her dear par 
 ents, and he wanted to know how about it. 
 Mr. Cheyne Ballard supplied the information 
 prompt. He called Nick an impudent young 
 puppy, at which Mother wept and took the 
 young gent s part. Robbie blew in just then 
 and giggled through the rest of the act, until 
 Father quit disgusted and put it square up to
 
 248 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 her. Then she pouted and locked herself in her 
 room. That s when Mr. Robert was sent for; 
 but she wouldn t give him any decision, either. 
 
 So for a week there things was in a mess, with 
 Robbie balkin , Mother havin a case of nerves, 
 Father nursin a grouch, and Nick Talbot 
 mopin around doleful. Then some girl friend 
 suggested to Robbie that if she did take Nick 
 they could have a moonlight lawn weddin , with 
 the flower gardens all lit up by electric bulbs, 
 which would be too dear for anything. Robbie 
 perked up and asked for details. Inside of an 
 hour she was plannin what she would wear. 
 Late in the afternoon Nick heard the glad news 
 himself, through a third party. 
 
 First off the date was set for early next spring, 
 when she d be twenty. That was Father s 
 dope; although Mother was willin it should 
 be pulled off around Christmas time. Nick, he 
 stuck out for the first of October; but Robbie 
 says: 
 
 " Oh, pshaw! There won t be any flowers 
 then, and we ll be back in town. Why not week 
 after next? " 
 
 So that s the compromise fin lly agreed on. 
 The moonlight stunt had to be scratched; but 
 the outdoor part was stuck to and believe me 
 it was some classy hitchin bee! 
 
 They d been gone about two weeks, I guess, 
 with everybody contented except maybe the
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 249 
 
 three losers, and all hands countin the incident 
 closed; when one forenoon Mother shows up at 
 the gen ral offices, has a long talk with Mr, 
 Eobert, and goes away moppin her eyes. Then 
 there s a call for Mr. Cheyne Ballard s down 
 town number, and Mr. Robert has a confab with 
 him over the phone. Next comes three lively 
 rings for me on the buzzer, and I chases into the 
 private office. Mr. Robert is sittin scowlin , 
 makin savage jabs with a paper knife at the 
 blotter pad. 
 
 " Torchy," says he, "I find myself in a 
 deucedly awkward fix. 
 
 " Another lobbyist been squealin? " says I. 
 
 11 No, no! " says he. " This is a personal 
 affair, and well, it s embarrassing, to say the 
 least." 
 
 " Another lobbyist been squealin ? " says L 
 
 " It s about Roberta," says he. 
 
 " What again? " says I. " But I thought 
 they was travelin abroad? 
 
 " I wish they were," says he; " but they re 
 not. At the last moment, it seems, Robbie de 
 cided she didn t care for a foreign trip, too 
 late in the season, and she didn t want to be 
 going over just when everyone was coming 
 back, you know. So they went up to Thunder- 
 caps instead." 
 
 " Sounds stormy," says I. 
 
 " You re quite right," says he. " But it s
 
 250 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 a little gem of a place that young Talbot s 
 father built up in the Adirondacks. I was there 
 once. It s right on top of a mountain. And 
 that s where they are now, miles from anywhere 
 or anybody." 
 
 " And spoony as two mush ladles, I expect," 
 says I. 
 
 " Humph! " says he, tossin the brass paper 
 knife reckless onto the polished mahogany desk 
 top. They ought to be, I will admit ; but oh, 
 hang it all, if you re to be of any use in this 
 beastly affair, I suppose you must be told the 
 humiliating, ugly truth! They are not spoon 
 ing. Eobbie is very unhappy. She she s 
 being abused." 
 
 11 Well, what do you know! " says I. " You 
 don t mean he s begun draggin her around by 
 the hair, or " 
 
 11 Don t! " says Mr. Robert, bun chin his fists 
 nervous. " I can t tell. Robbie hasn t gone 
 into that. But she has written her mother that 
 she is utterly wretched, and that this precious 
 Nick Talbot of hers is unbearable. The young 
 whelp ! If I could only get my hands on him 
 for five minutes! But, blast it all! that s just 
 what I mustn t do until until I m sure. I can t 
 trust myself to go. That is why I must send 
 you, young man. 
 
 " EM " says I, starin . " Me? Ah, say, 
 Mr. Robert, I wouldn t stand any show at all
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 251 
 
 mixin it with a young husk like him. Why, 
 after the first poke I d be " 
 
 11 You misunderstand," says he. " That 
 poke part I can attend to very well myself. But 
 I want to know the worst before I start in, and 
 if I should go up there now, feeling as I do, I 
 well, I might not be a very patient investigator. 
 You see, don t you? " 
 
 " Might blow a gasket, eh? " says I. " And 
 you want me to go up and scout around. But 
 what if I m caught at it am I peddlin soap, 
 or what? " 
 
 " A plausible errand is just what I ve been 
 trying to invent, says he. * Can you suggest 
 anything? " 
 
 " Why," says I, " I might go disguised as a 
 lone bandit who d robbed a train and was " 
 
 " Too theatrical," objects Mr. Eobert. 
 
 "Or a guy come to test the gas meter," I 
 goes on. 
 
 " Nonsense! " says he. " No gas meters up 
 there. Forget the disguise. They both know 
 you, remember." 
 
 " Oh, well," says I, " if I can t wear a wig, 
 then I expect I ll have to go as special messen 
 ger sent up with some nutty present or other, 
 a five-pound box of candy, or flowers, or " 
 
 " That s it orchids! " breaks in Mr. Eobert. 
 * Eobbie expects a bunch from me about every 
 so often. The very thing! "
 
 252 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 So less n an hour later I m on my way, with 
 fifty dollars worth of freak posies in a box, and 
 instructions to stick around Thundercaps as 
 long as I can, with my eyes wide open and my 
 ears stretched. Mr. Robert figures I ll land 
 there too late for the night train back, anyway, 
 and after that I m to use my bean. If I finds 
 the case desp rate, I m to beat it for the nearest 
 telegraph office and wire in. 
 
 " Poor little girl! " is Mr. Robert s closin* 
 remark. " Poor little Robbie! 
 
 Cheerful sort of an errand, wa n t it, bein* 
 sent to butt in on a Reno curtain raiser? Easy 
 enough workin up sympathy for the abused 
 bride. Why, she wa n t much more n a kid, and 
 one who d been coddled and petted all her life, 
 at that ! And here she ups and marries offhand 
 this two-fisted young hick who turns out to be 
 bad inside. You wouldn t have guessed it, 
 either; for, barrin a kind of heavy jaw and 
 deep-set eyes, he had all the points of a per 
 fectly nice young gent. Good fam ly too. Mr. 
 Robert knew two of his brothers well, and durin 
 the coo campaign he d rooted for Nick. Then 
 he had to show a streak like this ! 
 
 11 But wait! " thinks I. " If I can get any 
 thing on him, he sure will have it handed to 
 him hot when Mr. Robert arrives. I want to 
 see it done too." 
 
 You don t get to places like Thundercaps in
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 253 
 
 a minute, though. It s the middle of the after 
 noon before I jumps the way train at a little 
 mountain station, and then I has to hunt up a 
 jay with a buckboard and take a ten-mile drive 
 over a course like a roller coaster. They ought 
 to smooth that Adirondack scenery down some. 
 Crude stuff, I call it. 
 
 But, say, the minute we got inside Thunder- 
 caps gates it s diff rent smooth green lawns, 
 lots of flowerbeds, a goldfish pool, almost like 
 a chunk of Central Park. In the middle is a 
 white-sided, red-tiled shack, with pink and 
 white awnings, and odd windows, and wide, cozy 
 verandas, just the spot where you d think a 
 perfectly good honeymoon might be pulled off. 
 
 I m just unloadin my bag and the flowerbox 
 when around a corner of the cottage trips a 
 cerise-tinted vision in an all lace dress and a 
 butterfly wrap. Course, it s Eobbie. She s 
 heard the sound of wheels, and has come a 
 runnin . 
 
 " Oh ! " says she, stoppin sudden and puck- 
 erin her baby mouth into a pout. " I thought 
 someone was arriving, you know." "Which was 
 a sad jolt to give a rescuer, wa n t it? 
 
 " Sorry," says I; " but I m all there is." 
 
 " You re the boy from Uncle Robert s office 
 Torchy, isn t it? " says she. 
 
 " It is," says I. " Fired up with flowers and 
 Mr. Robert s compliments."
 
 254 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 The old dear ! says she, grabbin the box, 
 slippin off the string, and divin into the tissue 
 paper. " Orchids, too! Oh, goody! But they 
 don t go with my coat. Pooh! I don t need it, 
 anyway." With that she sheds the butterfly 
 arrangement, chuckin it casual on the steps, 
 and jams the whole of that fifty dollars worth 
 under her sash. " There, how does that look, 
 Mr. Torchy? " says she, takin a few fancy 
 steps back and forth. 
 
 " All right, I guess," says I. 
 
 11 Stupid! " says she, stampin her double 
 A-l pump peevish. " Is that the prettiest you 
 can say it? Come, now aren t they nice on 
 me? " 
 
 " Nice don t cover it," says I. " I was only 
 wonderin whether orchids was invented for 
 you, or you for orchids." 
 
 This brings out a trilly little laugh, like 
 jinglin a string of silver bells, and she shows 
 both dimples. " That s better," says she. 
 " Almost as good as some of the things Bud 
 Chandler can say. Dear old Bud! He s such 
 fun! " 
 
 " He was the gray-eyed one, wa n t he? 
 says I. 
 
 " Why, yes," says she. " He was a dear. 
 So was Oggie Holcomb. I wish Nick would 
 ask them both up." 
 
 " Eh? " says I. " The also rans? Here? "
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 255 
 
 " Pooh! "says she. "Why not! It s fright 
 fully dull, being all alone. But Nick won t do 
 it, the old bear ! " 
 
 Which reminds me that I ought to be scoutin* 
 for black eyes, or wrist bruises, or finger marks 
 on her neck. Nothin of the kind shows up, 
 though. 
 
 " Been kind of rough about it, has he? " 
 says I. 
 
 " He s been perfectly awful! : says she. 
 " Sulking around as though I d done something 
 terrible! But I ll pay him up. Come, you re 
 not going back tonight, are you? 
 
 " Can t," says I. "No train." 
 
 " Then you must play with me," says she, 
 grabbin my hand kittenish and startin to run 
 me across the yard. 
 
 " But, see here," says I, followin her on the 
 jump. " Where s Hubby? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," says she. " Off tramp 
 ing through the woods with his dog, I suppose. 
 He s sulking, as usual. And all because I in 
 sisted on writing to Oggie! Then there was 
 something about the servants. I don t know, 
 only things went wrong at breakfast, and some 
 of them have threatened to leave. Who cares? 
 Yesterday it was about the tennis court. What 
 if he did telegraph to have it laid out? I 
 couldn t play when I found I hadn t brought 
 any tennis shoes, could I? Besides, there s no
 
 256 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 fun playing against Nick, he s such a shark. 
 He didn t like it, either, because I wouldn t use 
 the baby golf course. But I will with you. 
 Come on." 
 
 11 I never did much putting," says I. 
 
 " Nor I," says she; " but we can try." 
 
 Three or four holes was enough for her, 
 though, and then she has a new idea. " You 
 rag, don t you? " says she. 
 
 " Only a few tango steps," says I. " My feet 
 stutter." 
 
 " Then I ll show you how," says she. " We 
 have some dandy records, and the veranda s 
 just right." 
 
 So what does she do but tow me back to the 
 house, ring up a couple of maids to clear away 
 all the rugs and chairs, and push the music 
 machine up to the open window. 
 
 " Put on that Too Much Mustard, An 
 nette," says she, " and keep it going." 
 
 Must have surprised Annette some, as I 
 hadn t been accounted for; but a little thing 
 like that don t bother Robbie. She gives me 
 the proper grip for the onestep, which is 
 some close clinch, believe me! cuddles her 
 fluffy head down on my necktie, and off we 
 goes. 
 
 " No, don t try to trot," says she. " Just 
 balance and keep time, and swing two or three 
 times at the turn. Keep your feet apart, you
 
 \VE WAS RIGHT IN THE .MIDST OF PKAfTISIN THE SIDKWISH DIP, 
 WHO SHOULD SHOW UP BUT THE HAPPY BRIDEGROOM !
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 257 
 
 know. Now back me. Swing! There, you re 
 getting it. Keep on! " 
 
 Some spieler, Bobbie; and whether or not 
 that was just a josh about orchids bein in 
 vented for her, there s no doubt but what rag 
 time was. Yes, yes, that s where she lives. 
 And me? Well, I can t say I hated it. With 
 her coachin me, and that snappy music goin , 
 I caught the idea quick enough, and first I knew 
 we was workin in new variations that she d 
 suggest, doin the slow toe pivot, the kitchen 
 sink, and a lot more. 
 
 We stopped long enough to have tea and 
 cakes served, and then Bobbie insists on tryin 
 some new stunts. There s a sidewise dip, where 
 you twist your partner around like you was 
 tryin to break her back over a chair, and we 
 was right in the midst of practisin that when 
 who should show up but the happy bridegroom. 
 And someway I ve seen em look more pleased. 
 
 " Oh, that you, old Grumpy? " says young 
 Mrs. Talbot, stoppin for a minute. " You re 
 member Torchy, from Uncle Bobert s office, 
 don t you? He came up with some orchids. 
 We re having such fun too." 
 
 " Looks so," says Nick. " Can t I cut in? " 
 
 Oh, bother ! says Bobbie. No, I m tired 
 now. 
 
 " Just one dance! " pleads Nick. 
 
 " Oh, afterward, perhaps," says she.
 
 258 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 "There I Just look at those silly orchids! 
 Aren t they sights? " With that she snakes 
 em out and tosses the wilted bunch careless 
 over the veranda rail. " And now," she adds, 
 " I must dress for dinner." 
 
 " You ve nearly two hours, Pet," protests 
 Nick. * Come to the outlook with me and watch 
 the sunset." 
 
 " It s too lonesome," says Robbie, and off 
 she goes. 
 
 It should have happened then, if ever. I was 
 standin by, waitin for him to cut loose with 
 the cruel words, and maybe introduce a little 
 hair-draggin scene. But Nick Talbot just 
 stands there gazin after her kind of sad and 
 mushy, not even grindin his teeth. Next he 
 sighs, drops his chin, and slumps into a chair. 
 Honest, that got me ; for it was real woe showin 
 on his face, and he seems to be strugglin with 
 it man fashion. Somehow it seemed up to me 
 to come across with a few soothin remarks. 
 
 " Sorry I butted in," says I; " but Mr. 
 Eobert sent me up with the flowers." 
 
 11 Oh, that s all right," says he. "Glad you 
 came. I I suppose she needed someone else 
 to to talk to." 
 
 " But you wouldn t stand for invitin the 
 leftovers on your honeymoon, eh? " I suggests. 
 
 * No, hang it all ! " says he. * That was too 
 much. She she mentioned it, did she? :
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 259 
 
 " Just casual," says I. " I take it things 
 ain t been goin smooth gen rally? " 
 
 He nods gloomy. " You were bound to notice 
 it," says he. " Anyone would. I haven t been 
 able to humor all her whims. Of course, she s 
 been used to having so much going on around 
 her that this must seem rather tame; but I 
 thought, you know, that when we were married 
 well, she doesn t seem to realize. And I ve 
 offered to take her anywhere, to Newport, to 
 Lenox, to the White Mountains, or touring. 
 Three times this week we ve packed to go to 
 different places, and then she s changed her 
 mind. But I can t take her back to Long Island, 
 to her mother s, so soon, or ask a lot of her 
 friends up here. It would be absurd. But 
 things can t go on this way, either. It it s 
 awful! " 
 
 I leaves him with his chin propped up in his 
 hands, starin gloomy at the floor, while I wan 
 ders out and pipes off the sun dodgin behind 
 the hills. 
 
 Later on Robbie insists on draggin me in 
 for dinner with em. She s some dream too, 
 the way she s got herself up, and lighted up 
 by the pink candleshades, with them big pansy 
 eyes sparklin , and the color comin and goin 
 in her cheeks say, it most made me dizzy to 
 look. Then to hear her rattle on in her cute, 
 kittenish way was better n a cabaret show.
 
 260 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 Mostly, though, it s aimed at me; while Nick 
 Talbot is left to play a thinkin part. He sits 
 watchin her with sort of a dumb, hungry look, 
 like a big dog. 
 
 And it was a punk dinner in other ways. 
 The soup was scorched somethin fierce; but 
 Eobbie don t seem to notice it. The roast 
 lamb hadn t had the red cooked out of it; but 
 Eobbie only asks what kind of meat it is and 
 remarks that it tastes queer. She has a reg lar 
 fit, though, because the dessert is peach ice 
 cream with fresh fruit flavorin . 
 
 11 And Cook ought to know that I like straw 
 berry better," says she. 
 
 " But it s too late for strawberries," explains 
 Nick. 
 
 " I don t care! " pouts Eobbie. " I don t 
 like this, and I m going to send it all back to 
 the kitchen." She does it too, and the maid 
 grins impudent as she lugs it out. 
 
 That was a sample of the way Eobbie be 
 haved for the rest of the evenin , chatterin 
 and laughin one minute, almost weepin the 
 next; until fin lly she slams down the piano 
 cover and flounces off to her room. Nick 
 Talbot sits bitin his lips and lookin des- 
 p rate. 
 
 "I m sure I don t know what to do," says 
 he half to himself. 
 
 At that I can t hold it any longer. " Say,
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 261 
 
 Talbot," says I, " before we get any further 
 I got to own up that I m a ringer." 
 
 " A a what? " says he, starin puzzled. 
 
 "I m supposed to be here just as a special 
 messenger," says I; " but, on the level, I was 
 sent up here to sleuth for brutal acts. Uh-huh ! 
 That s what the folks at home think, from the 
 letters she s been writin . Mr. Robert was dead 
 sure of it. But I see now they had the wrong 
 dope. I guess I ve got the idea. What you re 
 up against is simply a spoiled kid proposition, 
 and if you don t mind my mixin in I d like to 
 state what I think I d do if it was me." 
 
 " Well, what? " says he. 
 
 "I d whittle a handle on a good thick shin 
 gle," says I, " and use it." 
 
 He stiffens a little at that first off, and then 
 looks at me curious. Next he chuckles. " By 
 Jove, though ! says he after awhile. 
 
 Yes, we had a long talk, chummy and confi 
 dential, and before we turns in Nick has plotted 
 out a substitute for the shingle programme that 
 he promises to try on first thing next mornin . 
 I didn t expect to be in on it; but we happens 
 to be sittin on the veranda waitin for break 
 fast, when out comes Robbie in a pink mornin* 
 gown with a cute boudoir cap on her head. 
 
 " Why haven t they sent up my coffee and 
 rolls? " she demands. 
 
 " Did you order them, Robbie? " says Nick.
 
 262 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Why no," says she. " Didn t you? " 
 
 " No," says Nick. "I m not going to, either. 
 You re mistress of the house, you know, 
 Robbie, and from now on you are in full 
 charge. 
 
 " But but I thought Mrs. Parkins, the 
 housekeeper, was to manage all those things," 
 says she. 
 
 " You said yesterday you couldn t bear Mrs. 
 Parkins," says Nick; "so I m sending her 
 back to town. She s packing her things now. 
 There are four servants left, though, which is 
 enough. But they need straightening out. They 
 are squabbling over their work, and neglecting 
 it. You will have to settle all that." 
 
 "But but, Nick," protests Robbie, "I m 
 sure I know nothing at all about it." 
 
 " As my wife you are supposed to," says 
 Nick. " You must learn. Anyway, I ve told 
 them they needn t do another stroke until they 
 get orders from you. And I wish you d begin. 
 I d rather like breakfast." 
 
 He s real calm and pleasant about it; but 
 there s somethin solid about the way his jaw 
 is set. Robbie eyes him a minute hesitatin and 
 doubtful, like a schoolgirl that s bein scolded. 
 Then all of a sudden there s a change. The 
 pout comes off her lips, her chin stops tremblin , 
 and she squares her shoulders. 
 
 " I m I m sorry, Nicholas," says she. " I
 
 CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS 263 
 
 I ll do my best." And off she marches to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 And, say, half an hour later we were all sit- 
 tin down to as good a ham omelet as I ever 
 tasted. When I left with Nick to catch the fore 
 noon express, young Mrs. Talbot was chewin 
 the end of a lead pencil, with them pansy eyes 
 of hers glued on a pad where she was dopin 
 out her first dinner order. She would break 
 away from it only long enough to give Hubby 
 a little bird peck on the cheek; but he seems 
 tickled to death with that. 
 
 So it wa n t any long report I has to hand in 
 to Mr. Robert that night. 
 
 " All bunk! " says I. " Just a case of a 
 honeymoon that rose a little late. It s shinin 
 steady now, though. But, say, I hope I m never 
 batty enough to fall for one of the butterfly 
 kind. If I do good night !
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 
 
 MAYBE it ain t figured in the headlines, or 
 been noised around enough for the common 
 stockholders to get panicky over it, but, believe 
 me, it was some battle! Uh-huh! What else 
 could you expect with Old Hickory Ellins on 
 one side and George "Wesley Jones on the other? 
 And me? Say, as it happens, I was right on the 
 firin line. Talk about your drummer boys of 
 61 I guess the office boy of this A. M. ain t 
 such a dead one ! 
 
 Course I knew when Piddie begins tiptoein 
 around important, and Mr. Robert cuts his 
 lunchtime down to an hour, that there s some 
 thing in the air besides humidity. 
 
 " Boy," says Old Hickory, shootin his words 
 out past the stub of a thick black cigar, "I m 
 expecting a Mr. Jones sometime this after 
 noon." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," says I. " Any particular Jones, 
 Sir? " 
 
 " That," says he, " is a detail with whichi 
 you need not burden your mind. I am not an 
 ticipating a convention of Joneses." 
 
 264
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 265 
 
 " Oh! " says I. " I was only thinkin that 
 in case some other guy by the same name 
 should " 
 
 " Yes, I understand," he breaks in; " but in 
 that remote contingency I will do my best to 
 handle the situation alone. And when Mr. 
 Jones comes show him in at once. After that 
 I am engaged for the remainder of the day. Is 
 that quite clear? " 
 
 "I m next," says I. " Pass a Jones, and 
 then set the block." 
 
 If he thought he could mesmerize me by any 
 such simple motions as that he had another 
 guess. Why, even if it had been my first day 
 on the job, I d have been hep that it wa n t any 
 common weekday Jones he was expectin to 
 stray in accidental. Besides, the minute I spots 
 that long, thin nose, the close-cropped, grizzly 
 mustache, and the tired gray eyes with the 
 heavy bags underneath, I knew it was George 
 Wesley himself. Ain t his pictures been printed 
 often enough lately? 
 
 He looks the part too, and no wonder! If 
 I d been hammered the way he has, with seven 
 teen varieties of Rube Legislatures shootin my 
 past career as full of holes as a Swiss cheese, 
 grand juries handin down new indictments 
 every week end, four thousand grouchy share 
 holders howlin about pared dividends, and 
 twice as many editorial pens proddin em.
 
 266 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 along well, take it from me, I d be on my way 
 towards the tall trees with my tongue hangin 
 out! 
 
 Here he is, though, with his shoulders back 
 and a sketchy, sarcastic smile flickerin in his 
 mouth corners as he shows up for a hand-to- 
 hand set-to with Old Hickory Ellins. Course 
 it s news to me that the Corrugated interests 
 and the P., B. & R. road are mixed up anywhere 
 along the line; but it ain t surprisin . 
 
 Besides mines and rollin mills, we do a whole 
 sale grocery business, run a few banks, own a 
 lot of steam freighters, and have all kinds of 
 queer ginks on our payroll, from welfare work 
 ers to would-be statesmen. We re always ready 
 to slip one of our directors onto a railroad 
 board too ; so I takes it that the way P., B. & R. 
 has been juggled lately was a game that touches 
 us somewhere on the raw. Must be some kind 
 of a war on the slate, or Old Hickory d never 
 called for a topliner like George Wesley Jones 
 to come on the carpet. If it had been a case 
 of passin the peace pipe, Mr. Ellins would be 
 goin out to Chicago to see him. 
 
 " Mr. Jones, Sir," says I, throwin the pri 
 vate office door wide open so it would take me 
 longer to shut it. 
 
 But Old Hickory don t intend to give me any 
 chance to pipe off the greetin . He just glances 
 casual at Mr. Jones, then fixes them rock-drill
 
 BEING SICCED ON PEECEY 267 
 
 eyes of his on me, jerks his thumb impatient 
 over his shoulder, and waits until there s three 
 inches of fireproof material between me and the 
 scene of the conflict. 
 
 So I strolls back to my chair behind the brass 
 rail and winks mysterious at the lady typists. 
 Two of em giggles nervous. Say, they got 
 more curiosity, them flossy key pounders ! Not 
 one of the bunch but what knew things was 
 doin ; but what it was all about would have 
 taken me a week to explain to em, even if I d 
 known myself. 
 
 And I expect I wouldn t have had more n a 
 vague glimmer, either, if it hadn t been for 
 Piddie. You might know he d play the boob 
 somehow if anything important was on. Say, 
 if he d trotted in there once durin the fore 
 noon he d been in a dozen times; seein that the 
 inkwells was filled, puttin on new desk blotters, 
 and such fool things as that. Yet about three- 
 fifteen, right in the middle of the bout, he has 
 to answer a ring, and it turns out he s forgot 
 ten some important papers. 
 
 " Here, Boy," says he, comin out peevish, 
 " this must go to Mr. Ellins at once." 
 
 "Huh!" says I, glancin at the file title. 
 " Copy of charter of the Palisades Electric! 
 At once is good. Ought to have been on Mr. 
 Ellins s desk hours ago." 
 
 Boy! " he explodes threatenin . 
 
 i (
 
 268 ON WITH TORCHY. 
 
 Ah, ditch the hysterics, Peddie ! says I. 
 " It s all right now I m on the job," and with 
 a grin to comfort him I slips through Mr. 
 Robert s room and taps on the door of the 
 boss s private office before bio win in. 
 
 And, say, it looks like I ve arrived almost in 
 time for the final clinch. Old Hickory is leanin 
 forward earnest, his jaw shoved out, his eyes 
 narrowed to slits, and he s poundin the chair 
 arm with his big ham fist. 
 
 11 What I want to know, Jones," he s sayin , 
 11 is simply this: Are your folks going to drop 
 that Palisades road scheme, or aren t you? " 
 
 Course, I can t break into a dialogue at a point 
 like that ; so I closes the door gentle behind me 
 and backs against the knob, watchin George 
 Wesley, who s sittin there with his chin down 
 and his eyes on the rug. 
 
 " Really, Ellins," says he, " I can t give you 
 an answer to that. I er I must refer you to 
 our Mr. Sturgis." 
 
 "Eh?" snaps old Hickory. "Sturgis! 
 Who the syncopated sculpins is Sturgis? 
 
 " Why," says Mr. Jones, " Percey J. Sturgis. 
 He is my personal agent in all such matters, 
 and this well, this happens to be his pet enter 
 prise." 
 
 " But it would parallel our proposed West 
 Point line," says Mr. Ellins. 
 
 " I know," says G. Wesley, sighin weary.
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 269 
 
 " But he secured his charter for this two years 
 ago, and I promised to back him. He insists 
 on pushing it through too. I can t very well 
 call him off, you see." 
 
 " Can t, eh? " raps out Old Hickory. " Then 
 let me try. Send for him." 
 
 " No use," says Mr. Jones. " He under 
 stands your attitude. He wouldn t come. I 
 should advise, if you have any proposal to make, 
 that you send a representative to him." 
 
 " I go to him," snorts Mr. Ellins, " to this 
 understrapper of yours, this Mr. Percey 
 
 " Sturgis," puts in George Wesley. " He 
 has offices in our building. And, really, it s the 
 only way. 
 
 Old Hickory glares and puffs like he was 
 goin to blow a cylinder head. But that s just 
 what Hickory Ellins don t do at a time like this. 
 When you think he s nearest to goin up with a 
 bang, that s the time when he s apt to calm 
 down sudden and shift tactics. He does now. 
 Motionin me to come to the front, he takes the 
 envelope I hands over, glances at it thoughtful 
 a second, and then remarks casual : 
 
 " Very well, Jones. I ll send a representa 
 tive to your Mr. Sturgis. I ll send Torchy, 
 here. 
 
 I don t know which of us gasped louder, me 
 or George Wesley. Got him in the short ribs,
 
 270 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 that proposition did. But, say, he s a game 
 old sport, even if the papers are callin him. 
 everything from highway robber to yellow 
 dog. He shrugs his shoulders and bows 
 polite. 
 
 " As you choose, Ellins," says he. 
 
 Maybe he thinks it s a bluff; but it s nothing 
 like that. 
 
 " Boy," says Old Hickory, handin back the 
 envelope, " go find Mr. Percey J. Sturgis, ex 
 plain to him that the president of the P., B. & 
 E. is bound under a personal agreement not to 
 parallel any lines in which the Corrugated holds 
 a one-third interest. Tell him I demand that 
 he quit on this Palisades route. If he won t, 
 offer to buy his blasted charter. Bid up to one 
 hundred thousand, then phone me. Got all 
 that? " 
 
 " I could say it backwards," says I. " Shake 
 the club first; then wave the kale at him. Do 
 I take a flyin start? " 
 
 " Go now," says Old Hickory. " We will 
 wait here until five. If he wants to know who 
 you are, tell him you re my office boy." 
 
 Wa n t that rubbin in the salt, though? 
 But it ain t safe to stir up Hickory Ellins un 
 less you got him tied to a post, and even then 
 you want to use a long stick. As I sails out and 
 grabs my new fall derby off the peg Piddie 
 asks breathless:
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 271 
 
 " What s the matter now, and where are you 
 off to? " 
 
 " Outside business for the boss," says I. 
 " Buyin up a railroad for him, that s all." 
 
 I left him purple in the face, dashes across 
 to the Subway, and inside of fifteen minutes I m 
 listenin fidgety while a private secretary ex 
 plains how Mr. Sturgis is just leavin town on 
 important business and can t possibly see me 
 today. 
 
 II Deah-uh me! " says I. " How distressing 
 Say, you watch me flag him on the jump." 
 
 " But I ve just told you," insists the secre 
 tary, " that Mr. Sturgis cannot " 
 
 " Ah, mooshwaw! " says I. " This is a case 
 of must see? If you put me out I ll lay for 
 him on the way to the elevator." 
 
 Course with some parties that might be a 
 risky tackle ; but anyone with a front name like 
 Percey I m takin a chance on. Percey! List 
 ens like one of the silky-haired kind that wears 
 heliotrope silk socks, don t it? But, say, what 
 finally shows up is a wide, heavy built gent 
 with a big, homespun sort of face, crispy brown 
 hair a little long over the ears, and the steadiest 
 pair of bright brown eyes I ever saw. Nothing 
 fancy or frail about Percey J. Sturgis. He s 
 solid and substantial, from his wide-soled No. 
 10 s up to the crown of his seven three-quarter 
 hat. He has a raincoat thrown careless over
 
 272 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 one arm, and he s smokin a cigar as big and 
 black as any of Old Hickory s. 
 
 " Well, what is it, Son? " says he in one of 
 them deep barytones that you feel all the way 
 through to your backbone. 
 
 And this is what I ve been sent out either to 
 scare off or buy up! Still, you can t die but 
 once. 
 
 "I m from Mr. Ellins of the Corrugated 
 Trust," says I. 
 
 " Ah! " says he, smilin easy. 
 
 Well, considerin how my knees was wabblin , 
 I expect I put the proposition over fairly 
 strong. 
 
 * You may tell Mr. Ellins for me, says he, 
 41 that I don t intend to quit." 
 
 " Then it s a case of buy," says I. " What s 
 the charter worth, spot cash? 
 
 " Sorry," says he, " but I m too busy to talk 
 about that just now. I m just starting for 
 North Jersey." 
 
 " Suppose I trail along a ways then? " says 
 I. " Mr. Ellins is waitin for an answer." 
 
 " Is he? " says Percey J. " Then come, if 
 you wish." And what does he do but tow me 
 down to a big tourin car and wave me into one 
 of the back seats with him. Listens quiet to all 
 I ve got to say too, while we re tearin uptown, 
 moddin his head now and then, with them wide- 
 set brown eyes of his watchin me amused and
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 273 
 
 curious. But the scare I m tryin to throw into 
 him don t seem to take effect at all. 
 
 " Let s see," says he, as we rolls onto the 
 Fort Lee ferry, * just what is your official posi 
 tion with the Corrugated! " 
 
 I d planned to shoot it at him bold and crush- 
 in . But somehow it don t happen that way. 
 " Head office boy," says I, blushin apologizing 
 " but Mr. Ellins sent me out himself." 
 
 " Indeed? " says he. " Another of his orig 
 inal ideas. A brilliant man, Mr. Ellins." 
 
 " He s some stayer in a scrap, believe me! " 
 says I. " And he s got the harpoon out for this 
 Palisades road." 
 
 " So have a good many others," says Mr. 
 Sturgis, chucklin . " In fact, I don t mind ad 
 mitting that I am as near to being beaten on 
 this enterprise as I ve ever been on anything in 
 my life. But if I am beaten, it will not be by 
 Mr. Ellins. It will be by a hard-headed old 
 Scotch farmer who owns sixty acres of scrubby 
 land which I must cross in order to complete 
 my right of way. He won t sell a foot. I ve 
 been trying for six months to get in touch with 
 him; but he s as stubborn as a cedar stump. 
 And if I don t run a car over rails before next 
 June my charter lapses. So I m going up now 
 to try a personal interview. If I fail, my char 
 ter isn t worth a postage stamp. But, win or 
 lose, it isn t for sale to Hickory Ellins."
 
 274 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 He wa n t ugly about it. He just states the 
 case calm and conversational ; but somehow you 
 was dead sure he meant it. 
 
 11 All right," says I. " Then maybe when I 
 see how you come out I ll have something defi 
 nite to report." 
 
 " You should," says he. 
 
 That s where we dropped the subject. It s 
 some swell ride we had up along the top of the 
 Palisades, and on and on until we re well across 
 the State line into New York. Along about 
 four- thirty he says we re most there. We was 
 rollin through a jay four corners, where the 
 postoffice occupies one window of the gen ral 
 store, with the Masonic Lodge overhead, when 
 alongside the road we comes across a little tow- 
 headed girl, maybe eight or nine, pawin around 
 in the grass and sobbin doleful. 
 
 " Hold up, Martin," sings out Mr. Sturgis to 
 the chauffeur, and Martin jams on his emer 
 gency so the brake drums squeal. 
 
 What do you guess? Why Percey J. climbs 
 out, asks the kid gentle what all the woe is 
 about, and discovers that she s lost a whole 
 nickel that Daddy has given her to buy lolly- 
 pops with on account of its bein her birthday. 
 
 " Now that s too bad, isn t it, little one? " 
 says Mr. Sturgis. " But I guess we can fix 
 that. Come on, Martin, take us back to the 
 store."
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 275 
 
 Took out his handkerchief, Percey did, and 
 swabbed off the tear stains, all the while talkin 
 low and soothin to the kid, until he got her 
 calmed down. And when they came out of the 
 store she was carryin a pound box of choc late 
 creams tied up flossy with a pink ribbon. With 
 her eyes bugged and so tickled she can t say a 
 word, she lets go of his hand and dashes back 
 up the road, most likely bent on showin the 
 folks at home the results of the miracle that s 
 happened to her. 
 
 That s the kind of a guy Percey J. Sturgis is, 
 even when he has worries of his own. You d 
 most thought he was due for a run of luck after 
 a kind act like that. But someone must have 
 had their fingers crossed; for as Martin backs 
 up to turn around he connects a rear tire with 
 a broken ginger ale bottle and s-s-s-sh! out 
 goes eighty-five pounds pressure to the square 
 inch. No remark from Mr. Sturgis. He lights 
 a fresh cigar and for twenty-five minutes by the 
 dash clock Martin is busy shiftin that husky 
 shoe. 
 
 So we re some behind schedule when we pulls 
 up under the horse chestnut trees a quarter 
 of a mile beyond in front of a barny, weather- 
 beaten old farmhouse where there s a sour- 
 faced, square-jawed old pirate sittin in a home 
 made barrel chair smokin his pipe and scowlin* 
 gloomy at the world in gen ral. It s Eoss him-
 
 276 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 self. Percey J. don t waste any hot air tryin 
 to melt him. He tells the old guy plain and sim 
 ple who he is and what he s after. 
 
 " Dinna talk to me, Mon," says Ross. "I m 
 no sellin the farm." 
 
 " May I ask your reasons? " says Mr. 
 Sturgis. 
 
 Ross frowns at him a minute without sayin 
 a word. Then he pries the stubby pipe out from 
 the bristly whiskers and points a crooked finger 
 toward a little bunch of old apple trees on a low 
 knoll. 
 
 " Yon s my reason, Mon," says he solemn. 
 " Yon wee white stone. Three bairns and the 
 good wife lay under it. I m no sae youthful 
 mysel . And when it s time for me to go I d 
 be sleepin peaceful, with none o your rattlin 
 trolley cars comin near. That s why, Mon." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Ross," says Percey J. "I 
 can appreciate your sentiments. However, our 
 line would run through the opposite side of your 
 farm, away over there. All we ask is a fifty- 
 foot strip across your " 
 
 " You canna have it," says Ross decided, in- 
 sertin the pipe once more. 
 
 Which is where most of us would have weak 
 ened, I expect. Not Mr. Sturgis. 
 
 " Just a moment, Friend Ross," says he. "I 
 suppose you know I have the P., B. & R. back 
 of me, and it s more than likely that your neigh-
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 277 
 
 bors have said things about us. There is some 
 ground for prejudice too. Our recent stock 
 deals look rather bad from the outside. There 
 have been other circumstances that are not in 
 our favor. But I want to assure you that this 
 enterprise is a genuine, honest attempt to bene 
 fit you and your community. It is my own. It 
 is part of the general policy of the road for 
 which I am quite willing to be held largely re 
 sponsible. Why, I ve had this project for a 
 Palisades trolley road in mind ever since I came 
 on here a poor boy, twenty-odd years ago, and 
 took my first trip down the Hudson. This ought 
 to be a rich, prosperous country here. It isn t. 
 A good electric line, such as I propose to build, 
 equipped with heavy passenger cars and run 
 ning a cheap freight service, would develop this 
 section. It would open to the public a hundred- 
 mile trip that for scenic grandeur could be 
 equaled nowhere in this country. Are you go 
 ing to stand in the way, Mr. Eoss, of an enter 
 prise such as that? " 
 
 Yep, he was. He puffs away just as mulish 
 as ever. 
 
 Of course, goes on Percey, " it s nothing to 
 you ; but the one ambition of my life has been to 
 build this road. I want to do for this district 
 what some of our great railroad builders did for 
 the big West. I m not a city-bred theorist, nor a 
 Wall Street stock manipulator. I was born in
 
 278 ON WITH TOUCHY 
 
 a one-story log house on a Minnesota farm, and 
 when I was a boy we hauled our corn and pota 
 toes thirty miles to a river steamboat. Then the 
 railroad came through. Now my brothers sack 
 their crops almost within sight of a grain ele 
 vator. They live in comfortable houses, send 
 their children to good schools. So do their 
 neighbors. The railroad has turned a wilder 
 ness into a civilized community. On a smaller 
 scale here is a like opportunity. If you will let 
 us have that fifty-foot strip " 
 
 " Na, Mon, not an inch! " breaks in Eoss. 
 
 How he could stick to it against that smooth 
 line of talk I couldn t see. Why, say, it was the 
 most convincing heart- throbby stuff I d ever 
 listened to, and if it had been me I d made 
 Percey J. a present of the whole shootin match. 
 
 " But see here, Mr. Eoss," goes on Sturgis, 
 " I would like to show you just what we " 
 
 11 Daddy! Daddy! " comes a pipin hail from 
 somewhere inside, and out dances a barefooted 
 youngster in a faded blue and white dress. It s 
 the little heroine of the lost nickel. For a 
 second she gawps at us sort of scared, and al 
 most decides to scuttle back into the house. 
 Then she gets another look at Percey J., smiles 
 shy, and sticks one finger in her mouth. Percey 
 he smiles back encouragin and holds out a big, 
 friendly hand. That wins her. 
 
 Oh, Daddy ! " says she, puttin her little fist 
 
 i t
 
 BEING SICCED ON PERCEY 279 
 
 in Percey s confidential. " It s the mans what 
 gimme the candy in the pitty box ! 
 
 As for Daddy Boss, he stares like he couldn t 
 believe his eyes. But there s the youngster, 
 cuddled up against Percey J. s knee and glanc- 
 in up at him admirin . 
 
 "Is ut so, Mon? " demands Ross husky. 
 " Was it you give the lass the sweeties? " 
 
 11 Why, yes," admitted Sturgis. 
 
 " Then you shall be knowin ," goes on Ross, 
 11 that yon lassie is all I have left in the world 
 that I care a bawbee for. You ve done it, Mon. 
 Tak as much of the farm as you like at your 
 own price." 
 
 Well, that s the way Percey J. Sturgis won 
 out. A lucky stroke, eh? Take it from me, 
 there was more n that in it. Hardly a word he 
 says durin the run back; for he s as quiet and 
 easy when he s on top as when he s the under 
 dog. We shakes hands friendly as he drops 
 me uptown long after dark. 
 
 I had all night to think it over; but when I 
 starts for Old Hickory s office next mornin I 
 hadn t doped out how I was goin to put it. 
 
 " Well, what about Percey? " says he. 
 
 " He s the goods," says I. 
 
 " Couldn t scare him, eh? " says Old 
 Hickory. 
 
 " Not if I d been a mile high," says I. " He 
 won t sell, either. And say, Mr. Ellins, you
 
 280 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 want to get next to Percey J. The way I look 
 at it, this George Wesley Jones stiff ain t the 
 man behind him; Percey is the man behind 
 Jones." 
 
 " H-m-m-m-m! " says Old Hickory. " I 
 knew there was someone; but I couldn t trace 
 him. So it s Sturgis, eh? That being so, we 
 need him with us." 
 
 " But ain t he tied up with Jones? " says I. 
 
 " Jones is a dead dog," says Old Hickory. 
 " At least, he will be inside of a week." 
 
 That was some prophecy, eh? Read in the 
 papers, didn t you, how G. Wesley cables over 
 his resignation from Baden Two Times? 
 Couldn t stand the strain. The directors are 
 still squabblin over who to put in as head of 
 the P., B. & R.; but if you want to play a 
 straight inside tip put your money on Percey 
 J. Uh-huh! Him and Old Hickory have been 
 confabbin in there over an hour now, and if 
 -he hadn t flopped to our side would Mr. Ellins 
 be tellin him funny stories? Anyway, we re 
 backin that Palisades line now, and it s goin 
 through with a whoop. 
 
 Which is earnin some int rest on a pound of 
 choc lates and a smile. What?
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKKD THE PLOT 
 
 I KNEW something or other outside of busi 
 ness was puttin hectic spots in Old Hickory s 
 disposition these last few days; but not until 
 late yesterday did I guess it was Cousin 
 Inez. 
 
 I expect the Ellins fam ly wasn t any too- 
 proud of Cousin Inez, to start with ; for among 
 other things she s got a matrimonial record. 
 Three hubbies so far, I understand, two safe in 
 a neat kept plot out in Los Angeles ; one in the 
 discards and she s just been celebratin the 
 decree by travelin abroad. They hadn t seen 
 much of her for years; but durin this New 
 York stopover visit she seemed to be makin up 
 for lost time. 
 
 About four foot eight Cousin Inez was in her 
 French heels, and fairly thick through. Maybe 
 it was the way she dressed, but from just below 
 her double chin she looked the same size all the 
 way down. Tie a Bulgarian sash on a sack of 
 bran, and you ve got the model. Inez was a 
 bear for sashes too. Another thing she was; 
 
 281
 
 :282 ON WITH TOBCHY 
 
 istrong on was hair. Course, the store blond 
 part didn t quite match the sandy gray that 
 grew underneath, and the near-auburn frontis 
 piece was another tint still; but all that added 
 variety and quantity and what more could you 
 .ask? 
 
 Her bein some pop-eyed helped you to re 
 member Inez the second time. About the size 
 -of hard-boiled eggs, peeled, them eyes of hers 
 was, and most the same color. They say she s 
 a wise old girl though, carries on three dif- 
 f rent business propositions left by her late 
 string of husbands, goes in deep for classi 
 cal music, and is some kind of a high priest 
 ess in the theosophy game. A bit faddy, 
 I judged, with maybe a few bats in her 
 belfry. 
 
 But when it comes to investin some of her 
 surplus funds in Corrugated preferred she has 
 to have a good look at the books first, and makes 
 Cousin Hickory Ellins explain some items in 
 the annual report. Three or four times she was 
 down* to the gen ral offices before the deal went 
 through. 
 
 This last visit of hers was something diff rent, 
 ihough. 
 
 I took the message down to Martin, the chauf 
 feur myself. It was a straight call on the car 
 pet. " Tell Cousin Inez the boss wants to see 
 her before she goes out this afternoon," says
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 283 
 
 I, " and wait with the limousine until she 
 comes." 
 
 Old Hickory was pacin his private office, 
 scowlin and grouchy, as he sends the word, and 
 it didn t take any second sight to guess he was 
 peeved about something. I has to snicker too 
 when Cousin Inez floats in, smilin mushy as 
 usual. 
 
 She wa n t smilin any when she drifts out 
 half an hour later. She s some flushed behind 
 the ears, and her complexion was a little 
 streaked under the eyes. She holds her chin 
 up defiant, though, and slams the brass gate 
 behind her. She d hardly caught the elevator 
 before there comes a snappy call for me on the 
 buzzer. 
 
 " Boy," says Old Hickory, glarin at me 
 savage, * who is this T. Virgil Bunn ? 
 
 Almost had me tongue-tied for a minute, he 
 shoots it at me so sudden. " Eh? " says I. 
 " T. Virgil? Why, he s the sculptor poet." 
 
 " So I gather from this thing," says he, 
 wavin a thin book bound in baby blue and gold. 
 " But what in the name of Sardanapalus and 
 Xenophon is a sculptor poet, anyway? " 
 
 " Why, it s it s well, that s the way the 
 papers always give it," says I. " Beyond that 
 I pass." 
 
 " Humph !?> grunts Old Hickory. "Then 
 perhaps you ll tell me if this is poetry. Listen 1
 
 284 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Like necklaces of diamonds hung 
 About my lady sweet, 
 So do we string our votive arcs 
 All up and down each street. 
 They shine upon the young and old, 
 The fair, the sad, the grim, the gay; 
 Who gather here from far and near 
 To worship in our Great White Way. 
 
 " Now what s your honest opinion of that, 
 Son? Is it poetry? 
 
 " Listens something like it," says I; " but I 
 wouldn t want to say for sure." 
 
 * Nor I, says Mr. Ellins. All I m certain 
 of is that it isn t sculpture, and that if I should 
 read any more of it I d be seasick. But in T. 
 Virgil Bunn himself I have an active and per 
 sonal interest. Anything to offer? " 
 
 " Not a glimmer," says I. 
 
 " And I suppose you could find nothing 
 out? " he goes on. 
 
 " I could make a stab," says I. 
 
 "Make a deep one, then," says he, slippin 
 over a couple of tens for an expense fund. 
 
 And, say, I knew when Old Hickory begins by 
 unbeltin so reckless that he don t mean any 
 casual skimmin through club annuals for a re 
 port. 
 
 " What s the idea? " says I. " Is it for a 
 financial ratin , or a reg lar dragnet of past 
 performances? " 
 
 " Everything you can discover without tak 
 ing him apart," says Old Hickory. " In short,
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 285 
 
 I want to know the kind of person who can 
 cause a fifty-five-year-old widow with grown 
 sons to make a blinkety blinked fool of herself." 
 
 1 He s a charmer, eh? " says I. 
 
 " Evidently," says Mr. Ellins. " Behold this 
 inscription here, ; To dear Inez, My Lady of 
 the Unfettered Soul from Virgie. Get the 
 point, Son? To dear Inez ! Bah! Is he 
 color blind, or what ails him? Of course it s 
 her money he s after, and for the sake of her 
 boys I m going to block him. There! You see 
 what I want? " 
 
 Sure ! says I. You got to have details 
 about Virgie before you can ditch him. Well, 
 I ll see what I can dig up." 
 
 Maybe it strikes you as a chesty bluff for a 
 juvenile party like me to start with no more 
 clew than that to round up in a few hours what 
 a high-priced sleuth agency would take a week 
 for. But, say, I didn t stand guard on the Sun 
 day editor s door two years with my eyes and 
 ears shut. Course, there s always the city and 
 phone directories to start with. Next you turn 
 to the Who book if you suspect he s ever done 
 any public stunt. But, say, swallow that Who 
 dope cautious. They let em write their own 
 tickets in that, you know, and you got to make 
 allowances for the size of the hat-band. 
 
 I d got that far, discovered that Virgie owned 
 up to bein thirty-five and a bachelor, that he
 
 286 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 was born in Schoharie, son of Telemachus J. 
 and Matilda Smith Bunn, and that he d once 
 been president of the village literary club, when 
 I remembers the clippin files we used to have 
 back on Newspaper Row. So down I hikes 
 and who should I stack up against, driftin 
 gloomy through the lower lobby, but Whity 
 Meeks, that used to be the star man on the 
 Sunday sheet. Course, it wa n t any miracle; 
 for Whity s almost as much of a fixture 
 there as Old Gluefoot, the librarian, or the 
 finger marks on the iron pillars in the press 
 room. 
 
 A sad example of blighted ambitions, Whity 
 is. When I first knew him he had a fresh one 
 every Monday mornin , and they ranged all the 
 way from him plannin to be a second Dicky 
 Davis to a scheme he had for hookin up with 
 Tammany and bein sent to Congress. Clever 
 boy too. He could dash off pomes that was al 
 most good enough to print, dope out the first 
 two acts of a play that was bound to make his 
 fortune if he could ever finish it, and fake 
 speeches that he d never heard a word of. 
 
 When he got to doin Wall Street news, 
 though, and absorbed the idea that he could 
 stack his little thirty per against the system and 
 break the bucketshops well, that was his finish. 
 Two killings that he made by chance, and he was 
 as good as chained to the ticker for life. No
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 28T 
 
 more new rosy dreams for him: always the 
 same one, of the day when he was goin to- 
 show Sully how a cotton corner really ought to* 
 be pulled off, a day when the closin gong would 
 find him with the City Bank in one fist and the 
 Subtreasury in the other. You ve met that kind,, 
 maybe. Only Whity always tried to dress the 
 part, in a sporty shepherd plaid, with a checked 
 hat and checked silk socks to match. He has the 
 same regalia on now, with a carnation in his 
 buttonhole. 
 
 "Well, mounting margins! " says he, as I 
 swings him round by the arm. " Torchyl 
 Whither away? Come down to buy publicity 
 space for the Corrugated, have you? " 
 
 " Not in a rag like yours, Whity," says I, 
 " when we own stock in two real papers. I m 
 out on a little private gumshoe work for the 
 boss." 
 
 " Sounds thrilling," says he. " Any copy 
 in it?" 
 
 "I d be chatterin it to you, wouldn t I? " 
 says I. " Nix! Just plain fam ly scrap over 
 whether Cousin Inez shall marry again or not. 
 My job is to get something on the guy. Don t 
 happen to have any special dope on T. Virgil 
 Bunn, the sculptor poet, do you? " 
 
 Whity stares at me. "Do I?" says he. 
 " Say! " Then he leads me over between the 
 phone booth and the cigar stand, flashes an
 
 288 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 assignment pad, and remarks, " Gaze on that 
 second item, my boy." 
 
 I Woof! That s him, all right," says I. 
 " But what s a bouillabaisse tea? " 
 
 " Heaven and Virgil Bunn only know," says 
 Whity. " But that doesn t matter. Think of 
 the subtle irony of Fate that sends me up to 
 make a column story out of Virgie Bunn ! Me, 
 of all persons! " 
 
 I 1 Well, why not you ! says I. 
 "Why?" says Whity. "Because I made 
 
 the fellow. He why, he is my joke, the biggest 
 scream I ever put over my joke, understand? 
 And now this adumbrated ass of a Quigley, 
 who s been sent on here from St. Louis to take 
 the city desk, he falls for Virgie as a genuine 
 personage. Not only that, but picks me out to 
 cover this phony tea of his. And the stinging 
 part is, if I don t I get canned, that s all." 
 
 1 1 Ain t he the goods, then ? says I. What 
 about this sculptor poet business? 
 
 " Bunk," says Whity, " nothing but bunk. 
 Of course, he does putter around with modeling 
 clay a bit, and writes the sort of club-footed 
 verse they put in high school monthlies." 
 
 Gets it printed in a book, though, says I. 
 * I ve seen one." 
 
 "Why not?" says Whity. "Anyone can 
 who has the three hundred to pay for plates 
 and binding. < Sonnets of the City, wasn t it?
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 289 
 
 Didn t I get my commission from the Easy 
 Mark Press for steering him in ? Why, I even 
 scratched off some of those things to help him 
 pad out the book with. But, say, Torchy, you 
 ought to remember him. You were on the door 
 then, tall, wide-shouldered freak, with aureole 
 hair, and a close cropped Vandyke? " 
 
 " Not the one who wore the Wild West lid 
 and talked like he had a mouthful of hot oat 
 meal? " says I. 
 
 " Your description of Virgie s English ac 
 cent is perfect," says Whity. 
 
 1 i Well, well ! says I. * The mushbag, we 
 used to call him." 
 
 Charmingly accurate again ! says Whity. 
 " Verily beside him the quivering jellyfish of 
 the salt sea was as the armored armadillo of the 
 desert. Soft? You could poke a finger through 
 him anywhere." 
 
 " But what was his game? " says I. 
 
 " It wasn t a game, my son," says Whity. 
 " It was a mission in life, to get things printed 
 about himself. Had no more modesty about it, 
 you know, than a circus press agent. Perfectly 
 frank and ingenuous, Virgie was. He d just 
 come and ask you to put it in that he was a great 
 man just like that! The chief used to froth 
 at the mouth on sight of him. But Virgie 
 looked funny to me in those days. I used to 
 jolly him along, smoke his Coronas, let him take
 
 290 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 me out to swell feeds. Then when they gave 
 Merrow charge of the Sunday side, just for a 
 josh I did a half -page special about Virgie, 
 called him the sculptor poet, threw in some 
 views of him in his studio, and quoted some of 
 his verse that I d fixed up. It got by. Virgie was 
 so pleased he wanted to give a banquet for me; 
 but I got him to go in on a little winter wheat 
 flier instead. He didn t drop much. After that 
 I d slip in a paragraph about him now and then, 
 always calling him the sculptor poet. The tag 
 stuck. Other papers began to use it; until, first 
 thing I knew, Virgie was getting away with it. 
 Honest, I just invented him. And now he 
 passes for the real thing! " 
 
 " Where you boobed, then, was in not filin 
 copyright papers," says I. " But how does he 
 make it pay? " 
 
 " He doesn t," says Whity. " Listen, Son, 
 and I will divulge the hidden mystery in the 
 life of T. Virgil Bunn. Cheese factories ! Half 
 a dozen or more of em, up Schoharie way. Left 
 to him, you know, by Pa Bunn ; a coarse, rough 
 person, I am told, who drank whey out of a five- 
 gallon can, but was cute enough to import 
 Camembert labels and make his own boxes. He 
 passed on a dozen years ago ; but left the cheese 
 factories working night shifts. Virgie draws 
 his share quarterly. He tried a year or two at 
 some Rube college, and then went abroad to
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 291 
 
 loiter. While there he exposed himself to the 
 sculptor s art; but it didn t take very hard. 
 However, Virgie came back and acquired the 
 studio habit. And you can t live for long in a 
 studio, you know, without getting the itch to see 
 yourself in print. That s what brought Virgie 
 to me. And now! Well, now I have to go to 
 Virgie." 
 
 " Ain t as chummy with him as you was, I 
 take it? " says I. 
 
 Whity shrugs his shoulders disgusted. " The 
 saphead ! says he. Just because we slipped 
 up on a few stock deals he got cold feet. I 
 haven t seen him for a year. I wonder how 
 he 11 take it ? But you mentioned a Cousin Inez, 
 didn t you? " 
 
 I gives Whity a hasty sketch of the piece, 
 mentionin no more names, but suggestin that 
 Virgie stood to connect with an overgrown 
 widow s mite if there wa n t any sudden inter 
 ference. 
 
 " Ha! " says Whity, speaMn tragic through 
 his teeth. " An idea! He s put the spell on a 
 rich widow, has he? Now if I could only man 
 age to queer this autumn leaf romance it would 
 even up for the laceration of pride that I see 
 coming my way tonight. Describe the fair 
 one." 
 
 I could point her out if you could smuggle 
 me in," I suggests.
 
 292 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " A cinch! " says he. " You re Barry of the 
 City Press. Here, stick some copy paper in 
 your pocket. Take a few notes, that s all." 
 
 11 It s a fierce disguise to put on," says I; 
 " but I guess I can stand it for an evenin ." 
 
 So about eight-thirty we meets again, and 
 proceeds to hunt up this studio buildin over 
 in the East 30 s. It ain t any bum Bohemian 
 ranch, either, but a ten-story elevator joint, 
 with clipped bay trees on each side of the front 
 door. Virgie s is a top floor suite, with a boy 
 in buttons outside and a French maid to take 
 your things. 
 
 1 Gee ! " I whispers to Whity as we pushes 
 in. " There s some swell mob collecting eh? " 
 
 Whity is speechless, though, and when he gets 
 his breath again all he can do is mumble husky, 
 " Teddy Van Alstyne! Mrs. Cromer Paige! 
 The Bertie Gardiners! " 
 
 They acted like a mixed crowd, though, gazin* 
 around at each other curious, groupin into lit 
 tle knots, and chattin under their breath. 
 Bein gents of the press, we edges into a corner 
 behind a palm and waits to see what happens. 
 
 " There comes Cousin Inez! " says I, nudgin 
 Whity. " See? The squatty dame with the 
 pearl ropes over her hair." 
 
 " Sainted Billikens, what a make-up! " says 
 Whity. 
 
 And, believe me, Cousin Inez was dolled for
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 293 
 
 fair. She d peeled for the fray, as you might 
 say. And if the dinky shoulder straps held it 
 was all right; but if one of em broke there d 
 sure be some hurry call for four yards of burlap 
 to do her up in. She seems smilin and happy, 
 though, and keeps glancin expectant at the red 
 velvet draperies in the back of the room. 
 
 Sure enough, exactly on the tick of nine, the 
 curtains part, and in steps the hero of the 
 evenin . Dress suit? Say, you don t know 
 Virgie. He s wearin a reg lar monk s outfit, 
 of some coarse brown stuff belted in with a thick 
 rope and open wide at the neck. 
 
 " For the love of beans, look at his feet! " 
 I whispers. 
 
 11 Sandals," says Whity, " and no socks! 
 Blessed if Virgie isn t going the limit! " 
 
 There s a chorus of " Ah-h-h-h s ! " as he 
 steps out, and then comes a buzz of whispers 
 which might have been compliments, and might 
 not. But it don t faze Virgie. He goes bowin 
 and handshakin through the mob, smilin 
 mushy on all and several, and actin as pleased 
 with himself as if he d taken the prize at a 
 fancy dress ball. You should have seen Cousin 
 Inez when he gets to her! 
 
 " Oh, you utterly clever man! " she gushes. 
 What a genuine genius you are ! 
 
 11 Dear, sweet lady! " says he. "It is in 
 deed gracious of you to say so.
 
 294 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 Help ! groans Whity, like he had a pain. 
 " Ah, buck up ! " says I. " It ll be your turn 
 soon." 
 
 I was wonderin how Virgie was goin to sim 
 mer down enough to pass Whity the chilly 
 greetin ; for he s just bubblin over with kind 
 words and comic little quips. But, say, he don t 
 even try to shade it. 
 
 " Ah, Whity, my boy! " says he, extendin 
 the cordial paw. Charming of you to look me 
 up once more, perfectly charming! : 
 
 " Rot! " growls Whity. " You know I was 
 sent up here to do this blooming spread of 
 yours. What sort of fake is it, anyway! 
 
 II Ha, ha! Same old Whity! " says Virgil, 
 poundin him hearty on the shoulder. " But 
 you re always welcome, my boy. As for the 
 tea well, one of my little affairs, you know, 
 just a few friends dropping in feast of reason, 
 flow of wit, all that sort of thing. You know 
 how to put it. Don t forget my costume 
 picked it up at a Trappist monastery in the 
 Pyrenees. I must give you some photos 
 I ve had taken in it. Ah, another knight 
 of the pencil? " and he glances inquirin 
 at me. 
 
 11 City Press," says Whity. 
 
 " Fine! " says Virgie, beamin . " Well, you 
 boys make yourselves quite at home. I ll send 
 Marie over with cigars and cigarettes. She ll
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 295 
 
 help you to describe any of the ladies costumes 
 you may care to mention. Here s a list of the 
 invited guests too. Now I must be stirring 
 about. Au revoir." 
 
 ( Ass ! snarls Whity under his breath. If 
 I don t give him a roast, though, one of the 
 veiled sarcastic kind that will get past! And 
 we must find some way of queering him with 
 that rich widow." 
 
 " Goin to be some contract, Whity, believe 
 me! " says I. " Look how she s taggin him 
 around! " 
 
 And, say, Cousin Inez sure had the scoopnet 
 out for him ! Every move he makes she s right 
 on his heels, gigglin and simperin at all his 
 sappy speeches and hangin onto his arm part 
 of the time. Folks was nudgin each other and 
 pointin her out gleeful, and I could easy frame 
 up the sort of reports that had set Old Hick 
 ory s teeth on edge. 
 
 T. Virgil, though, seems to be havin the time 
 of his life. He exhibits some clay models, either 
 dancin girls or a squad of mounted cops, I 
 couldn t make out which, and he lets himself 
 be persuaded to read two or three chunks out of 
 his sonnets, very dramatic. Cousin Inez leads 
 the applause. Then, strikin a pose, he claps 
 his hands, the velvet curtains are slid one side, 
 and in comes a French chef luggin a tray with 
 a whackin big casserole on it.
 
 296 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Voila! " sings out Virgie. " The bouilla 
 baisse! " 
 
 Marie gets busy passin around bowls and 
 spoons, and the programme seems to be for the 
 guests to line up while Virgie gives each a 
 helpin out of a long-handled silver ladle. It 
 smells mighty good; so I pushes in with my 
 bowl. What do you guess I drew? A portion 
 of the tastiest fish soup you ever met, with a 
 lobster claw and a couple of clams in it. 
 M-m-m-m ! 
 
 " He may be a punk poet," says I to Whity; 
 " but he s a good provider." 
 
 " Huh! " growls Whity, who seems to be 
 sore on account of the hit Virgie s makin . 
 
 Next thing I knew along drifts Cousin Inez, 
 who has sort of been crowded away from her 
 hero, and camps down on the other side of 
 Whity. 
 
 " Isn t this just too unique for words? " she 
 gushes. " And is not dear Virgil perfectly 
 charming tonight? " 
 
 " Oh, he s a bear at this sort of thing, all 
 right," says Whity, " this and making cheese." 
 
 11 Cheese! " echoes Cousin Inez. 
 
 " Sure! " says Whity. " Hasn t he told you 
 about his cheese factories? Ask him." 
 
 " But but I understood that that he was 
 a poet," says she, " a sculptor poet."
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 297 
 
 " Bah! " says Whity. " He couldn t make 
 his salt at either. All just a pose! " 
 
 " Why, I can hardly believe it," says Cousin 
 Inez. " I don t believe it, either." 
 
 " Then read his poetry and look at his sa 
 called groups," goes on Whity. 
 
 " But he s such a talented, interesting man," 
 insists Inez. 
 
 " With such an interesting family too," says 
 Whity, winkin . 
 
 " Family! " gasps Cousin Inez. 
 
 11 Wife and six children," says Whity, lyin r 
 easy. 
 
 " Oh oh! " squeals Inez in that shrill, raspy 
 voice of hers. 
 
 " They say he beats his wife, though," adds 
 Whity. " 
 
 * Oh ! oh ! squeals Inez, again, higher and 
 shriller than ever. I expect she d been more or 
 less keyed up before; but this adds the finishin r 
 touch. And she lets em out reckless. 
 
 Course, everyone stops chatterin and looks 
 her way. No wonder! You d thought she was 
 havin a fit. Over rushes Virgil, ladle in 
 hand. 
 
 " My dear Inez! " says he. " What is it? 
 A fishbone? " 
 
 " Monster! " she howls. " Deceiver! Leave 
 me, never let me see your face again ! Oh oh ! 
 Cheese! Six children! Oh oh! " With that
 
 298 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 she tumbles over on Whity and turns purple in 
 the face. 
 
 Say, it was some sensation we had there for 
 a few minutes; but after they d sprinkled her 
 face, and rubbed her wrists, and poured a couple 
 of fingers of brandy into her, she revives. And 
 the first thing she catches sight of is Virgie, 
 standin there lookin puzzled, still holdin the 
 soup ladle. 
 
 " Monster! " she hisses at him. " I know all 
 all ! And I quit you forever ! : 
 
 With that she dashes for the cloakroom, 
 grabs her opera wrap, and beats it for the ele 
 vator. Course, that busts up the show, and 
 inside of half an hour everybody but us has left, 
 and most of em went out snickerin . 
 
 " I I don t understand it at all," says 
 Virgie, rubbin his eyes dazed. " She was talk 
 ing with you, wasn t she, Friend Whity? Was 
 it something you said about me? " 
 
 " Possibly," says Whity, " I may have men 
 tioned your cheese factories; and I m not sure 
 but what I didn t invent a family for you. Just 
 as a joke, of course. You don t mind, I hope? " 
 
 And at that I was dead sure someone was 
 goin to be slapped on the wrist. But, say, all 
 Virgie does is swallow hard a couple of times; 
 and then, as the full scheme of the plot seems to 
 sink in, he beams mushy. 
 
 " Mind? Why, my dear boy," says he, " you
 
 HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT 299 
 
 are my deliverer! I owe you more than I can 
 ever express. Really, you know, that ridiculous 
 old person has been the bane of my existence 
 for the last three weeks. She has fairly 
 haunted me, spoiled all my receptions, and 
 disturbed me greatly. Ever since I met her in 
 Rome last winter she has been at it. Of course 
 I have tried to be nice to her, as I am to every 
 one who er who might help. But I almost 
 fancy she had the idea that I would ah marry 
 her. Really, I believe she did. Thank you a 
 thousand times, Whity, for your joke! If she 
 comes back, tell her I have two wives, a dozen. 
 And have some cigars oh, fill your pockets, 
 my boy. And here the photos showing me in 
 my monk s costume. Be sure to drop in at my 
 next tea. I ll send you word. Good night, and 
 bless you! " 
 
 He didn t push us out. He just held the door 
 open and patted us on the back as we went 
 through. And the next thing we knew we was 
 down on the sidewalk. 
 
 * Double crossed ! groans Whity. * Smoth 
 ered in mush! " 
 
 " As a plotter, Whity," says I, " you re a 
 dub. But if you gunked it one way, you 
 drew a consolation the other. At this stage of 
 the game I guess I m commissioned by a certain 
 party to hand over to you a small token of his 
 esteem."
 
 300 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 "Eh?" says Whity. " Twenty? What 
 for? " 
 
 " Ah, go bull the market with it, and don t 
 ask fool questions! " says I. 
 
 Say, it was a perfectly swell story about Vir- 
 gie s bouillabaisse function on today s society 
 page, double-column half-tone cut and all. I 
 had to grin when I shows it to Mr. Ellins. 
 
 " Were you there, young man? " says he, 
 eyin me suspicious. 
 
 1 1 Yep ! says I. 
 
 "I thought so," says he, " when Cousin 
 Inez came home and began packing her trunks. 
 I take it that affair of hers with the sculptor 
 poet is all off? " 
 
 " Blew up with a bang about ten-thirty 
 p. M.," says I. " Your two tenspots went with 
 it." 
 
 " Huh! " he snorts. " That s as far as I 
 care to inquire. Some day I m going to send 
 you out with a thousand and let you wreck the 
 administration.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 TORCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE 
 
 FIRST off, when I pipes the party in the pale 
 green lid and the fuzzy English topcoat, I 
 thought it was some stray from the House of 
 Lords ; but as it drifts nearer to the brass rail 
 and I gets a glimpse of the mild blue eyes be 
 hind the thick, shell-rimmed glasses, I discovers 
 that it s only Son-in-law Ferdy; you know, 
 hubby to Marjorie Ellins that was. 
 
 "Wat ho ! " says I. * Just in from Lun- 
 non? " 
 
 11 Why, no," says Ferdy, gawpin foolish. 
 " Whatever made you think that? " 
 
 " Then it s a disguise, is it? " says I, eyin 
 the costume critical. 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " says Ferdy peevish. " I told 
 Marjorie I should be stared at. And I just 
 despise being conspicuous, you know! Where s 
 Eobert? " 
 
 " Mr. Eobert ain t due back for an hour yet," 
 says I. " You could catch him at the club, I 
 expect. 
 
 No, no," protests Ferdy hasty. "I I 
 
 301
 
 302 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 couldn t go to the club looking like this. I I 
 couldn t stand the chaff I d get from the fel 
 lows. I ll wait." 
 
 " Suit yourself," says I, towin him into Mr. 
 Robert s private office. " You can shed the 
 heather wrap in here, if you like." 
 
 * I I wish I could, says he. 
 
 "Wha-a-at!" says I. " She ain t sewed 
 you into it, has she? Anyhow, you don t have 
 to keep it buttoned tight under your chin with 
 all this steam heat on." 
 
 " I know," says Ferdy, sighin . " I nearly 
 roasted, coming down in the train. But, you 
 see, it it hides the tie." 
 
 11 Eh? " says I. " Something else Marjorie 
 picked out? Let s have a peek." 
 
 Ferdy blushes painful. " It s awful," he 
 groans, " perfectly awful! " 
 
 11 Not one of these nutty Futurist designs, 
 like a scrambled rainbow shot full of pink polli- 
 wogs? " says I. 
 
 " Worse than that," says Ferdy, unbuttonin 
 the overcoat reluctant. " Look! 
 
 " Zowie! A plush one! " says I. 
 
 Course, they ain t so new. I d seen em in 
 the zippy haberdashers windows early in the 
 fall; but I don t remember havin met one out 
 of captivity before. And this is about the plush- 
 iest affair you could imagine; bright orange 
 and black, and half an inch thick.
 
 TORCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE 303 
 
 1 1 Whiffo ! says I. That is something to 
 have wished onto you ! Looks like a caterpillar 
 in a dream. 
 
 " That s right," says Ferdy. " It s been a 
 perfect nightmare to me ever since Marjorie 
 bought it. But I can t hurt her feelings by re 
 fusing to wear it. And this silly hat too a 
 scarf instead of a band! " 
 
 It s almost pathetic the way Ferdy holds the 
 lid off at arm s length and gazes indignant at it. 
 
 " Draped real sweet, ain t it? " says I. 
 11 But most of the smart chappies are wearin 
 em that way, you know." 
 
 " Not this sickly green shade, though," says 
 Ferdy plaintive. " I wish Marjorie wouldn t 
 get such things for me. I I ve always been 
 rather particular about my hats and ties. I like 
 them quiet, you understand." 
 
 " You would get married, though," says L 
 " But, say, can t you do a duck by changin 
 after you leave home? " 
 
 Seems the idea hadn t occurred to Ferdy. 
 " But how? Where? " says he, brightenin up. 
 
 " In the limousine as you re drivin down to 
 the station," says I. " You could keep an extra 
 outfit in the car. 
 
 " By Jove! " says Ferdy. " Then I could 
 ichange again on the way home, couldn t I! 
 And if Marjorie didn t know, she wouldn t " 
 
 " You ve surrounded the plot of the piece, *
 
 304 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 says I. " Now go to it. There s a gents fur 
 nisher down in the arcade." 
 
 He s halfway out to the elevator before it 
 occurs to him that he ain t responded with any 
 grateful remarks ; so back he comes to tell how 
 much obliged he is. 
 
 11 And, Torchy," he adds, " you know you 
 haven t been out to see baby yet. Why, you 
 must see little Ferdinand! " 
 
 " Ye-e-es, I been meanin to," says I, maybe 
 not wildly enthusiastic. " I expect he s quite 
 a, kid by this time." 
 
 " Eleven months lacking four days," says 
 Ferdy, his face beamin . "Wait! I want to 
 show you his latest picture. Really wonderful 
 youngster, I tell you." 
 
 So I has to inspect a snapshot that Ferdy 
 produces from his pocketbook; and, while it 
 looks about as insignificant as most of em, I 
 pumps up some gushy remarks which seem to 
 make a hit with Ferdy. 
 
 " Couldn t you come out Sunday? " says he. 
 
 " Fraid not," says I. "In fact, I m booked 
 up for quite a spell." 
 
 " Too bad," says Ferdy; " for we re almost 
 alone now, only Peggy and Jane my little 
 nieces, you know and Miss Hemmingway, 
 who " 
 
 " Veet " says I, comin straight up on my 
 toes. " Say, Ferdy, I think I can break away
 
 TOECHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE 305 
 
 Sunday, after all. Ought to see that youngster 
 of yours, hadn t If Must be mighty cute by 
 now." 
 
 " Oh, he is," says Ferdy; " but if you can t 
 come this week " 
 
 11 Got to," says I. " Leven months, and me 
 never so much as chucked him under the chin 
 once ! Gee ! how careless of me ! " 
 
 " All right, Sunday next," says Ferdy. 
 " We shall look for you." 
 
 That was throwin in reverse a little sudden, 
 I admit; but my chances of gettin within 
 hailin distance of Vee ain t so many that I can 
 afford to overlook any bets. Besides, up at 
 Marjorie s is about the only place where I don t 
 have to run the gauntlet goin in, or do a slide 
 for life comin out. She ll shinny on my side 
 every trip, Marjorie will and believe me I 
 need it all ! 
 
 Looked like a special dispensation too, this 
 bid of Ferdy s; for I wanted half an hour s 
 private chat with Vee the worst way just then, 
 to clear up a few things. For instance, my last 
 two letters had come back with " Refused " 
 scratched across the face, and I didn t know 
 whether it was some of Aunty s fine work, or 
 what. Anyway, it s been a couple of months 
 now that the wires have been down between us, 
 and I was more or less anxious to trace the 
 break.
 
 306 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 So Sunday afternoon don t find me mis sin 
 any suburban local. Course, Ferdy s mighty 
 intellect ain t suggested to him anything about 
 askin me out for a meal; so I has to take a 
 chance on what time to land there. But I 
 strikes the mat about two-thirty p. M., and the 
 first one to show up is Marjorie, lookin as 
 plump and bloomin a corn-fed Venus as 
 ever. 
 
 " Why, Torchy! " says she, with business of 
 surprise. 
 
 " Uh-huh," says I. " Special invite of Fer 
 dy s to come see the heir apparent. Didn t he 
 mention it I " 
 
 " Humph! Ferdy! " says Marjorie. " Did 
 you ever know of him remembering anything 
 worthwhile? " 
 
 11 Oh, ho! " says I. "In disgrace, is he? 
 
 " He is," says Marjorie, sniffin scornful. 
 " But it s nice of you to want to see baby. The 
 dear little fellow is just taking his afternoon 
 nap. He wakes up about four, though. 
 
 " Oh, I don t mind waitin a bit," says I. 
 " You know, I m crazy to see that kid." 
 
 " Really! " says Marjorie, beamin delighted. 
 " Then you shall go right up now, while he 
 is " 
 
 " No," says I, holdin up one hand. " I 
 might sneeze, or something. I ll just stick 
 around until he wakes up."
 
 TOECHY GETS A THEOUGH WIEE 307 
 
 " It s too bad," says Marjorie; " but Verona 
 is dressing and " 
 
 " What! " says I. " Vee here? " 
 
 " Just going," says Marjorie. " Her aunty 
 is to call for her in about an hour. 
 
 Say, then was no time for wastin fleetin mo 
 ments on any bluff. * Say, Marjorie, says I, 
 " couldn t you get her to speed up the toilet 
 motions a bit and shoo her downstairs? Don t 
 say who; but just hint that someone wants to 
 see her mighty special for a few moments. 
 There s a good girl! " 
 
 Marjorie giggles and shows her dimples. " I 
 might try," says she. " Suppose you wait 
 in the library, where there s a nice log 
 fire." 
 
 So it s me for an easy chair in the corner, 
 where I can watch for the entrance. Five min 
 utes by the clock on the mantel, and nothing 
 happens. Ten minutes, and no Vee. Then I 
 hears a smothered snicker off to the left. I d 
 got my face all set for the cheerful greetin too, 
 when I discovers two pairs of brown eyes in- 
 spectin me roguish through the parted por 
 tieres. And neither pair was any I d ever seen 
 before. 
 
 " Huh! " thinks I. " Nice way to treat 
 guests! " and I pretends not to notice. I ve 
 picked up a magazine and am readin the pic 
 tures industrious, when there s more snickers.
 
 308 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 I scowls, fidgets around some, and fin lly takes 
 another glance. The brown eyes are twinklin 
 mischievous, all four of em. 
 
 "Well," says I, " what s the joke? Shoot 
 it!" 
 
 At that into the room bounces a couple of 
 girls, somewhere around ten and twelve, I 
 should judge; tall, long-legged kids, but cute 
 lookin , and genuine live wires, from their toes 
 up. They re fairly wigglin with some kind of 
 excitement. 
 
 l We know who you are ! singsongs one, 
 pointin the accusin finger. 
 
 " You re Torchy! " says the other. 
 
 " Then I m discovered," says I. " How d 
 you dope it out! " 
 
 11 By your hair! " comes in chorus, and then 
 they goes to a panicky clinch and giggles down 
 each other s necks. 
 
 " Hey, cut out the comic relief," says I, 
 " and give me a turn. Which one of you is 
 Peggy? " 
 
 " Why, who told you that? " demands the 
 one with the red ribbon. 
 
 " Oh, I m some guesser myself," says L 
 
 II It s you." 
 
 * Pooh ! I bet it was Uncle Ferdinand, says 
 she. 
 
 " Good sleuth work! " says I. " He s the 
 guy. But I didn t know he had such a cunnin
 
 set of nieces. Most as tall as he is, ain t you, 
 Peggy? " 
 
 But that don t happen to be the line of dia 
 logue they re burnin to follow out. Exchang- 
 in a look, they advance mysterious until there s 
 one on each side of me, and then Peggy whis 
 pers dramatic: 
 
 " You came to see Miss Vee, didn t you? 
 
 " Vee? " says I, lookin puzzled. " Vee 
 which ? 
 
 11 Oh, you know, now! " protests Jane, tap- 
 pin me playful. 
 
 " Sorry," says I, " but this is a baby visit 
 I m payin . Ask Uncle Ferdinand if it ain t." 
 
 Humph ! says Peggy. * Anyone can fool 
 Uncle Ferdy." 
 
 " Besides," says Jane, " we saw a picture 
 on Vee s dressing table, and when we asked 
 who it was she hid it. So there ! " 
 
 " Not a picture of me, though," says I. 
 " Couldn t be." 
 
 " Yes, it was," insists Jane. 
 
 11 A snapshot of you," says Peggy, " taken 
 in a boat." 
 
 I won t deny that was some cheerful bulletin ; 
 but somehow I had a hunch it might be best not 
 to let on too much. Course, I could locate the 
 time and place. I must have got on the film 
 durin my stay up at Roarin Rocks last sum 
 mer.
 
 310 ON WITH TOECHY 
 
 " In a boat! " says I. " Of all things! " 
 
 " And Vee doesn t want anyone to know 
 about it," adds Jane, " specially her aunty." 
 
 "Why not! " comes in Peggy, lookin me 
 straight in the eye. 
 
 "Very curious! " says I, shakin my head. 
 " What else did Vee have to say about me I 
 
 " M-m-m-m! : says Peggy. "We can t 
 tell." 
 
 " We promised not to," says Jane. 
 
 " You re a fine pair of promisers! " says I. 
 " I expect you hold secrets like a wire basket 
 holds water." 
 
 " We never said a word, did we, Peggy? 
 demands Jane. 
 
 " Nope! " says Peggy. " Maybe he s the 
 one Vee s aunty doesn t like." 
 
 " Are you! " says Jane, clawin my shoulder 
 excited. 
 
 "How utterly thrillin t " says I. "Say, 
 you re gettin me all tittered up. Think it s me 
 Aunty has the war club out for, do you? 
 
 " It s someone with hair just like yours, any 
 way," says Peggy. 
 
 " Think of that! " says I. " Does red hair 
 throw Aunty into convulsions, or what? 
 
 " Aunt Marjorie says it s because you that 
 is, because the one she meant isn t anybody," 
 says Jane. "He s poor, and all that. Are 
 you poor? "
 
 TORCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE 311 
 
 11 Me? " says I. " Why say, what is this 
 you re tryin to pull off on me, impeachment 
 proceeding? Come now, don t you guess your 
 Aunt Marjorie ll be wantin you? " 
 
 " No," says Peggy. " She told us for good 
 ness sake to run off and be quiet." 
 
 " What about this Miss Vee party, then? " 
 says I. " Don t she need you to help her hook 
 up? " 
 
 " We just came from her room," says 
 Peggy. 
 
 " She pushed us out and locked the door," 
 adds Jane. 
 
 " Great strategy! " says I. " Show me a 
 door with a key in it." 
 
 Pooh! " says Peggy. " You couldn t put 
 us both out at once." 
 
 11 Couldn t II " says I. " Let s see." 
 
 With that I grabs one under each arm, and 
 with the pair of em strugglin and squealin 
 and rough housin me for all they was worth, I 
 starts towards the livin room. We was right 
 in the midst of the scrimmage when in walks 
 Vee, with her hat and furs all on, lookin some 
 classy, take it from me. But the encouragin 
 part of it is that she smiles friendly, and I 
 smiles back. 
 
 " Well, you found someone, didn t you, 
 girls? " says she.
 
 312 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Oh, Vee, Vee! " sings out Peggy gleeful. 
 " Isn t this Torchy? " 
 " Your Torchy? " demands Jane. 
 
 I tips Vee the signal for gen ral denial and 
 winks knowin. But, say, you can t get by with 
 anything crude on a pair of open-eyed kids like 
 that. 
 
 " Oh, I saw! " announces Jane. " And you 
 do know him, don t you, Vee? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose we have met before? 
 says she, laughin ripply. " Haven t we, 
 Torchy? " 
 
 " Now that you mention it," says I, " I re 
 member." And we shakes hands formal. 
 
 " Came to see the baby, I hear," says Vee. 
 
 " Oh, sure! " says I. " Maybe you could 
 tell me about him first, though, if we could find 
 a quiet corner." 
 
 I 1 Oh, we 11 tell you, chimes in Peggy. We 
 know all about Baby. He has a tooth ! 
 
 " Say," says I, wigglin away from the pair, 
 " couldn t you go load up someone else with 
 information, just for ten minutes or so? 
 
 " What for? " says Jane, eyin me suspicious. 
 
 " We d rather stay here," says Peggy de 
 cided. 
 
 I catches a humorous twinkle in Vee s gray 
 eyes as she holds out her hands to the girls. 
 " Listen," says she confidential. " You know 
 those hermit cookies you re so fond of? Well,
 
 TOBCHY GETS A THROUGH WIKE 313 
 
 Cook made a whole jarful yesterday. They re 
 in the pantry. " 
 
 1 I know, says Jane. We found em last 
 night." 
 
 " The Glue Sisters! " says I. " Now see 
 here, Bads, I ve just thought of a message I 
 ought to give to Miss Vee." 
 
 " Who from? " demands Peggy. 
 
 11 From a young chap I know who thinks a 
 lot of her," says I. " It s strictly private too." 
 
 " What s it about! " says Jane. 
 
 Which was when my tactics gave out. * Say, 
 you two human question marks," says I, " beat 
 it, won t you? " 
 
 No, they just wouldn t. The best they would 
 do for me was to back off to the other side of 
 the room, eyes and ears wide open, and there 
 they stood. 
 
 " Go on! " whispers Vee. " What was it he 
 wanted to say? " 
 
 " It was about a couple of notes he wrote," 
 says I. 
 
 " Yes? " says Vee. " What happened? " 
 
 " They came back," says I, " without being 
 opened." 
 
 " Oh," says Vee, " those must have been the 
 ones that " 
 
 * Vee, Vee ! breaks in Peggy from over 
 near the window. " Here comes your aunty." 
 
 4 Good night, nurse ! says I.
 
 314 ON WITH TORCHY 
 
 " Tell him it s all right," says Vee hasty. 
 " He might send the next ones in care of Mar- 
 jorie; then I ll be sure of getting them. By-by, 
 Peggy. Don t squeeze so hard, Jane. No, 
 please don t come out, Torchy. Goodby." 
 
 And in another minute I m left to the mercy 
 of the near-twins once more. I camps down in 
 the easy chair again, with one on each side, and 
 the cross examination proceeds. Say, they re 
 a great pair too. 
 
 " Didn t Vee want you to go out cause her 
 aunty would see you? " asks Peggy. 
 
 " There! " says I. " I wonder? " 
 
 "I m glad she isn t my aunty," says Jane. 
 " She looks too cross. 
 
 " If I was Vee s aunty," puts in Peggy, " I 
 wouldn t be mad if she did have your picture 
 in a silver frame." 
 
 " Honest? " says I. " How s that? " 
 
 " Cause I don t think you re so awful hor 
 rid, even if you aren t anybody," says Peggy. 
 " Do you, Jane? " 
 
 " I like him," says Jane. " I think his hair s 
 nice too." 
 
 * Well, well ! says I. * Guess I got some 
 gallery with me, anyway. And how does Vee 
 stand with you? " 
 
 " Oh, she s just a dear! " says Peggy, clap- 
 pin her hands. 
 
 " M-m-m-m! " echoes Jane. " She s going
 
 TOBCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE 315 
 
 to take us to see Maude Adams next Wednesday 
 too." 
 
 " Huh! " says I, indicatin deep thought. 
 " So you ll see her again soon? " 
 
 " I wish it was tomorrow," says Jane. 
 
 " Mr. Torchy," says Peggy, grabbin me im 
 pulsive by one ear and swingin my face around, 
 " truly now, aren t you awfully in love with 
 Vee! " 
 
 Say, where do they pick it up, youngsters of 
 that age? Her big brown eyes are as round and 
 serious as if she knew all about it; and on 
 the other side is Jane, fairly holdin her 
 breath. 
 
 " Whisper! " says I. " Could you two keep 
 a secret? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! " comes in chorus. 
 
 " Well, then," says I, "I m going to hand 
 you one. I think Vee is the best that ever hap 
 pened." 
 
 * Oh, goody ! exclaims Peggy. Then you 
 do love her awfully! But why don t you " 
 
 " Wait! " says I. " When I get to be a lit 
 tle older, and some bigger, and after I ve made 
 heaps and heaps of money, and have a big, 
 black automobile " 
 
 " And a big, black mustache," adds Peggy. 
 
 " No," says I. " Cut out the miracles. Call 
 it when I m in business for myself. Then, if 
 somebody 11 only choke off Aunty long enough,
 
 316 ON WITH TOKCHY 
 
 I may well, some fine moonlight night I may 
 tell her all about it." 
 
 " Oh! " gasps Jane. " Mayn t we be there 
 to hear you do it? " 
 
 " Not if I can bar you out," says I. 
 
 " Please ! " says Peggy. " We would sit just 
 
 as still and not Oh, here s Aunt Marjorie. 
 
 Aunty, what do you think? Mr. Torchy s been 
 telling us a secret." 
 
 " There, there, Peggy," says Marjorie, 
 "don t be silly. Torchy is waiting to see Baby. 
 Come! He s awake now." 
 
 Yep, I had to do the inspection act, after all. 
 And I must say that most of these infant won 
 ders look a good deal alike; only Ferdinand, 
 Jr., has a cute way of tryin out his new tooth 
 on your thumb. 
 
 Goin back towards the station I meets Ferdy 
 himself, trampin in lonesome from a long 
 walk, and lookin mighty glum. 
 
 Of all the gloom carriers ! says I. * What 
 was it let you in bad this time? 
 
 " You ought to know," says he. 
 
 " For why? " says I. 
 
 "Oh, fudge!" says he. "I suppose you 
 didn t put me up to that silly business of chang 
 ing neckties I 
 
 " Gunked it, did you? " says I. " But 
 how? " 
 
 "If you must know," says he, "I forgot to
 
 TORCHY GETS A THEOUGH WIRE 317 
 
 change back on my way home, and Marjorie s 
 still furious. She simply won t let me explain, 
 refuses to listen to a word. So what can I 
 do! " 
 
 " A cinch! " says I. " You got a pair of 
 livin dictaphones in the house, ain t you? 
 Work it off on Peggy and Jane as a secret, and 
 you ll have your defense on record inside of 
 half an hour. Cheer up, Ferdy. Ishkabibble !
 
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