Torchy

  CHAPTER XVIII

  GETTING HERMES ON THE BOUNCE

  Anybody might of thought, to see me sittin' there in the Ellins lib'ry,leanin' back luxurious in a big red leather chair lookin' over thelatest magazines, that I'd been promoted from head office boy to heirapparent or something like that. I expect some kids would have stood onone leg in the front hall and held their breath; but why not makeyourself to home when you get the chance? I knew the boss was takin' histime goin' through all them papers I'd brought up, and that when hefinished he'd send down word if there was any instructions to go back.

  That's how I come to get the benefit of all this mushy conversation thatbegins to drift out from the next room. First off I couldn't make outwhether it was some one havin' a tooth plugged, or if it was a case of amouse bein' loose at a tea party. Course, the squeals and giggles Icould place as comin' from Miss Marjorie Ellins. Maybe you rememberabout Mr. Robert's heavyweight young sister that wanted to play Julietonce?

  But who the other party was I didn't have an idea, except that from the"you-alls" she was usin' I knew she must hail from somewhere south ofBaltimore.

  Anyway, they seemed to be too much excited to sit down while theytalked, and the first thing I knew they'd drifted into the lib'ry, theirarms twined around each other in a reg'lar schoolgirl clinch, and theconversation just bubblin' out of 'em free.

  Miss Marjorie was all got up classy in pink and white, and she sure doeslook like a wide, corn fed Venus. The other is a slim, willowy younglady with a lot of home grown blond hair, a cute chin dimple, and a pairof big dark eyes with a natural rovin' disposition. And she's hobbleskirted to the point where her feet was about as much use as if they'dbeen tied in a bag.

  It was some kind of a long winded story she was tellin' veryconfidential, with Marjorie supplyin' the exclamation points.

  "Really, now, was he, Mildred?" says Marjorie.

  "'Deed and 'deedy, he was!" says Mildred. "Positively the handsomest manI ever saw! I thought I could forget him; but I couldn't, Madge, Icouldn't! And only think, he is coming this very night, and not a soulknows but just us two!"

  "Excuse me," says I; "but I'm Number Three."

  "Oh, oh!" they both squeals at once.

  "Who--who's that?" whispers Mildred.

  "Why it's only Torchy, from Papa's office," says Marjorie. "And oh,Mildred! He is the very one to help us! You will now, won't you, Torchy?Come, that's a dear!"

  "Please do, Torchy!" says Mildred, snugglin' up on the other side andpattin' my red hair soothin'.

  "Ah, say, reverse English on the tootsy business!" says I. "This ain'tany heart-throb matinee. G'wan!"

  "Why, Torchy!" says Marjorie, real coaxin' "I thought we were such goodfriends!"

  "Well, I'm willin' to let it go that far," says I; "but don't try toring in any folksy strangers. I'm here on business for the firm."

  Just then too down comes the maid sayin' there wa'n't anything to goback; so I starts to beat it.

  I didn't get far, though, with a hundred and ninety pound young ladyblockin' the doorway.

  "Torchy, you must help us!" says Marjorie. "There isn't anyone else wecan ask. And you're always doing such clever things for Papa and BrotherBob!"

  Say, it was a puffy lot of hot air she hands out; but I admit that aftertwo or three more speeches like that, and with her promisin' to squareanything Piddie might have to say about not comin' back, she had megoin'.

  "Well, what's the proposition?" says I.

  "Let's tell him all, so he will understand just what he's to do,"suggests Marjorie.

  And, say, you should have heard them two, with me pinned in between 'emon the couch, givin' me the tale in a sort of chorus, both talkin' toonce and beginnin' at diff'rent ends.

  "It's such a romance!" squeals Marjorie.

  "You see, he's coming to-night," says Mildred, "and nobody knows."

  "Yes, I got that all down," says I; "but what's the first part? Who ishe and where's he from?"

  Well, it's some yarn, all right! Seems that Mildred was a boardin'school chum of Marjorie's who'd come up from Atlanta to spend the summerwith friends in Newport. As a wind-up to the season they'd taken her ona yachtin' trip up the coast. Such a poky old trip, too! Nobody aboardbut old married folks that played bridge all the time, and one baldheaded bachelor who couldn't sit out in the moonlight with her unless hewas wrapped up in a steamer rug.

  So what was a girl with eyes like Mildred's to do, anyway? She was bein'bored to death, when, as luck would have it, something went wrong withthe propeller shaft. The yacht was 'way up off the coast of Maine at thetime, and the nearest place where it was safe to anchor was in the leeof a barren, dinky little island. And they stays there three whole days,while the crew tinkers things up below and the folks yawn their headsoff.

  All but Millie. She got so desp'rate she rowed ashore all by herself.Accordin' to her description, that must have been a perfectly punklittle island. It was all rock, except in a few spots where there wassome scrub bushes and mangy grass. Plunk in the middle was an old shackof a house surrounded by lobster pots and racks of codfish spread out todry, and she says it was the smelliest scenery she'd ever got real closeto.

  But Mildred was sore on the yacht and all the stupid folks on it; so shewanders out to windward of the worst smells, plants herself on theflattest rock she can find, and prepares to read. That's her pose whenshe looks up and discovers this male party with the sun kissed locks andthe dreamy eyes standin' there gazin' at her curious.

  "It wasn't Adonis that I called him," says Mildred. "Who was thatstunning old Greek that we had the bust of in the school library,Madge?"

  "Hermes?" says Marjorie.

  "That's it!" says Mildred. "He was a perfect Hermes; only his curly hairwas all sun bleached, and his face was tanned a lovely brown, and he hadbig, broad shoulders, and--and he was smoking a pipe."

  "And about his eyes!" prompts Marjorie.

  "Oh, they were perfectly stunning," says she, "real sea blue."

  Well, anybody that ever read a midsummer fiction number could havesupplied the next chapters. Here's the lovely city girl, the noblebrowed but unsuspectin' native, golden summer days, and no competition.Why, with a catchy title and a few mushy pictures it would make a lovelycontribution to one of the leadin' thirty-five-centers, just as itstood. And Mildred knew her cue, all right. She trains them front roweyes of hers on him, opens up with a few lines of lively chatter, andinside of half an hour she has him sittin' picturesque at her feet,callin' him Hermes of the Lobster Pots, and otherwise workin' the sirenspell.

  "You must have flirted horribly with him," says Marjorie, sighin' deepand admirin'.

  "What else could one do?" asks Mildred. "And it was such fun! I couldget him to say hardly anything about himself; but he was a charminglistener. He would sit and gaze at me in the most soulful, appreciativeway. Poor chap!"

  He must have had her guessin' some at that; for she wa'n't dead surewhether he was a real native or not until the boss of the island showsup. He's a hump shouldered, leather faced, bushy browed old barnacle,with a Down East dialect that it was a dream to listen to, and it wasonly when Mildred heard Hermes call him Uncle Jerry that she couldbelieve the two was any relation. Uncle Jerry didn't interfere, thoughHe let 'em moon around on the rocks without disturbin' the game, and Ijudge from Millie's report that she wa'n't missin' any tricks.

  Yet she's right there with the heartless behavior when the time comes,sailin' away with a gay laugh and leavin' her blue eyed young lobsterman to yearn and mourn there on his smelly little island. Anyway, that'show she had it doped out.

  And it wa'n't until weeks later, when she'd had her snapshots of himdeveloped and printed, and got to summin' up the details in this case ofVictim B-23, that she discovers how a few of her own heartstrings hasbeen strained. Somehow she couldn't seem to tear them three August dayscompletely off the calendar; and when the other chappies come buzzin'around, and she had a chance to frame 'em up alongside of this fishislan
d hero, there wa'n't but one answer. It was Hermes for hers, everyday in the week!

  There he was, though, out on that mussy rock; and here she was, visitin'in New York, leadin' the giddy life, and gettin' her gowns ready for theHorse Show. If Millie had passed out the heartaches casual along herformer trails, here was where she gets at least one of 'em back on therebound.

  You can guess how bad an attack she had when she crosses all the newReggie boys off her string and cooks up this scheme of sendin' forHermes to come to her. Her excuse is that she wants Uncle Jerry to havethe trip of his life by coming to the great city; but incident'lly sheurges him to bring his blue eyed nephew along, and the check she sendsis big enough to cover expenses for both. Bein' one of the impulsivekind, she does it the minute the notion strikes her; and two days latercomes this postal from Uncle Jerry, sayin' how he was much obliged, andhim and his nevvy was takin' the boat for Bosting and expected to fetchup in New York sometime next afternoon by train.

  "Which is now," says Mildred. "But of course I can't go to the GrandCentral to meet him."

  "Why not?" says I. "Why balk at a little thing like that when you'vebeen doin' so well?"

  "Oh, but, Torchy," chimes in Marjorie, "you know you could do it so muchbetter!"

  And what with both of them coaxin', and stuffin' expense money into mypockets, the next thing I know I'm on my way down to where the Bostontrains come in, and am campin' outside the gate. I nearly wore my eyesout, too, sizin' up the first trainload, and after an hour's wait I wasgettin' dizzy keepin' track of the second lot, when all of a sudden Ispots this old chap with the thick underbrush over his eyes and the soleleather complexion.

  "Oh, you Uncle Jerry!" I sings out, takin' a chance and pushin' throughthe crowd with my hand out.

  "Wall, how be ye?" says he, real hearty. "Don't remember seein' youafore; but I s'pose it's all right."

  "Sure it is, old scout," says I. "If you're Uncle Jerry, I'm MissMildred's reception committee; but where's the nephew?"

  "That's him," says he, jerkin' his thumb at a big, overgrown, tow hairedyawp that's trailin' along in the rear luggin' a canvas valise.

  "You don't mean to tell me that's Hermes?" says I.

  "I dun'no 'bout any Hermes," says he; "but this is my sister's boy Jake,the only nephew I got, and, bein' as how Miss Mildred asked so special,I brought him along."

  Course, there's no accountin' for tastes, specially in a romantic younglady like her; but, if this was her idea of livin' Greek statuary, shesure was easy pleased. Why, of all the rough necked Rubes! He's one ofthese loose jawed, open mouthed, lop sided youths that walks like he wasafraid of steppin' on his own feet, and looks about as much alive as atin rabbit that can wiggle its ears when you pull a string. His hair andcomplexion was accordin' to specifications, I admit, and his eyes wereas blue as a new set of lunch counter crockery; and if he was all UncleJerry could show in the nephew line, then he must be it.

  "All right," says I. "It ain't me that's pickin' him. Now fall in lineright behind me, and we'll work out where he won't get run down bybaggage trucks or be mistaken by excursionists for a spray of autumnleaves."

  "Young lady didn't come down to the train, hey?" says Uncle Jerry.

  "No, it makes her kind of nervous to see the cars come in," says I."You're due to meet her this evenin', Uncle, you and Hermes."

  You see, accordin' to the plan, I was to stow the pair to some hotel,see that they was fed, keep 'em busy durin' the early part of theevenin', and round 'em up at a big society crush where Marjorie knewthe folks well enough so she could ask favors. If Mildred had 'em comewhere she was visitin', there'd be no end of questions asked; but if shesort of ran across 'em by accident at a place where there was a crowd,and could have a few words with Hermes in some quiet corner, nobodywould be the wiser.

  It was this last part of the programme I had in mind as I was sizin' upJake's travelin' costume. And, say, how is it up there in the opodeldoczone that they can get these high-water pant legs to fit so much likelengths of stovepipe? They was kind of a bilious brown and cut gen'rousin the seat; but, as far as real comic relief went, they wa'n't in itwith the cute little short tailed cutaway that he sported above 'em.Honest, that coat was enough to make an eccentric song and dance artistgreen in the eyes! And you can believe me when I say I didn't lose anytime in scootin' 'em down Fourth-ave. to a dollar a day house patronizedby some of our swellest Texas buyers. My next move is to make a reportover the 'phone.

  "Yep, I got 'em both under lock and key," says I to Marjorie. "Troubleto pick em out? Ah, it was a pipe! Specimens like that ain't so commonanyone could get mixed if they knew what day to look for 'em. Yes, thenephew's along, all right. His real name is Jake. Well, Hermes if youinsist. But, say, ask Miss Mildred if she wants him delivered in theoriginal package, or should I hire some open face clothes for him."

  The decision is that Hermes must come in a dress suit, and if he ain'tgot any with him Marjorie will send down one of Mr. Robert's old ones.

  "Oh, I'm just dying to see him in evening clothes!" gushes Mildred overthe wire. "I know he'll be perfectly splendid!"

  "Maybe," says I. "Only don't forget the collar buttons and studs for thedress shirt."

  Say, I won't dwell on the gay time I had tryin' to keep that pair out ofsight until after dinner. Honest, if I'd been drivin' the monkey cage ina circus parade I'd felt a lot better; for every fresh gink that pipesoff that vaudeville costume of Jake's has to have his say about it. Atthe hash house where I steers 'em up against a twenty-five-cent coursedinner all the girl waiters got to gigglin' like they'd never seen afreak before.

  It wouldn't have been so bad with just Uncle Jerry, for he's wearin' anold black whipcord that would pass in the dark, and, outside the rubbercollar and the plated watch chain looped across his vest, he didn't havethe crossroads tag on him very plain; but Jake might as well have hadcowbells tied to him. Maybe I wa'n't some relieved too when we got backto the hotel and found this outfit that the girls had scraped togetherand sent down.

  "Now we'll fix you up for the theater and high society, Jake," says I."By rights you ought to have some of that neck hemp sheared off; but Idon't dare let a barber loose at you, for fear Mildred wouldn't know youafter he got through. She raved a lot about that hair of yours, Jake."

  "You go on now, Smarty!" says Jaky boy, grinnin' expansive. "Think I'mgoin' to wear duds like them?"

  "You do if you appear out again with me," says I. "So peel the butternutregalia and lemme see if I can harness you up in these."

  "Hee-haw!" remarks Uncle Jerry. "Let him fix you up real harnsome,Jake."

  Maybe that's what I did; but I wouldn't want to swear to it. Anyway, Igot him into the dress shirt by main strength. That was the firststruggle. Then, while Uncle Jerry held him gaspin' and groanin' on thefloor, I buttoned the high collar on and fastened the white tie. Next weended him up on his feet and pulled on the display vest and the longtailed coat.

  "Ug-g-gh! It chokes somethin' awful!" says Jake, gettin' purple facedand panicky.

  "Ah, close that pie gangway of yours and breathe natural for a minute!"says I. "There, you're feelin' better already. Come, pull them knobbywrists back up into your sleeves. This ain't no swimmin' lesson, youknow. Say, you wear a dress suit like it was so much tin armor. What'sthe matter with you, anyway!"

  "I--I don't know," says Jake, tryin' to stretch his head up like aturkey. "I don't like this."

  "You look it," says I. "But think who's goin' to see you in it later!First off, though, you're goin' to a show with me. Come on, now; maybeyou'll get used to bein' dressed up by eleven o'clock."

  "'Leven o'clock!" says Uncle Jerry. "Look here, Son, I ain't in thehabit of stayin' up all night, remember. I'll be droppin' off to sleepfor sartin'."

  He don't, though. All through the play, which has been a two years'scream for Broadway, he sat as solemn as if he was on a coroner's juryin the presence of the remains. Play actin' was new to Uncle Jerry; buthe wa'n't going to give himself away,
and he was just as wide awake asanybody in the house.

  With Jake it was diff'rent. I expect them washed out blue eyes of hishad taken in so many new scenes since mornin' that they couldn't absorbany more. Anyway, he gets drowsy before the curtain goes up, and afterhe's twisted his neck until he's got it collar broken he settles backfor a comf'table snooze. He looks so calm and peaceful I didn't have theheart to disturb him, and I only jabbed my elbows in his ribs when hegot to tunin' up the nose music too loud. Besides, I was hopin' a littlenap of two or three hours might leave him some refreshed and in bettershape for exhibitin' to Miss Mildred. For the more I saw of Jake, theless I could understand how a real live one like Millie could stand forthree days of him, even if she did, discover him on a desert island. Andas for ravin' about him afterwards--well, you never can tell, can you?

  After the play it took Uncle Jerry shakin' on one side and me on theother to bring Jake back to life from his woodsawin' act.

  "Ah, quit it and give the orchestra a chance!" says I. "And keep themelbows down! Don't try to stretch here; wait until you get back to theopen fields for that. Yes, it's all over, and you're about to butt intosociety; so for Heaven's sake come out of the trance!"

  Not havin' a stretcher handy, we drags him out to the curb, and I blowssome more of my expense account against a taxi, which lands us safe andsound at this Fifth-ave. number up in the 70's. "Guests of Miss MarjorieEllins," was to be the password, and the flunky in satin pants at thedoor seems to have been well posted.

  "Yes, sir; right this way, sir," says he, wavin' us down the hall andshootin' us into a little conservatory nook. "The gentlemen from Maineare to wait here, and you are to meet Miss Ellins at the foot of thegrand staircase. She will be down in a moment, sir."

  "I get you," says I, and, after cautionin' Jake to keep on his feetuntil I came back, I slips out and posts myself behind a potted palmwhere I could watch the early arrivals comin' down from the cloakrooms.

  It wa'n't a long wait; for pretty soon down floats Mildred and Marjorie,all got up in flossy party dresses and fairly quiverin' with excitement.

  "Oh, you dear boy!" gushes Millie. "And he is really here, is he? Mysplendid Hermes! Tell me, what did he have to say about it all?"

  "Who, Jake?" says I. "Mostly he was beefin' about the way his neck achedfrom the collar."

  "Isn't that just like a man!" says Marjorie.

  "I don't care," says Mildred. "I am just crazy to see him once more. Iwant to look into his eyes and----"

  "Then step lively," says I, "before they get glued up for good. Downthis way. Here you are, in there among the palms! See, there's UncleJerry rubberin' around!"

  "Oh, yes!" squeals Millie, clappin' her hands. "Dear old Uncle Jerry!But--but, Torchy, where is--er--his nephew?"

  "Eh?" says I. "Why, there on the bench, doin' the yawn act!"

  "Wha-a-a-at!" gasps Millie, steppin' in for a closer look.

  "Straight goods," says I. "That's Hermes the lobster picker."

  "That!" says Mildred, shrinkin' back. "Never!"

  "Huh!" says I. "I told him you wouldn't know him if he didn't keep thatface cavity of his closed. He's been doin' that since eight o'clock. Buthe's the real article, serial number guaranteed by Uncle Jerry."

  "No, no!" squeals Mildred, covering her face with her hands and backin'away. "There's been some dreadful mistake! That isn't my Hermes. Hewasn't at all like that, I tell you, not at all!"

  Well, we was grouped there in the hall holdin' our foolish debate, whenthis strange gent strolls by huntin' for some place to light up hiscigarette. And just as one of us mentions Hermes again I notices himturn and prick up his ears. Next thing I knew, he's stepped over and islookin' kind of smilin' and expectant at Mildred.

  "I beg pardon if I'm wrong," says he; "but isn't this the--er--ah--theyoung lady whom I had the pleasure of----"

  But that's enough for Millie, just hearin' his voice. Down comes herhands off her face. "Oh, I knew it! I knew it!" she squeals. "Hermes!"

  And, say, I don't know how that old Greek looked; but if he had thebuild and lines of this chap he sure was some ornamental. Anyway, theone we had with us would have been a medal winner in any kind ofclothes. Also he had the light wavy hair and the dark blue eyes ofMillie's description, with some of the vacation tan left on his cheeks.

  Marjorie's the next to be heard from.

  "Why, Mr. Brooke Hartley!" says she, stickin' out her hand.

  "By Jove!" says he. "Bob Ellins' little sister, eh? Hello, Marjorie!"

  "Then--then----" gasps Mildred, lookin' from one to the other kind ofdazed, "then you aren't a lobster man, after all?"

  "Nothing so useful as that, I'm afraid," says Hartley.

  "But why were you there on that island?" she insists.

  "Well," says he, "hay fever was my chief excuse. I pretend to paintmarines, you know, and that's another; but really I suppose I was justbeing lazy and enjoying the society of Uncle Jerry."

  "But he isn't your uncle, truly?" says Mildred.

  "Well," says Hartley, "it's a relationship I share with most of thesummer people on that section of the Maine coast."

  Then a light seemed to break on Mildred. She blushes to her eartips andhides her face in her hands once more. "Oh, oh!" she groans. "And Icalled you Hermes!"

  "You did," says he. "And nothing ever tickled my vanity half so much.I've lived on that for the last two months. Please don't take it back!"

  "I--I won't," says Millie, lettin' loose one of them rovin' glances athim sort of shy and fetchin'.

  And, say, all tinted up that way, you could hardly blame him forgrabbin' both her hands. Not knowin' what might happen next, I proceedsto break in.

  "In the meantime," says I, "what'll you have done with this perfectlygood nephew we've got on our hands back there on the bench?"

  "That one!" says Millie. "Oh, I never want to see him again! Tell him togo away and--and go to bed."

  "That'll be welcome news for Jaky, all right," says I.