CHAPTER III
MEETING UP WITH THE GREAT SKID
Next time you nabs me writin' a form sheet on any unknown, you can hangout the waste paper sign and send me to the scows. Look at the mess Imakes of this here Mallory business! Why, first off I has him billed fora Percy boy that had strayed into the general office from the drygoodsdistrict. He had a filin' job in the bond room, and when he drew hisenvelope on Saturdays it must have set the Corrugated Trust back for asmuch as twelve D.
Course, I didn't pay no attention to him, until one noon I finds him inthe next chair at the dairy lunch. He's got his mug of half white andhalf black, and his two corned beef splits, with plenty of mustard, andhe's just squarin' off for a foodfest, when I squats down with two hunksof pie and all the cheese I could get at one grab.
"Hello, Algy!" says I. "Where's the charlotte russe and the cup of tea?"
"Beg pardon," says he; "were you speaking to me?"
"Sure," says I. "You didn't think I was makin' that crack at thearmchair, did you? Maybe we ain't been introduced; but we're on the samepayroll."
"Oh, yes," says he, "I remember now. You're the--the----"
"Go on, say it," says I. "I don't mind if it is red, and I lets anybodycall me Torchy that wants to, even Willies."
"Well, now, that's nice of you," says he, sidetrackin' a bite to look meover. Then he grins.
Say, it was that open face movement that made me suspicious maybe hewa'n't one of the Algernon kind, after all. But he had most of thepoints, from the puff tie to the way he spoke. It wa'n't the hot potatodialect Piddie uses; but it leaned that way. If he'd been a real Willieboy, though, he'd gone up in the air, and maybe I'd got slapped on thewrist. His springin' that grin was a hunch for me to hold the decision.
"How long you been keepin' Corrugated stocks from goin' below par?" saysI.
That stuns him for a minute, and then a light breaks. He throws anothergrin. "Oh, about a year," he says.
"Chee!" says I. "And they ain't put you on the board of directors yet?"
"I've managed to keep off so far," says he.
"Get a lift every quarter, though, I suppose?" says I.
"I'm getting the same salary I began with, if that's what you mean,"says he, tacklin' another sandwich that had got past the meatinspectors.
"Yours must be fatter'n most of the Saturday prize packages they handout in the general office, or you wouldn't have kept satisfied so long,"says I.
He thinks that over for awhile, like it was a new proposition, and thenhe says, quiet and easy, "I'm not at all sure, you see, that I amsatisfied."
"Why not chuck it then and make another grab?" says I. "It's good lucksometimes to shake the bag."
He swings his shoulders up at that,--and say, he's got a good pair, allright!--but he don't say a word.
"Ain't married the job, have you?" says I. "Or have you lost yournerve?"
"Perhaps it's a lack of nerve, as you suggest," says he, more as if hewas talkin' to himself than anything else.
"Don't think you could connect with another, eh?" says I.
He shakes his head. "I'm not exactly proud of the fact," says he; "but Idon't mind telling you in confidence that it required the combinedefforts of my entire family and all my friends to get me into this job."
"Honest?" says I. "Chee! They picked a pippin for you, didn't they?"
"It's a star," says he.
"So's a swift kick from the bottom of a well," says I.
With that I shakes off the pie crumbs and takes a chase up around theFlatiron, to watch the kids collectin' cigar coupons and take a look atthe folks from the goshfry-mighty belt shiverin' in the rubberneckbuggies. Say, I never feel quite so much to home in this burg as when Iwatch them jays from the one-night stands payin' their coin to seethings that I shut my eyes on every day.
When I gets back on the gate I tries to figure out this Mallory gent;but I can't place him. He's no Willie, and he's no dope, I can see that.With his age and general get-up, though, he ought to be pullin' outfifty or so a week. What's he been at all this time?
I was just curious enough to stroll over and take a look at him. He hashis coat off, pluggin' away on the job and doin' the kind of work that Icould learn to play with any time I had a day off. Not that I'm lookin'for it. Bein' head office boy suits me down to the ground. That's bein'somethin', even if they do pay you off with a five and a one. But ifyou're a live one you'll get tipped as much more. And you don't havecold chills up the spine every time the boss lugs down an afterbreakfast grouch.
Course, a duck like Mallory can't get in any such game; so he's got todig away at the filin' case and wear his last summer's suit untilChristmas. Diggin' and keepin' quiet seemed to be his only play. Just asthough he'd ever win any medals by the way he stacked papers away inlittle pasteboard boxes!
He wins somethin' else, though. One day the general manager rushes intoMallory's corner after somethin' he wanted in a hurry, and by the timehe'd found it he'd pied things from one end of the coop to the other.Mallory was just tryin' to straighten out the mess, when along comesPiddie, with that pointed nose of his in front. Piddie don't ask anyquestions; he throws a fit. Why, he had Mallory on the carpet for fortyminutes by the clock, givin' him the grand roast, and the only timeMallory opens up to tell him how it was he shuts him off with a, "Thatis sufficient, Mr. Mallory! I am here to get results, not excuses. Isthat quite clear?"
"Yes, sir," says Mallory.
Say, but he did it well! He looks that peanut headed snipe straight inthe eye all the time after that and takes what's comin' to him withoutturnin' a hair. It was "Yes, Mr. Piddie," and "No, Mr. Piddie"; butnothin' else. And the cooler and politer he was, the wilder Piddie got.When I hears him tell Mallory that another such break will cost him hisjob, I was achin' to throw the letterpress at him and break him in two.I couldn't hardly wait for Mallory to shut the door before I let loose.
"Say, Piddie," says I, "if you don't think you'll sleep easy to-nightunless you give some one the bounce, why not fire me? Go on, now; I'llmake out a case for you. Tell 'em I said you howled around like a pupwith a sore ear."
Piddie turns white and gives me the glassy eye--that's all. I couldn'ttease a fire out of him with a box of matches.
But that didn't make up for the way he'd roughed Mallory. I was stillsore over it at closin' time; so I lays for Mallory and asks him why hedidn't risk the job and take a crack at Piddie's jaw.
He just laughs. "Oh," says he, "I couldn't pay him that compliment."
Was that a joke, yes? Blamed if I could tell. Anyway, it wa'n't sense.And there's where I had the front to put it straight up to Mallory abouthis bein' stranded in a place where he had to take such pin jabbin' asthat.
"Say," says I, "is it hard luck, or a late start, or what?"
"I fancy a late start would cover it," says he.
"Not college?" says I.
"That's it," says he.
"Aw, fudge!" says I. "Honest, I didn't take you for one of them rah-rahboys. Well, if it's that ails you, you're up against it. I don't wonderyou had to be jammed into a job with a flyin' wedge. Chee!"
I was sorry for him, though. Maybe it was somethin' he couldn't duck.Some of 'em I've known of couldn't. Oh, I've seen bunches of 'em, justturned out. Didn't we have more'n a dozen unloaded on us when me and Mr.Marshall was gettin' out the Sunday edition? And we didn't do a thing to'em, either!
But it's a tough deal, after puttin' in all that time dodgin' the foolkiller at some one else's expense, to be chucked into the grub game withnothin' but a lot of siss-boom yells for experience. I wouldn't havebelieved Mallory was that sort. Nice young feller, too. Never slung anyof his Greek at me, nor flashed his college pins. Seemed to kind of likechinnin' to me at lunch; so I let him. You know how you'll get togassin' and tellin' each other the story of your life. I lets out aboutBelmont Pepper and the minin' stocks he gave me, and Mallory drops hintsabout mother and sister, that was livin' off in Washington or somewherewith a brother that was in
better luck. Mallory, he was doin' the hallbedroom act, livin' on that twelve per and keepin' out of sight ofeveryone he'd ever known until he'd made good. Guess he found it kind ofa lonesome deal.
Once when I was extra flush I offers to blow him to a fam'ly circle seatat "The Bandit Queen"; but he says he thinks he'd better not go.
"Plannin' to have a spin in your new car?" says I.
"Hardly," says he.
"Well, how do you put in your off time, anyway?" says I.
And say, whatcher think? His programme is to light up the gas stovereg'lar after dinner and fill his head full of truck out of the trademonthlies and Wall Street columns, postin' himself on Corrugatedbusiness.
"Gettin' ready to give the old man a few private tips?" says I.
"Not until he asks for them," says he.
"Then you've got lots of time," says I. "But it's a punk way of enjoyin'yourself."
Maybe it was thinkin' about what a dead slow time he was havin' thatgives me the cue to stir up that lovely mess, or perhaps it was becausethe thing was sprung on me so unexpected. It come one day when I wasbusy drawin' pictures of Piddie on the blotter. I hears a giggle, andsquints up to see a pair that looked as if they'd just broke away froman afternoon tea. He was a husky youth in a frock coat, with a face likea full moon and a voice that didn't call for any megaphone. The otherwas a her, and she was a bundle of tuttifrutti, the kind you seefloatin' by in sixty horsepowers, all veils and furs and eyes.
"Hello, sonny," says he, swingin' up to the brass gate, wearin' afour-inch grin. "Where's the Great Skid?"
"Give it up," says I. "Have you tried the Zoo?"
"He-haw!" says he, with the stops all out and a forced draft on. "That'sa good one, that is! But we haven't much time and we're looking forSkid. Where do you keep him?"
"Say," says I, "we've got a lot of freaks on tap; but we're just out ofSkids. Anything else do?"
Then she comes to the front. "Don't be such a silly, Dicky!" says she."It isn't likely they call him that here. Tell the young man it's BertMallory we wish to see."
"You're right, Sis, right as usual," says Dick. "It's Mallory we'relooking for."
"Oh!" says I. "Mister Mallory?"
"There now, Dicky!" says she, pokin' him with her elbow and touchin' offanother giggle. "Didn't I tell you?"
"He-haw!" says Dicky. "Mister Mallory, of course."
But I didn't feel he-hawy a bit; for it was up to me to tow Mallory'sswell college chum and his sister in where the boy was jugglin' the filecases. And them lookin' for him to be sittin' in a swing chair with hisname painted big on the door! That was when I dug up my fool thought.
"Cards!" says I. "I'll see if Mr. Mallory's got through consultin' withthe general manager."
"Oh!" gurgles Sis. "Doesn't that sound business like, though? I supposeSkid--er--Mr. Mallory is quite a busy man, isn't he?"
"Busy," says I. "Say, you don't think he has all of us around here toplay marbles, do you, miss?"
Sis, she gets mighty int'rested at that. "He's a very important man now,isn't he?" says she.
"Chee, yes!" says I. "He's I-double-it around here."
"Isn't that fine?" says Sis. "But I hope he can see us."
"Oh, I'll fix that all right," says I.
With that I slides through two doors and into Mr. Robert's room. He'sstill out to lunch, of course, it bein' only about two o'clock; so Iunlocks the corridor door that he don't use and skips across into thegeneral offices.
"Say," says I to Mallory, "you're wanted in the boss's office. No, notthe old man's; Mr. Robert's. Skin into your coat and come along."
Never fazes him a bit. He just hunches his shoulders, knocks the dustoff his hands, and trots after. When I gets him in there I tells him towait a minute, and then I goes out through the right way and lugs inDicky and sister.
Was it a surprise party? Well, say! Dicky lets out a roar, makes aplunge for him, hammers him on the back, works the pump handle, andtalks a blue streak.
"Well, Skiddy, old man, here we are!" says he. "Thought you'd given usthe shake for good, eh? But we heard you'd gone in with theCorrugated,--saw Blicky in Venice and he told us,--so when we cameashore we wired father to hold the car over one train for us while wehunted you up. Sis wouldn't let me come unless she could too. Here, Sis,it's your turn. Blaze ahead now and give the boy what you said youwould. I'll turn my back."
I didn't, though. Was there any hangin' off about Sis? Not so you'dnotice it. She just steps up and makes a grab for Mallory and----Aw,say! One like that must be good for chapped lips. If I'm ever handed oneof them kind I won't wash it off for a month. It tickles Dicky most todeath.
"He-haw!" says he, so's the window panes rattle. "She said she'd do it.And she did, didn't she, eh, Skid?"
Mallory couldn't prove an alibi. He was the worst rattled man I eversee, and as for blushin'--he got up a color like the lady heroine in abiff-bang drama. He acted as though he didn't know whether he wasloopin' the loops or having a dream that was too good to be true. Onceor twice he tried to unloosen some remarks; but Sis and Dicky was bothtalkin' to once and he never got a show. They was tellin' him how gladthey was to see him again, and what a great man he was, and how Sis wascomin' back to town next month for the rest of the season, and allthat--when right in the middle of it the door opens and in comes Mr.Robert.
Say, I felt like a noon extra in a bunch of six o'clock editions. I'dballed things up lovely, I had! Why, the only times a general officehand ever gets a chance to stand on the Persian rug in the boss's officeis just before he gets the run or is boosted into a five-figure salary.And here I has a twelve-dollar man usin' it like a public receptionhall! It was what was goin' to happen to Mallory that gave me theshivers.
"Torchy," says Mr. Robert, "what's all this?"
"S-s-sh!" says I. "It's Old Home Day, and the lady is handin' outchoc'late creams. Wait up; maybe it'll be your turn next."
"But, see here, I don't understand," says he. "Who are these persons,and why----"
"Ah, say!" says I. "Ain't you got any sportin' blood? Besides, I don'tknow the answer myself."
I could of kept that up just about one more round before I'd fellthrough a crack; but just as Mr. Robert was framin' up another conundrumDicky turns around and spots him.
"Why, hello, Bob!" yells Dicky, as gentle as if he was hailin' someoneacross Broadway. "By Jove, though, I forgot all about you being in theCorrugated too! But of course you are. Sis and I just ran in a minute tolook up Skid. Good old Skid! Great boy, eh, Bob?"
Mr. Robert takes a look over by the window at Mallory, who wasn't seein'a thing but Sis and wasn't hearin' anything but what she was sayin'--andshe was sayin' a lot.
"Is--is that Skid?" says Mr. Robert.
"Oh, come along now, Bob," says Dicky, pokin' him in the vest playful."You don't mean to say you don't know Skid Mallory, the Great Skid, bestquarterback we ever turned out, the one that went through Harvard forforty-five yards, and that with a broken ankle? Don't know Skid? Why,say!"
"I take it all back," says Mr. Robert. "Of course I know him; but not sowell as you do, Dicky. I wasn't one of the coaches, you know, and Ihaven't kept the run of the team for the last year or two. But I'm gladto see the Great Skid. How the deuce does he happen to be up here,though?"
"He-haw!" says Dicky. "That's rich, that is? Shows how much you know ofCorrugated affairs, Bob. Why, man alive, Skid's one of the chaps that'srunnin' your old gent's trust. This is his office you're in now."
"Really!" says Mr. Robert. He takes another look at Mallory, who's deafand dumb and blind to everything but Sis, and then he turns for a goodhard look at me.
I grins kind of foolish and nods. Then I jumps behind Dicky and beginsto wigwag over his shoulder for Mr. Robert to keep it up. I didn't knowwhether he would or not. I wa'n't sure but what he'd think I'd turnedbatty, by the motions I was goin' through; but he's a sport, Mr. Robertis. He didn't know what was on the card; but he takes a chance.
So Dicky waltzes him over
to the pair by the window, and makes Mr.Robert and Mallory acquainted, and jollies 'em both, and all three of'em talk football to Mallory, who blushes worse than ever and don'tknow which way to turn. They keep that up until Dicky pulls out hiswatch, grabs Sis by the arm, and hollers that they've got to make abreak for the Washington Limited. Sis is shakin' good-by with both of'em at once, when she thinks of somethin' funny.
"Oh, Mr. Robert!" says she. "I want to know which of you is who here,don't you know. Is it you that works for Skid, or Skid that works foryou?"
"Chee!" thinks I. "That upsets the soup kettle."
Mr. Robert looks at Mallory, and Mallory looks at him. There was nobreakin' away; for she has hold of a hand apiece. Both of 'em makes astart; but Mr. Robert gets the floor. "Why," says he, "I guess we'reboth working for the Corrugated, only one of us works a little harderthan the other."
"Ah!" says Sis, givin' Mallory a smile that was worth payin' money tosee. "I thought so."
The next minute they makes a dash for an elevator goin' down, and thatpart of it was over. We'd worked the bluff all the way through, and Sishas lugged off the idea that Mallory was at the top of the bunch.
But there was Mr. Robert, waitin' to talk Dutch to us.
Mallory he starts in to say that he's sorry for seemin' so cheeky; butthat's about all he can say.
"Ah, cheese it!" says I, buttin' in. "What do you know about it? It wasme put up the game, and if Mr. Robert had loafed another half an hour atthe club like he usually does, there wouldn't have been any mix up. Say,you leave this to me."
Mallory didn't want to leave it like that; but Mr. Robert was holdin'the door open for him, so he couldn't do anything else. When we had itall to ourselves, the boss ranges me up in front of him for the court ofinquiry session.
"Well?" says he, real solemn.
I takes all that in and gives him the wink. "Say," says I, "didn't Ihave my nerve with me, though?"
He kind of blinks at that; but it don't fetch him.
"Who's Dicky, your whisperin' friend?" says I.
"Nobody much," says he. "His father's a Senator."
"Well, say, now," says I, "you didn't want me to chase a Senator's sonand a real swell girl like Sis off into a place like the general officereception room, did you! And wouldn't it have been a nice break if I'dlet out that we was smotherin' the Great Skid under a twelve-dollarjob?"
"Was that why you had the impudence to appropriate my office?" says he.
"That was part of it," says I.
And that gives me an openin' to tell him the whole tale about Mallory,from the hall bedroom act to the way he'd been postin' himself.
"You think he's a valuable man, do you?" says Mr. Robert.
"Valuable!" says I. "Why, he's all the goods. What if he did learn totalk Greek once? He's forgettin' it, ain't he? And look at the way hestands up to trouble! Don't that show there's good stuff in him?"
"Well," says he, "what would you suggest?"
"Ah, say!" says I. "Couldn't you give a guess? Why, if I was you I'd fixit so that when Sis comes back to town she wouldn't find him on no kid'sjob. I'd give him a show to get his name painted on a door somewhere."
"Torchy," says he, punchin' the button for his secretary, "I shouldn'twonder if we did."