Part 11 (2/2)

”There ain't any gettin' away from a name like that,” says I.

”Why,” says she, doin' her best to call up a smile, ”what a bright young man you are!”

”Specially on top,” says I, throwin' a wink at Marie.

”Ye-es,” says Aunt Laura, ”I always did think that copper-red shade of hair was real pretty. Come right in, Torchy, while Marie gets you some cake and a cup of tea.”

”I ain't turnin' the shoulder to any cake,” says I; ”but you can cut out the tea.”

Well, say, inside of three minutes from the start I'm planted comf'table in one of the libr'y chairs, eatin' frosted cake with both hands, while Marie's off hustlin' up lemonade and fancy crackers.

Course, it was somethin' of a shock, such a quick s.h.i.+ft as that. I ain't got a glimmer as to what Aunt Laura's end of the game was; but so long as the home-made pastry holds out I was as good as nailed to the spot.

She seems to get a heap of satisfaction watchin' me eat, almost as much as though she was feedin' ground gla.s.s to her best enemy. You've seen that kind, that you can stand well enough until they begin to grin at you. Aunt Laura's bluff at smilin' was enough to make a cat get its back up, and you could tell she didn't really mean it, as well as if she'd said, ”Now I'm goin' to give you an imitation of somebody that's pleased.”

And all the time she was dealin' out a line of talk that was as smooth as wet asphalt. Most of it was hot air that she said Benny'd been givin'

to her about me, and how sweet Mildred thought I was.

That should have been my cue; but I was too busy with the cake.

”Miss Morgan is such a dear girl, isn't she?” says Aunt Laura.

”Uh-huh,” says I, pokin' in some frostin' that had lodged on the outside.

”You are quite well acquainted with her, aren't you?” says she.

”Um-m-m-m,” says I.

”Let's see,” goes on Aunt Laura, ”what is it she did at the office!”

”Chickety-click, ding-g-g!” says I, makin' motions with my fingers.

”Oh, typewriting!” says she. ”But I suppose she was very skillful at it?”

”Oh, she was a bird!” says I.

See what was happenin'? I was bein' pumped. It was more'n that too.

Everything I knew about Mildred, and a lot I guessed at, was emptied out of me like she was usin' one of these vacuum cleaners on my head. When I gets to telling about the place out West where Mildred lived before she and her maw hit New York, Aunt Laura jumps up.

”Oh, I know some people who lived there once,” says she. ”I wonder if any of them knew Miss Morgan?”

With that she picks up the desk 'phone and gives a call. Did they know any Miss Morgans out there? Yes, Mildred Morgan. Really! A brother too?

How interesting! Who was he, and what was he doing last? What! In the State penitentiary! That was enough for Aunt Laura. She hangs up the receiver and says to me:

”Boy, when you get back to the office tell Mr. Robert I want to see him.

<script>