Part 14 (2/2)

to be any too sociable by dinner time that night, 'less'n he'd hit up the bucketshop, which the chances was against. So it was my turn to make a foxy play.

”He's due here before long, that's a fact,” says I, ”but there's no tellin'. You see, there's a big deal on, and Mr. Piddie's gone downtown, and----”

”Oh!” says Mrs. Piddle, her eyes s.h.i.+nin'. ”Then he has some important business engagement?”

You couldn't help seein' how she had it framed up,--the whole Corrugated Trust and half of Wall Street holdin' its breath while hubby, J.

Hemmingway Piddie, Esq., worked his giant intellect for the good of the country.

”That's it,” says I. ”I couldn't say pos'tive that he'd be as late as four o'clock; but----”

”Oh! then we'll not wait,” says she, ”Come, Hemmingway, we must go home.”

”Don't I det my new s'oes?” says Hemmy.

There was a proposition for you! The kid was runnin' true to form and stickin' to the main line. No side issues for him! Pop might be a big man, and all that; but his size didn't cut much ice alongside of the new-shoes prospect. Things was beginnin' to look squally, and Mrs.

Piddie's mouth corners was saggin' some, when I has a thought.

”Hold on,” says I. ”Maybe he's left a note or something for you.”

See what it is to have a little wad stowed away in the southwest corner of your jeans? I slips through into the main office, gets one of the typewriter girls to address an envelope to Mrs. Piddie, jams a sawbuck into it, and comes out smilin'.

”Maybe this'll do as well as Pop himself,” says I. ”Feels like it had long green in it,” and the last I heard of little Hemmy he was tellin'

the elevator man about the ”new s'oes” that was comin' to him.

”It's a fool way to lend out coin,” thinks I; ”but what's the diff? That kid's got his hopes set on bein' shod to-day, and Piddie's bound to make good sometime.”

Piddie didn't look it, though, when he drifts in about one-thirty. If he'd had a load on his mind earlier in the day, he'd got somethin' more now. Just sittin' at the desk doin' nothin made the dew come out on his n.o.ble brow like it was the middle of August. He was too much of a wreck to stand any jos.h.i.+n'; so I let him alone, not even tellin' him about the fam'ly visit.

The first thing I knows he comes over to me, his jaw set firmer'n I ever see it shut before, and a kind of s.h.i.+fty look in his eyes. He hands me a letter and a package.

”Torchy,” says he, ”take these down to that address just as soon as you can. You've got to go quick. Understand?”

”Fourth speed, advanced spark, that's me!” says I, grabbin' my hat and coat. ”Free track for the Piddie special! Honk, honk!” and I jams him up against the letterpress as I makes a rush for the door.

When I gets into the subway I sizes up the stuff I'm carryin'. Well say, it ain't often I gets real curious; but this was one of them times. I started in by rollin' a pencil under the envelope flap while the gum was moist. Not that I'd made up my mind to rubber; but just so's I could if I took the notion. And, sure enough, I got the notion, or it got me.

Chee! I near slid off the rattan seat when I reads that note. Guess I must have sat there, starin' bug-eyed and lookin' batty, from 14th to Wall. Do you know what that mush-head of a Piddie was at? He was givin'

an order to bolster up Blitzen by buyin' up to a hundred thousand shares, and in the package was a bunch of gilt-edged securities to cover the margins.

Now wouldn't that jiggle the grapes on sister's new lid? Piddie, a narrow-gauge, dime-pinchin' ink-slinger, doin' the bull act like he was a sooty plute from Pittsburg! That's what comes of swallowin' the get-rich-fast bug.

Well, when I gets out at the Street I didn't have any programme planned.

First I strolls down to the number on the letter and takes a look at the buildin'. That was enough. There was some good names on the hall directory; but most of 'em was little, two-room, fly-by-night firms, with a party 'phone for a private wire and a mail-order list bought off'm patent medicine concerns. The people Piddie was doin' business with was that kind.

Next I takes a walk around into Broad-st., where the mounted cops keep the big-wind bunch roped in so's they can't break loose and pinch the doork.n.o.bs off the Subtreasury. The ear-m.u.f.f brigade was lettin'

themselves out in fine style, tradin' in Ground Hog bonds, Hoboken gas, Moons.h.i.+ne preferred, and a whole lot of other ten-cent shares, as earnest as if they was under cover and biddin' on Standard Oil firsts.

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