Part 39 (1/2)

”Gee!” says I. ”I've got a notion to stick around and watch how you come out.”

”No, don't,” says he. ”I--I'll let you know. Yes, honest I will.

Goodnight and--good-by.” He kept his word as well as he could, too. The postmark on the card was six A.M.; but I guess it must have been dropped in the box earlier than that. All it says is:

Twenty gallons in the tank, and I'm off at four o'clock. I shall go straight out to sea and then up, up. I've never been much good; but I mean to finish in style. T. T.

Now, what would you say to a batty proposition like that? I couldn't tell whether it was a bluff, or what. And I waits four days before I had the nerve to go and see.

Sister says she ain't seen him since last Monday. And there was no flyer in the shed. n.o.body around the place knew what had become of it, either.

Well, it's been two weeks since I got that postal. What do I think? Say, honest, I don't dare. But at night, when I'm tryin' to get to sleep, I can see Tink, sittin' in between all them wires and things, with the wheel in his hand, and them big eyes of his gazin' down calm and satisfied, down, down, down, and him ready to take that one last dip to the finish. And, say, about then I pull the sheets up over my eyes and s.h.i.+ver.

”Piddie,” says I, ”you got more sense than you look to have. Anyway, you know when to sidestep the nutty ones, don't you?”

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 the latest magazines, that I'd been promoted from head office boy to heir apparent or something like that. I expect some kids would have stood on one leg in the front hall and held their breath; but why not make yourself to home when you get the chance? I knew the boss was takin' his time goin' through all them papers I'd brought up, and that when he finished 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 that begins to drift out from the next room. First off I couldn't make out whether it was some one havin' a tooth plugged, or if it was a case of a mouse bein' loose at a tea party. Course, the squeals and giggles I could place as comin' from Miss Marjorie Ellins. Maybe you remember about Mr. Robert's heavyweight young sister that wanted to play Juliet once?

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 of Baltimore.

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

Miss Marjorie was all got up cla.s.sy in pink and white, and she sure does look like a wide, corn fed Venus. The other is a slim, willowy young lady with a lot of home grown blond hair, a cute chin dimple, and a pair of big dark eyes with a natural rovin' disposition. And she's hobble skirted to the point where her feet was about as much use as if they'd been tied in a bag.

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

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

”'Deed and 'deedy, he was!” says Mildred. ”Positively the handsomest man I ever saw! I thought I could forget him; but I couldn't, Madge, I couldn't! And only think, he is coming this very night, and not a soul knows 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 and pattin' my red hair soothin'.

”Ah, say, reverse English on the tootsy business!” says I. ”This ain't any heart-throb matinee. G'wan!”

”Why, Torchy!” says Marjorie, real coaxin' ”I thought we were such good friends!”

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