Part 14 (1/2)

Listenin' to 'em was sort of interestin' to me, but Miss Prentice don't conceal the fact that she's bored stiff. Meanwhile we was wadin'

through a first-cla.s.s feed. And about nine o'clock Valentina announces that she'll have to be gettin' back to the schooner or pop'll be worried. Warrie says he'll send her down in a cab, and asks me if I'll go along to see that she gets there safe, which I says I will. She was bein' helped into the ulster when Warrie remembers someone else in Sand Spur.

”Oh, by the way,” says he; ”what about Elmer?”

Valentina laughs easy.

”Oh, he's the same Elmer,” says she. ”He's still foreman out at the swamp.”

”Comes over every Sunday night as usual, eh?” asks Warrie.

She nods. ”Wednesdays now, too,” says she.

”Then,” says Warrie, ”you and Elmer are to--er--”

”Ah reckon,” says Valentina. ”Sometime this spring.”

”Well, well!” says Warrie. Then, as kind of an afterthought, he holds out his hand. ”My best wishes for you both,” says he.

”Thanks,” says Valentina, and gives him about half a smile. Next she glances towards Gladys. ”Say,” she goes on, ”is--is she the one?”

”Yes,” says Warrie.

”Same to you,” says Valentina. ”Good-by.”

They shook hands once more--sort of a long, lingerin' shake, with their eyes steady to each other; and then--well, then I steers Valentina out past the grinnin' cloak-room boys and stows her in the taxi. She didn't have much to say on the way down. Nor I. And, take it from me, it's some ride from the Tarleton down to Pier 9, East River.

First thing next morning Mr. Robert wants to know how the reunion pa.s.sed off, and he listens bug-eyed as I describes the way we rung in on the dinner-party with Gladys.

”The deuce you did!” says he. ”Just like Warrie to do that, though.

But, if I know Miss Prentice at all, she will pay him back for that little prank.”

”Now you've said something!” says I.

”And Valentina,” he adds reflectively, ”is on her way back to Sand Spur, is she?”

”I expect that's where she belongs,” says I; ”and yet--”

”Well, yet what?” demands Mr. Robert, sort of quizzin'.

”I was only thinkin',” says I, ”that if the cards could have been shuffled different, with Gladys startin' in Sand Spur and Valentina on the Avenue, Warrie might not have so many yawns comin' to him across the dinner-table. But then, maybe Elmer of the Swamp deserves some lucky breaks. Who knows?”

CHAPTER VI

A BALANCE FOR THE BOSS

You see, I was openin' the mornin' mail. Hope you get that part. Not that I want to seem chesty over it. Just goes to show, that's all.

For, of the whole force here at the General offices, there's just three of us can carve up the mornin' mail without gettin' fired for it. And the other two are Old Hickory and Mr. Robert.

H-m-m-m! Business of lookin' important. That's what it is to be a private sec. But, between you and me, this slicin' and sortin'