Part 48 (1/2)

”Eh?” says I. ”Why, that's fine--I mean, for Auntie. Ripping, eh, what? Much obliged.”

The foxy old girl. She'd never mentioned it. And if I hadn't found out just as I-- But I did. It simplifies things a lot. That is, it would unless-- Here I grabs the 'phone again and calls up Vee.

”Auntie's going out to dinner to-night,” says I.

”Yes, I know,” says Vee. ”She has just told me. I am not included.”

”Then whisper,” says I. ”Revise that wardrobe trunk of yours like you expected a cold winter in Jamaica. Have a bag ready, too, and a traveling dress handy.”

”But why, Torchy?” she insists.

”Leave it to me,” says I. ”We'll be up about 8:30.”

”We?” she asks.

”Now be good,” says I, ”and you may be happy. Also get busy.”

You see, I figured that what she didn't know she couldn't worry about, nor discuss with Auntie. Besides, it was all too hazy in my head for me to sketch it out very clear to anyone.

Honest, I don't see now how I kept from gettin' things bugged, for I sure was cras.h.i.+n' ahead reckless. I felt like I'd been monkeyin' with a flyin' machine until I'd got it started and had been caught somewhere in the riggin' with n.o.body at the wheel. But I was glad of it.

Mr. Robert helped out wonderful. When I stops packin' my suitcase long enough to remark, ”But say, if it does work, where am I headed for?”

he's right there with the useful information.

”Here!” says he. ”Your tickets and drawing-room reservation. It's a nice little place up in Vermont--quiet, refined, comfortable, all that sort of thing. Train at 10:45.”

”Oh!” says I. ”Then that's all right. Lemme see, where's that other sock?”

Say, I'd even forgot who all I'd asked to be on hand. That was what I was checkin' up when I rode past Auntie's floor on the elevator. I finds Vee some excited and more or less curious.

”Please,” says she, ”what is it all about?”

”It's a little game,” says I, ”ent.i.tled ditching Jamaica. There'll be some of our friends here directly to join in.”

”Torchy,” says Vee, starin' a bit scared, ”you--you mean that-- Anyway, I should change my frock, I suppose?”

”If you do,” says I, ”couldn't you make it that pink one, with the flimsy pink hat?”

”You goose!” says she. ”If you like, though. Why, there is someone now!”

”That'll be Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ellins,” says I. ”You'll have to show speed.”

Trust Vee. Just the' same, I don't know where there's another girl that could dress for the big event in less'n half an hour, while the guests was arrivin'. Next came Mr. Robert's sister, Marjorie, towin'

her Ferdie along. Aunt Zen.o.bia and my Uncle Kyrle and Aunt Martha breezed in soon after, with Old Hickory and Mrs. Ellins right behind 'em. Then Piddie, who'd put on his evenin' clothes over in Jersey at 5:30 and had been on the trolley most of the time since.