Torchy Part 43

About the third call catches her ear. She sort of starts and gazes at the crowd kind of puzzled. There's such a mob, though, she don't pick me out. I could see her turn to Marjorie and say something, and then I gets wise to the fact that the four-eyed gent with the bristly hair and the half gray set of shavin' brush mustaches, standin' next to Marjorie, was one of their party. Miss Vee leans over and pa.s.ses along some remark to him, and he shrugs his shoulders and says something that makes 'em both laugh.

"If that's the Count," thinks I, "he's a punk specimen."

A couple of minutes later the boat comes alongside and the pa.s.sengers break away from the rail to get in line for the gangplank. As I'm there to welcome Miss Marjorie Ellins, I has to post myself near the E section, and inside of fifteen minutes she's all through havin' her suitcase and steamer trunk pawed over, and leavin' the hold baggage to be claimed later, we streams out to where I had a cab waitin'.

"Is it all aboard, Miss Marjorie?" says I.

"Not yet," says she. "You see, I've asked Vee to come home with me for dinner--the girl I met on the steamer. You don't mind waiting, do you?"

Did I? Say, n.o.body would suspect it, I guess, by the grin I had on when she and Aunty and the four-eyed party comes trailin' out.

"Say, Miss Marjorie," says I, "is that Count Schutzenbund?"

"Schlegelhessen," says Marjorie, "and he's a perfect----"

"Yes, I've heard he was," says I. "Little antique, though, ain't he?"

"Why, he isn't forty!" says Marjorie. "And he's just too----"

There wa'n't time for any more bouquets, though; for the trio was too close. Must have been some of a surprise for Vee to see me waitin'

there, and for a bit she don't seem to make out just who it is. That only lasts a second, though. Then them gray eyes of hers lights up, and them thin lips curls into a smile, and she holds out both hands in that quick way of hers.

"Why, it's Torchy, isn't it?" says she, half laughin'.

"Uh-huh," says I, lettin' the grin spread wider. "Can't shake the name or the hair."

"Never try," says she. "Look, Aunty, here's Torchy!"

"Torchy?" says the wide old girl, inspectin' me doubtful through her lorgnette. "Why, Verona, I don't remember----"

"Oh, yes, you do, Aunty," says Miss Vee. "Anyway, I've told you about him, and it's so jolly to have some one to meet us. Thank you, Torchy.

Now let's see, Marjorie, how do we divide up? Aunty goes to her hotel--and--and where do you go, Count?"

"Me, I am--what you call--perplex," says the Count, and he sure looked it. "But where the young ladies go, there I will follow. _Hein?_"

He shrugs his shoulders again and puts on such a comical face that it's no wonder the girls giggled. And that one act maps out the Count for me.

He's just one of them middle aged cut-ups that's amusin' to have around, if the sessions ain't too frequent. Follow the young ladies, would he?

Say, there was only three inside seats to my taxi, and I hadn't planned on ridin' with the driver.

"Lemme fix that for you, Count," says I. "Hey, Cabby!" and I whistles up a second taxi. "What's the number, ma'am?" I asks of Aunty. "Oh, Perzazzer hotel. Get that, Mr. Shuffer? Here you are, Count, right in here!"

"But is it that--er--the young ladies, you see," he protests. "I haf bromise myself the bleasure to----"

"Yes, that'll be all right too," says I. "They'll do the followin', though, about a block behind. In you go, now!" and I shoves him alongside of Aunty, shuts the door, and gives the startin' signal.

Maybe it was a nervy thing, shuntin' the Count off like that, and Marjorie seems sort of disappointed and dazed to find he ain't comin'

with us, but by the twinkle in Miss Vee's eyes I guessed I hadn't overplayed my part. Anyway, we had a nice chatty ride on the way up, with Marjorie doin' most of the chattin'. Looked like that was going to be about as far as I'd figure too, for there wa'n't a chance of my gettin' a word in edgewise; but when we fetched up in front of the Ellins' house Miss Vee breaks in with delay orders.

"No, Marjorie," says she; "you first. Run in and see if it's all right; and if there isn't a dinner party on, or a houseful of guests, I'll come. No, I shall wait until you do."

Course, she didn't plan it that way; but it gives me about six minutes that was all to the good.

"You didn't mind my sidetrackin' the Count, eh?" says I.

"It was lovely--and perfectly absurd!" says Vee. "You know he bores Aunty to death, and Aunty bores him. He had planned on meeting Marjorie's mother, too."

"Then I mussed things up, didn't I?" says I.

"I believe you did it purposely, you wretch!" says she, shakin' a finger at me.

"Who wouldn't?" says I. "See what I get by it!"

"Silly!" says she. "I've a mind to rumple those red curls."

"Go on," says I, takin' my hat off. "They'd wiggle for joy."

"Then I'll do nothing of the kind," says she. "You haven't even said you were glad to see me."

"I'm keepin' it a dead secret," says I. "What happened to Europe; was it on the fritz?"

"Poky," says she. "And they found out I was no musical genius, after all. Aunty's disgusted with me."

"She ought to take something for her taste," says I.

"Oh!" says she, tiltin' her head on one side. "Then you still approve of me?"

"That's the only motto on my wall," says I, "only I put it stronger."

"Silly!" says she once more.

And then--well, I was watchin' the pink spread up her cheeks, and was sort of gazin' into them big gray eyes, and gen'rally takin' one of them long, lingerin' looks; and we was both leanin' back not so very far apart, with the slides of the cab shuttin' everything else out--and then all of a sudden I heard her sort of whisper "Well?"--and--and--Ah, say!

With a pair of cherry ripes as close as that, what else was there to do?

"Why, Torchy!" says she, jumpin' away. "What made you dare----Quick, now, here comes Marjorie. Over on the front seat! And--and perhaps I shall see you again sometime."

"Your eyesight'll be bad if you don't, Vee," says I. "Good-by."

Just before the Ellins' front door closed behind her I caught the wave of a handkerchief; so I guess she can't be so awful mad. Ride back to the office? Say, I paid off the taxi and floated down Fifth-ave. as light as if it was paved with gas balloons.

"Huh!" grunts Mr. Robert, after I'd made my report. "Brought home a steamer friend, did she? Who did you say it was?"

"Well, between you and me," says I, "it's Vee. You remember--the one at the girls' boardin' school tea party when----"

"Eh?" says he. "Ah, that one? Then it wasn't--er--exactly a hards.h.i.+p for you to meet this particular steamer, eh, Torchy?"

"Do I look it?" says I.

And Mr. Robert he winks back; for, as I happen to know, he's been there himself. It's that friendly wink though, that makes me remember puttin'

up that game on him with the fake message, and somehow I felt cheap and mean. Here he was, treatin' me white and square, and I'd been handin'