CHAPTER XII
IN WHICH JOHNNY EVEN DOES BUSINESS AT THE BABIES' FUND FAIR
"I wish I could write poetry," regretted Johnny, looking across atConstance Joy in the violet booth.
"Why don't you try it?" asked Polly Parsons, following his gaze andcomprehending his desire perfectly, for she, too, was a rabidConstancite.
"I did," he confessed with a disappointed laugh. "I hadn't the nerve tobe mushy enough, though--and nothing else seems to be real poetry. Igot one line that listened like the goods, but I couldn't match it up:'As I lie awake and look at the stars--' Pretty good start, eh? How doyou find a rhyme for it?"
"You go down through the alphabet," Polly advised him, rather proud tobe able to answer him so promptly. "Bars, cars, fars, jars--that way,you know. How I found out is that Sister Winnie writes so much poetry."
"She's a great kid," laughed Johnny. "Where is she?"
"Round here some place, giving orders to Sammy Chirp. Why are youloafing this afternoon? You're supposed to be making five thousanddollars an hour, but I don't see any chance for it here."
"It's a holiday," he retorted. "You're loafing yourself. I see it's onthe program that you're to sell a quarter's worth of violets and asmile, for five dollars a throw at the boutonniere booth. Notice how Isaid boutonniere?"
"You got it out of a book," charged Polly disdainfully. "I calledConstance over from the candy booth to take my place because agray-haired rusher came back seven times to have me pin violets on hiscoat--and I couldn't smile any more. There he goes now. That's hissecond trip for Constance."
"This is a cruel world. I suppose it would fuss her all up if I droppedhim out of a window," Johnny observed wistfully.
"Constance doesn't need help. Just watch her!" And Polly grinnedappreciatively as Constance, recognizing and sorting the totteringlady-killer at a glance, took his money handed him a nosegay and a pin,and returned to the back of the booth to arrange her stock:
A huge blot of orange and a thin streak of lavender paused on the otherside of the palms. Johnny wondered to see these two enemies together,but no man could know the satisfaction they took in it.
"The violet booth," read the big blot of orange, adjusting her goldlorgnette to the bridge of her globular nose and consulting hercatalogue. "Friday afternoon: Polly Parsons and Mrs. Arthur Follison.That is not Mrs. Follison in the booth, is it?"
"Oh, no, Mrs. Guff!" protested the thin streak of lavender in a raspinglittle lavender voice. "Mrs. Follison, though not a doll-face--indeed,far from it--is of most aristocratic bearing."
"I suppose that person in the booth, then, is the adopted actress,"guessed Mrs. Guff. "Any one can tell that's beauty and movement of theprofessional type."
Johnny looked at Polly with hasty concern, but that young lady wasenjoying the joke on Constance and gripped his arm for silence.
"One can quite understand how poor Billy Parsons might becomeinfatuated with her doll-face," returned Miss Purry pityingly, sinceshe was herself entirely free from the crime of doll-facedness; "butthat the Parsons should adopt such a common person merely because Billydied before he could marry her was inconsiderate of the rest of ourclass."
"The artfulness of her!" exclaimed the thick one, lorgnetting thegraceful Constance with a fishy eye as the temporary flower girljoyously greeted Ashley Loring and Val Russel and Bruce Townley, pinnedbouquets upon them and exchanged laughing banter with them.
"Dreadful!" agreed the shocked thin one. "Those are the very wiles bywhich doll-faced stage women insnare our most desirable young men."
Constance looked about just then in search of Polly, and her eyeslighted as they saw Johnny standing with her.
"Oh, Polly!" she called.
"Coming, Constance!" returned the hearty and cheery voice of Polly fromjust behind the critics.
The ladies in lavender and orange were still gasping when Johnny Gamblepassed them with Polly. He had made up his mind about the river-frontproperty.
Loud acclaim hailed Polly and Johnny, for where they went there waszest of life; and the boys, knowing well that Johnny never woreflowers, made instant way for him at the violet booth.
"I'll take some blue ones, lady," announced Johnny gamely, intending towear them with defiance.
"I'll give you the nearest we have, mister," laughed Constance, andpromptly decorated him.
Since this was the closest her face and eyes had ever been to him, heforgot to pay her and had to be reminded of that important duty byPolly and all the boys in unison. There was a faint evasive trace ofperfume about her, more like the freshness of morning or the delicacyof starlight than an actual essence, he vaguely thought with a gropingreturn to his poetic inclination. He felt the warmth of her velvetcheek, even at its distance of a foot away, and there seemed to be apulsing thrill in the very air which intervened. For a startled instanthe found himself gazing deep down into her brown eyes. In that instanther red lips curved in a fleeting smile--a smile of the type whichneeds moist eyes to carry its tenderness. It was all over in a flash,only a fragment of a second, which seemed a blissful pulsing eternity;and at its conclusion he thought that her finger quivered as it brushedhis own, where he held out the lapel of his coat, and her cheek paledever so slightly--but these were dreams, he knew.
"I'm next, I think," grated a usually suave voice which now had adecided tinge of unpleasantness; and Paul Gresham, selecting a bunch ofviolets from the tray, held them out toward Constance, impatient to endthe all too pretty tableau.
"Next and served," Polly briskly told him; and, taking the boutonnierefrom his fingers, she whisked it into place and pinned it and extractedhis money--all apparently in one deft operation.
"Thanks," said Gresham, blinking with the suddenness of it all andsweeping with a glance of gloomy dissatisfaction, Polly, the bouquet,Constance and Johnny. "I thought you were to be in the caramel booth,Constance."
"I'm just going back," she informed him, pausing to straighten Johnny'slapel, patting it in place and stepping back to view the result with acritical eye. It seemed to need another coaxing bend and another pat,both of which she calmly delivered.
A handsome passing couple caught Johnny's eye--a keen andvigorous-looking elderly gentleman, and Springtime come among them inthe pink and white of apple blossoms--sweet and fresh and smiling; asguileless as the May itself, but competent!
"Excuse me," said Johnny, and tore himself away from the girl whosenatural beauty made Mrs. Slosher an exquisite work of art. "Beg yourpardon, Mr. Slosher."
Mr. Slosher turned and smiled.
"Hello, Mr. Gamble!" he greeted him, while Mrs. Slosher gave him abright and cheery little nod. "I played old-fashioned army poker withColonel Bouncer and Ben Courtney and Mort Washer and Joe Close lastnight--and the old robbers skinned me out of thirty-two dollars. Theyspoke of you during the game and I guess you could get backing to anyamount in that crowd."
"Thanks for the tip," returned Johnny. "I may need it."
"You're going to give us our apartment-house property, aren't you?"Mrs. Slosher knew by his very appearance.
"It's only a matter of closing the deal," Johnny told her with aperfectly justifiable smile which Constance, from a distance,criticized severely. He drew an envelope from his pocket and took fromit a paper which he passed to Mr. Slosher.
It was a written offer from the De Luxe Apartments Company for threehundred thousand dollars.
"That makes my offer, then--at five per cent, advance--three hundredand fifteen thousand," figured Slosher. "Is that a bargain?"
Johnny, glancing contentedly about the big inclosure, saw Jim Guffwaiting impatiently for a chance to speak with him.
"It's a bargain," he agreed, and pretty little Mrs. Slosher nodded herhead vehemently with innocent joy.
Gresham passed them by and tipped his hat to Mrs. Slosher, includingMr. Slosher in the greeting. A pleasant idea struck Johnny.
"You scarcely intend to build your colored apartment-house under yourown name?" he suggested.
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"Indeed, no!" laughed Mrs. Slosher happily. "All we wish is the result.We ask for no credit."
"Moreover," warned Mr. Slosher, "I wouldn't care to have my purposeknown until after I have sold my own residence. I am a little worried,however, about the detail you suggest. No man of any consequence wouldinjure the good will of his fellows by standing sponsor for such aventure."
"I think I know your man," stated Gamble with pleasant anticipation."I'll tell you about him if you'll be careful not to let him or anybodyelse know that I recommended him."
"I can figure out sufficient reasons for that," replied Slosher. "Is hereliable?"
"He can give you security--and I suppose you had better exact it,"advised Johnny. "He is the man who first secured the option from MissPurry."
"What is his name?"
"Collaton," and Johnny gazed serenely after Gresham.
"I'll send for him in the morning," decided Mr. Slosher.
When Johnny returned to the violet booth he found there Winnie andSammy Chirp, the latter with all his pockets and both his arms full ofWinnie's purchases and personal belongings, inextricably mixed withsimilar articles belonging to Polly; and there was a new note ofusefulness which redeemed somewhat the feebleness of his smile. Loringwas helping Sammy to adjust his burdens; and Winnie, with the aid ofthe mirror in her vanity box, was trying the effect of violets close toher eyes. Johnny waited patiently for Loring to get through and then,despite Polly's protest, dragged him away.
"I've arranged for the first dent in Gresham and Collaton," heannounced, and outlined the program which later on was carried out tothe letter. "I've fixed to have some valuable property placed inCollaton's name, with Gresham as security. When that is done I want youto go to Jacobs and play a mean trick on him. Make him serve thatattachment on Collaton's ostensible property. Collaton, havingconfessed judgment on the note, can not fight it--and Gresham will haveto foot the bill."
Self-contained and undemonstrative as Loring was in public, he,nevertheless, gave way to an uncontrollable burst of laughter whichhumiliated him beyond measure when he discovered the attention he hadattracted.
Five Thousand an Hour: How Johnny Gamble Won the Heiress Page 12
