by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER V
WITH ELMER LEFT IN
All I can say is that it was a busy day at the Corrugated. Course, Imight go into details, just as I might put mustard in my coffee, orlock Piddie in the bond safe. Neither of them performances would bequite so fruity as for me to give out particulars about this specialdirectors' meetin' that was goin' on. Speakin' by and large, though,when you clean up better'n thirty per cent. on a semi-annual, you gotto do some dividend-jugglin', ain't you? And with them quiz committeesso thick, it's apt to be ticklish work.
Anyway, Old Hickory has chewed up four brunette cigars the size ofyoung baseball bats, two of the Board have threatened to resign, and ahurry call has just been sent out for our chief counsel to report, whenMr. Robert glances annoyed towards the door. It's nobody butfair-haired Vincent, that has my old place on the gate, and he's merelypeekin' in timid, tryin' to signal someone.
"For heaven's sake, Torchy," says Mr. Robert, "see what that boyswants. I've already waved him away twice. Of course, if it isanything important--"
"I get you," says I, passing over to him the tabulated reports I'd beensittin' tight with. Then I slips out to where Vincent is waitin'.
"Buildin' on fire?" says I.
"Why, no, sir," says be, goin' bug-eyed.
"Oh!" says I. "Then who you got waitin' out there--Secretary Danielsor the Czar of Russia?"
Vincent pinks up like a geranium and smiles shy, like he always doeswhen he's kidded. "If you please, sir," says he, "it's only a lady; tosee Mr. Mason, sir."
"Huh!" says I. "Lady trailin' old K. W. here, eh? Must be one of thefam'ly."
"Oh no, sir," says Vincent. "I'm quite sure it isn't."
"Then shunt her, Vincent," says I. "For you can take it from me, K. W.is in no mood to talk with stray females at the present writing. Shooher."
"Ye-e-e-es, sir," says he; "but--but I wish you would see her a momentyourself, sir."
"If it's as bad as that," says I, "I will."
Pretty fair judgment Vincent has too, as a rule, even if he does looklike a mommer's boy. Course, he can't give agents and grafters thequick back-up, like I used to. He side-tracks 'em so gentle, they goaway as satisfied as if they'd been invited in; and I don't know buthis method works just as well. It ain't often they put anything overon him, either.
So I'm surprised and grieved to see what's waitin' for one of ourplutiest directors outside the brass rail. In fact, I almost gasps.Lady! More like one of the help from the laundry. The navy blue printdress with the red polka dots was enough for one quick breath, just byitself. How was that for an afternoon street costume to blow into theCorrugated general offices with on a winter's day? True, she's wearin'a gray sweater and what looked like a man's ulster over it; but there'sno disguisin' the fact that the droopy-brimmed black sailor was a lastsummer's lid. Anyway, the whole combination seems to amuse the ladytypists.
This party of the polka dots, though, don't seem to notice the stirshe's causin', or don't mind if she does. A slim, wiry young femaleshe is, well along in the twenties, I should say. What struck me mostabout her was the tan on her face and hands and the way her hair wasfaded in streaks. Sort of a general outdoor look she had, which is oddenough to see on Broadway any time of year.
"Was it you askin' for Mr. Mason?" says I, beginnin' to suspect thatVincent had made a mistake, after all.
"Yes indeed, suh," says she, sort of soft and slurry. "Ahm th' one.You jess tell him Valentina Tozier's out hea-uh. He'll know."
"Oh, will he?" says I, a bit sarcastic. "Sorry, Valentina, but Icouldn't think of disturbin' Mr. Mason now. Maybe you don't know it,but he's a mighty busy man."
"Well, there!" says she. "Think of that!"
Then I knew why it was Vincent had taken a chance on crashin' into adirectors' meetin'. He'd been hypnotized by Miss Tozier's smile. Itain't any common open-faced movement, believe me. It's about thefriendliest, most natural heart-to-heart smile I ever got in range of.And, somehow, it seems to come mostly from the eyes; a chummy,confidential, trustin' smile that sparkles with good faith and goodnature, and kind of thrills you with the feelin' that you must be a lotbetter'n you ever suspected. Honest, after one application I forgetsthe queer rig she has on, the mud-colored hair, and the way her chestslumps in. Whoever she might be and whatever she might want, I'mstrong for givin' her the helpin' hand. If I could have gone in andled old K. W. out by the arm, I'd have done it. But you couldn't havepulled him away from that Board scrap with a donkey-engine. He wasunloadin' a ten months' grouch against some of Old Hickory's petpolicies, Mr. Mason was, and he was enjoyin' himself huge, even if hedid know he was due to be steam-rollered when the vote was taken.
"See here, Miss Tozier," says I, "it wouldn't do you a bit of good tosee Mr. Mason now. He's all lathered up and frothin' at the mouth.But in an hour or so he'll be calmed down, maybe before. I tell youwhat; you stroll out and take in the store windows for a spell and thendrift back later. Come up here if you like, or you can wait in thearcade and nail him as he comes down the elevator."
She thanks me real folksy, pats Vincent on the shoulder, and starts forthe corridor with a long, easy swing that some of these barefoot poemdancers couldn't execute to save their necks.
"Huh!" says I to Vincent. "Put the spell on us, didn't she?"
All through the rest of that messy session I'd glance now and then atK. W. and wonder where and how he ever happened to meet up withValentina. I was meanin' to pass him the word how she was waitin' tosee him; but after he'd registered his big howl, and Old Hickory hadfirst smeared him and then soothed him down, he left so sudden that Ididn't have a chance.
Besides, I was some rushed myself. There was a lot of odds and ends tobe tied up after the meetin', and two or three of them resolutions thatwas jammed through called for quick action early next day. That's whatkept me and Piddie and Mr. Robert doin' so much overtime. About sixo'clock we had coffee and sandwiches sent in, and it must have beenwell after seven before we locked the big safes and called it a day.Piddie had already beat it to catch a late train to Jersey, so therewas only the two of us that dodged the scrubwomen on our way down tothe street.
Mr. Robert had a taxi waitin' to take him to the club, and I wasdebatin' whether I needed a reg'lar dinner or not, when I gets aglimpse of someone leanin' patient against a pillar opposite the mainelevator exit.
"Sufferin' sisters!" says I. "Valentina!"
"I beg pardon?" says Mr. Robert.
"Say," says I, "help me put a smilin' party on the track of K. W.Mason, will you? Here she is."
I expect Mr. Robert would have ducked if he could, after one view ofthe polka-dot dress and the rusty straw lid; but there was Valentinacomin' straight at us.
"For the love of Mike!" says I. "You ain't been waitin' all this time,have you?"
"Right hea-uh," says she. "Ah reckon Ah done missed him."
"Why," says I, "Mr. Mason left hours ago. Must be something importantyou want to see him about, eh?"
"Ah don't know as it is," says she; "only Ah promised, ef ever Ah gotto Noo Yawk, Ah'd look him up. He made me. And Ah sure would like tosee Warrie mahself."
"Warrie!" says I. "Oh, gosh! Why, you mean young Mr. Mason--Warren,don't you?"
She nods.
"Well, say, that's too bad," says I. "My fault, though. But I neverthought of Warrie as the one. Why, he hasn't been with the Corrugatedfor over a year now."
I might have added that we'd had hard work missin' him at any time.Not that he wasn't all right in his way, but--well, it was just a caseof bein' more ornamental than useful. A bit thick in the head, Warrie.But it was a stunnin' head--reg'lar Apollonaris Belvidere. He had wavybrown hair, and big, peaceful brown eyes. Stood a little over six feettoo, and they say that when it came to ridin' a spotted pony andswingin' a polo mallet he was all there. But in the bond department hewas just under foot.
So, when he develops rheumatism in one shoulder and a specialist ordershi
m South, it wasn't any serious jolt to the business world. And whenhe finally shows up again it didn't take much urgin' from Mr. Robert toinduce him to pass up his financial career for good. He was engaged tobe married anyway, and that should have been enough to occupy his mind.
Where he'd run across Valentina was the big puzzle, and the easiest wayto solve it was to ask her. Which I does.
"Why, at Sand Spur Point," says she.
"Sounds cute," says I. "Is it on the map?"'
"It's on mine," says Valentina.
"Sand Spur, did you say?" puts in Mr. Robert. "Isn't that the place hediscovered when he was sent South to bake out his shoulder? Florida,isn't it?"
"West coast," says Valentina.
"Of course," says Mr. Robert. "He talked a lot about it. Seemed tohave grown rather fond of the people there."
"We all thought a heap of Warrie," says Miss Tozier, lettin' loose thatmesmerizin' smile of hers.
Mr. Robert gets the full force of it, for he'd been lookin' her oversort of curious; and blamed if he don't fall for it 'most as hard as meand Vincent.
"By George!" says he. "I'm sure Warrie would feel badly if he missedseeing anyone from Sand Spur. You must let me know where you'restopping. I'll send him word."
"Wouldn't do a bit of good in the world," says Valentina, "for Ah'm notstopping anywhere. You see, Ah come up with pop on a lumber-schooner,and we'll be headed out past Sandy Hook by sunrise."
"Can't we locate Warrie to-night some way?" I asks.
Mr. Robert shrugs his shoulders.
"We can," says he. "I happen to know where he is at this moment." Thenhe whispers, "Dining at the Tarleton; Miss Prentice is with him."
"Gee!" says I.
Maybe you've seen pictures of this young society queen that's annexedWarrie? I had. That's why I took such a long breath before askin',"Would you take a chance?"
"Eh?" says Mr. Robert.
Then, as the idea strikes in, he develops that eye twinkle.
"Why," he goes on, "I see no serious objection. Surely she might sparehim for five minutes. Yes, of course. You may have my taxi if you'lldrop me at the club first. Let's do it."
So that's how I come to be interviewin' a chesty head waiter at theTarleton twenty minutes later. From where I stood I could see WarrieMason well enough, but I has to write out a message and have it takenin. Him and Miss Prentice are havin' dinner all by themselves, andthey sure make a swell-lookin' pair. Warrie he looks classy inanything, but in evenin' clothes he's a reg'lar young grand duke; whileMiss Prentice--well, she's one of these soft, pouty-lipped, droopy-eyedcharmers, the kind you see bein' crushed against some manly shirt bosomon the magazine covers. I watches her nod careless as Warrie explainswhat's in the note, and the next minute he's out givin' me the cordialhail.
"What!" says he. "A friend from Sand Spur? By Jove! It--it can't beValentina, can it?"
"She's the one," says I. "Goin' back early in the mornin' too, so Ididn't know but you might like to step out and--"
"Step out nothing!" says he. "Bring her in. There's only Gladys, andwe're just starting dinner. I want you both to join us."
"Wha-a-at?" I gasps. "Lug Valentina--in there!"
"Most certainly," says he.
"But see here, you big boob," says I, "have you got any idea how she'scostumed?"
He laughs. "Let's see," he goes on, "it ought to be a dark blue printwith red polka dots. That used to be her Sunday dress."
"You win," says I. "The styles in Sand Spur ain't changed any. Butthis is Fifth Avenue, remember."
"Torchy," says he, droppin' one of his big paws on my shoulder, "what Ishall always remember about Valentina Tozier is this: that when shepicked me up out on the Gulf I was in a bad way. I'd been rollingaround in a rummy old motor-boat for hours and hours, with a stalledengine, and a norther howling down the coast. Came sailing out in acrazy catboat, Valentina did, and towed me in. She knew nothing aboutwho I was, mind you, but that made no difference to her or Pop Tozier.From then on there wasn't anything in Sand Spur too good for me. Andnow--but where is she?"
Honest, in all I'd seen of him at the Corrugated, I'd never knownWarrie Mason to act so much like a live one. There was no stoppinghim. Before I could register any more protests, he'd hauled Valentinaout of the cab, taken her by the arm, and was steerin' her slam intothe middle of the Tarleton's Looie Cans dinin'-room. The haughty headwaiter lets out one gasp and steadies himself against a marble pillar.As for Miss Prentice, she takes one look at what Warrie is towin' in,and goes pink in the ears. Then she stiffens, from the jaws down.
But Warrie don't seem to be wise to the fact that he's pullin' anythingodd. He acts just as natural as if he'd picked up one of the youngerset.
"Gladys," says he, "this is Valentina Tozier, that I've told you somuch about. Valentina, I want you to know Miss Prentice."
"Ah!" says Gladys, a bit choky and archin' her eyebrows sarcastic."I--I recall the name."
You'd 'most thought Valentina would have been fussed to flinders aboutthen; but, beyond actin' a little dazed, she don't show it. She lets acouple of French waiters peel off the faded ulster and the graysweater, and, believe me, when the whole of that polka-dot costume isrevealed she's some conspicuous. For a second it looked like Gladyswas goin' to freeze with horror; but, after givin' Valentina theonce-over, she just lifts her shoulders a trifle and indulges in apanicky little giggle.
For a second it looked like Gladys was goin' to freezewith horror; but she just gives Valentina the once-over and indulges ina panicky little giggle.]
Of the two of 'em, I will say that Valentina takes it easier, for thatdinner dress of Miss Prentice's must have jarred her some. ButValentina only stares for a minute, and then manages to work up one ofthem friendly smiles.
Warrie don't get any of this by-play at all. Soon as he's throughshootin' orders to the waiter, he turns to Valentina. "Well, well!"says he enthusiastic. "This is a treat. Did you come up by train orsteamer?"
"Schooner," says Valentina. "You know all that cypress you saw 'emyankin' out of the swamp back of the Point? Well, suh, it's lumbernow, every stick. Sold, too. That's what me and pop came up for."
"You don't say!" says Warrie. "How much?"
"Near nine thousand," says she.
"Whe-e-e-ew!" says Warrie. "Now I suppose you'll be moving into Tampa."
"No," says Valentina; "we're fixin' to buy another swamp."
Then they both laughed, like it was some huge joke.
"But how is everyone?" goes on Warrie. "Uncle Jake still going outafter stone-crabs?"
"Every mornin'," says Valentina. "And they're runnin' fine thiswinter, too. He put near a bushel on the schooner before we sailed.We had 'em all the way up."
"M-m-m-m!" says Warrie, smackin' his lips. "Remember the ones weroasted that day?"
"'Deed I do," says she. "You didn't want to try 'em at first."
"Wasn't I all kinds of a chump, though?" says he. "And that firstchicken pillau you made! Say!
"You know," says Warrie, turnin' to Gladys, "it was Valentina whoactually knocked out that rheumatism of mine. Did it with GreenSprings water and fresh limes. Awful dose! But inside of two weeksshe had me rowing a boat."
"Really!" says Gladys, smotherin' a yawn.
"Don't you believe him, Miz Prentice," protests Valentina. "It wasjust livin' a month in Sand Spur. That would cure anyone of anything."
"Sand Spur!" echoes Gladys. "It must be a wonderful place."
Valentina and Warrie swaps grins.
"It's a dozen shacks strung along two snaky wagon ruts through thesand," says Valentina, "a few pines and live-oaks, a whole heap ofrazor-backs, and us Crackers dodgin' between. That's Sand Spur."
"Oh, a little more than that," breaks in Warrie. "You forget the rosesand the yellow jasmine climbing over the shacks, the Spanish mossfestooning the oaks, the mocking-birds singing from every tree-top, theblack cypress behind the pines, and ou
t front the jade-green Gulf wherethe sun goes down so glorious. You forget the brilliant mornings andthe wonderful soft moonlight nights."
Well, that's the way them two went on, like a couple of kids talkin'over a summer vacation. I gathered that Warrie had simply quit thesanatorium where he'd been played for a good thing, and settled down inSand Spur with the Toziers; gettin' fat on the weird dishes Valentinacould cook, and havin' the time of his life. Seems as if he'd madefriends with the whole population, for he had to ask about all of 'emby their front names.
Listenin' to 'em was sort of interestin' to me, but Miss Prentice don'tconceal the fact that she's bored stiff. Meanwhile we was wadin'through a first-class feed. And about nine o'clock Valentina announcesthat she'll have to be gettin' back to the schooner or pop'll beworried. Warrie says he'll send her down in a cab, and asks me if I'llgo along to see that she gets there safe, which I says I will. She wasbein' helped into the ulster when Warrie remembers someone else in SandSpur.
"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 theswamp."
"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 holdsout his hand. "My best wishes for you both," says he.
"Thanks," says Valentina, and gives him about half a smile. Next sheglances 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 theireyes steady to each other; and then--well, then I steers Valentina outpast the grinnin' cloak-room boys and stows her in the taxi. Shedidn'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 reunionpassed off, and he listens bug-eyed as I describes the way we rung inon 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 thatlittle prank."
"Now you've said something!" says I.
"And Valentina," he adds reflectively, "is on her way back to SandSpur, 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 beenshuffled different, with Gladys startin' in Sand Spur and Valentina onthe Avenue, Warrie might not have so many yawns comin' to him acrossthe dinner-table. But then, maybe Elmer of the Swamp deserves somelucky breaks. Who knows?"
