The House of Torchy
Sewell Ford
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
"'Don't!' says Vee. 'You'll spill the coffee.'"]
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THE HOUSE OF TORCHY
BYSEWELL FORD
AUTHOR OFTORCHY, TRYING OUT TORCHY, SHORTY MCCABE, Etc.
ILLUSTRATIONS BYARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN
GROSSET & DUNLAPPUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
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Copyright, 1917, 1918, bySEWELL FORD
Copyright 1918, byEDWARD J. CLODE
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Torchy and Vee on the Way 1
II Vee with Variations 12
III A Qualifying Turn for Torchy 25
IV Switching Arts on Leon 44
V A Recruit for the Eight-three 60
VI Torchy in the Gazinkus Class 79
VII Back with Clara Belle 96
VIII When Torchy got the Call 114
IX A Carry-on for Clara 134
X All the Way with Anna 152
XI At the Turn with Wilfred 172
XII Vee Goes Over the Top 193
XIII Late Returns on Rupert 214
XIV Forsythe at the Finish 232
XV The House of Torchy 250
XVI Torchy gets the Thumb Grip 272
XVII A Low Tackle by Torchy 288
XVIII Tag Day at Torchy's 307
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THE HOUSE OF TORCHY
CHAPTER I
TORCHY AND VEE ON THE WAY
Say, I thought I'd taken a sportin' chance now and then before; but Iwas only kiddin' myself. Believe me, this gettin' married act is the bigplunge. Uh-huh! Specially when it's done offhand and casual, the way wewent at it.
My first jolt is handed me early in the mornin' as we piles off themountain express at this little flag stop up in Vermont, and a roly-polygent in a horse-blanket ulster and a coonskin cap with a badge on itsteps up and greets me cheerful.
"Ottasumpsit Inn?" says he.
"Why, I expect so," says I, "if that's the way you call it.Otto--Otta--Yep, that listens something like it."
You see, Mr. Robert had said it only once, when he handed me thetickets, and I hadn't paid much attention.
"Aye gorry!" says the chirky gent, gatherin' up our hand luggage. "Guessyou're the ones we're lookin' for. Got yer trunk-checks handy?"
With that I starts fishin' through my pockets panicky. I finds arailroad folder, our marriage certificate, the keys to the studioapartment I'd hired, the box the ring came in, and----
"Gosh!" says I, sighin' relieved. "Sure I got it."
The driver grins good-natured and stows us into a two-seated sleigh, andoff we're whirled, bells jinglin', for half a mile or so through thestinging mornin' air. Next thing I know, I'm bein' towed up to a deskand a hotel register is shoved at me. Just like an old-timer, I dashesoff my name--Richard T. Ballard.
The mild-eyed gent with the close-cropped Vandyke and the gold-rimmedglasses glances over at Vee.
"Ah--er--I thought Mrs. Ballard was with you!" says he.
"That's so; she is," says I, grabbin' the pen again and tackin' "Mr. andMrs." in front of my autograph.
That's why, while we're fixin' up a bit before goin' down to breakfast,I has this little confidential confab with Vee.
"It's no use, Vee," says I. "I'm a rank amateur. We might just as wellhave rice and confetti all over us. I've made two breaks already, andI'm liable to make more. We can't bluff 'em."
"Who wants to?" says Vee. "I'm not ashamed of being on my honeymoon; areyou?"
"Good girl!" says I. "You bet I ain't. I thought the usual line, though,was to pretend you'd----"
"I know," says Vee. "And I always thought that was perfectly silly.Besides, I don't believe we could fool anyone if we tried. It's muchsimpler not to bother. Let them guess."
"And grin too, eh?" says I. "We'll grin back."
Say, that's the happy hunch. Leaves you with nothing to worry about. Allyou got to do is go ahead and enjoy yourself, free and frolicsome. Sowhen this imposin' head waitress with the forty-eight bust and the grandduchess air bears down on us majestic, and inquires dignified, "Two,sir?" I don't let it stagger me.
"Two'll be enough," says I. "But whisper. Seein' as we're only startin'in on the twosome breakfast game, maybe you could find something niceand cheerful by a window. Eh?"
It's some breakfast. M-m-m-m! Cute little country sausages, buckwheatcakes that would melt in your mouth, with strained honey to go on 'em.
"Have a fourth buckwheat," says I.
"No fair, keeping count!" says Vee. "I looked the other way when youtook your fifth."
Honest, I can't see where we acted much different than we did before.Somehow, we always could find things to giggle over. We sure had a goodtime takin' our first after-breakfast stroll together down Main Street,Vee in her silver-fox furs and me in my new mink-lined overcoat that Mr.Robert had wished on me casual just before we left.
"Cunnin' little town, eh?" says I. "Looks like a birthday cake."
"Or a Christmas card," says Vee. "Look at this old door with the brassknocker and the green fan-light above. Isn't that Colonial, though?"
"It's an old-timer, all right," says I. "Hello! Here's a place worthrememberin'--the Woman's Exchange. Now I'll know where to go in case Ishould want to swap you off."
For which crack I gets shoved into a snowdrift.
It ain't until afternoon that I'm struck with the fact that neither ofus knows a soul up here. Course, the landlord nods pleasant to me, andI'd talked to the young room clerk a bit, and the bell-hops had allsmiled friendly, specially them I'd fed quarters to. But by then I wasfeelin' sort of folksy, so I begun takin' notice of the other guests andplannin' who I should get chummy with first.
I drifts over by the fireplace, where two substantial old boys aretoastin' their toes and smokin' their cigars.
"Snappy brand of weather they pass out up here, eh?" I throws off,pullin' up a rocker.
They turn, sort of surprised, and give me the once-over deliberate,after which one of them, a gent with juttin' eyebrows, clears his throatand remarks, "Quite bracing, indeed."
Then he hitches around until I'm well out of view, and says to theother:
"As I was observing, an immediate readjustment of international tradebalances is inevitable. European bankers are preparing for it. We arenot. Only last month one of the Barings cabled----"
I'll admit my next stab at bein' sociable was kind of feeble. In frontof the desk is a group of three gents, one of 'em not over fifty or so;but when I edges up close enough to hear what the debate is about, Ifinds it has something to do with a scheme for revivin' Italian opera inBoston, and I backs off so sudden I almost bumps into a hook-beaked olddame who is waddlin' up to the letter-box.
"Sorry," says I. "I should have honked."
She just glares at me, and if I hadn't side-stepped prompt she mighthave sunk that parrot bill into my shoulder.
After that I sidles into a corner where I couldn't be hit from behind,and tries to dope out the cause of all this hostility. Did they take mef
or a German spy or what? Or was this really an old folks' homemasqueradin' as a hotel, with Vee and me breakin' in under falsepretenses?
So far as I could see, the inmates was friendly enough with each other.The old girls sat around in the office and parlors, chattin' over theirknittin' and crochet. The old boys paired off mostly, though some ofthem only read or played solitaire. A few people went out wrapped up inexpensive furs and was loaded into sleighs. The others waved good-by to'em. But I might have been built out of window-glass. They didn't actas though I was visible.
"Huh!" thinks I. "I'll bet they take notice of Vee when she comes down."
If I'd put anything up on that proposition I'd owed myself money. Theycouldn't see her any more'n they could me. When we went out for anotherwalk nobody even looked after us. I didn't say anything then, but I keptthinkin'. And all that evenin' we sat around amongst 'em without bein'disturbed.
About eight o'clock an orchestra shows up and cuts loose with music inthe ball-room, mostly classic stuff like the "Spring Song" and handfulsplucked from "Aida." We slips in and listens. Then the leader gets hiseye on us and turns on a fox-trot.
"Looks like they was waitin' for us to start something," says I."Let's."
We'd gone around three or four times when Vee balks. About twenty-fiveold ladies, with a sprinklin' of white-whiskered old codgers, had filedin and was watchin' us solemn and critical from the side-lines. Some wassquintin' disapprovin' through their lorgnettes, and I noticed a fewwhisperin' to each other. Vee quits right in the middle of a reverse.
"Do they think we are giving an exhibition?" she pouts.
"Maybe we're breakin' some of the rules and by-laws," says I. "Anyway, Ithink we ought to beat it before they call in the high sheriff."
Next day it was just the same. We was out part of the time, indulgin' inwalks and sleigh rides; but nobody seemed to see us, goin' or comin'.And I begun to get good and sore.
"Nice place, this," says I to Vee, as we trails in to dinner thatevenin'. "Almost as sociable as the Grand Central station."
Vee tries to explain that it's always like this in these exclusivelittle all-the-year-round joints where about the same crowd of peoplecome every season.
"Then you have to be born in the house to be a reg'lar person, Isuppose?" says I.
Well, it's about then I notices this classy young couple who are makin'their way across the dinin'-room, bein' hailed right and left. And nextthing I know, the young lady gets her eye on Vee, stops to take anotherlook, then rushes over and gives her the fond clinch from behind.
"Why you dear old Verona!" says she.
"Judith!" gasps Vee, kind of smothery.
"Whatever are you doing up----" And then Judith gets wise to me sittin'opposite. "Oh!" says she.
Vee blushes and exhibits her left hand.
"It only happened the other night," says she. "This is Mr. Ballard,Judith. And you?"
"Oh, ages ago--last spring," says Judith. "Bert, come here."
It's a case of old boardin'-school friends who'd lost track of eachother. Quite a stunner, young Mrs. Nixon is, too, and Bert is a goodmatch for her. The two girls hold quite a reunion, with us men standin'around lookin' foolish.
"We're living in Springfield, you know," goes on Judith, "where Bert ishelping to build another munition plant. Just ran up to spend theweek-end with Auntie. You've met her, of course?"
"We--we haven't met anyone," says Vee.
"Why, how funny!" exclaims Mrs. Nixon. "Please come over right now."
"My dear," says Auntie, pattin' Vee chummy on the hand, "we have allbeen wondering who you two young people were. I knew you must be nice,but--er---- Come, won't you join us at this table? We'll make just asplendid little family party. Now do!"
Oh, yes, we did. And after dinner I'll be hanged if we ain't introducedto almost everybody in the hotel. It's a reg'lar reception, with folksstandin' in line to shake hands with us. The old boy with the eyeawnin's turns out to be an ex-Secretary of the Treasury; an antique witha patent ear-'phone has been justice of some State Supreme Court; and soon. Oh, lots of class to 'em. But after I'd been vouched for by someonethey knew they all gives me the hearty grip, offers me cigars, and hopesI'm enjoyin' my stay.
"And so you are a niece of dear Mrs. Hemmingway?" says old Parrot-Face,when her turn comes. "Think of that! And this is your husband!" And thenshe says how nice it is that some other young people will be up in themornin'.
That evenin' Judith gets busy plannin' things to do next day.
"You haven't tried the toboggan chute?" says she. "Why, how absurd!"
Yep, it was a big day, Saturday was. Half a dozen more young folksdrifted in, includin' a couple of Harvard men that Vee knew, a girlshe'd met abroad, and another she'd seen at a house-party. They was alllive wires, too, ready for any sort of fun. And we had all kinds. Maybewe didn't keep that toboggan slide warm. Say, it's some sport, ain't it?
Anyway, our honeymoon was turnin' out a great success. The Nixonsconcluded to stay over a few days, and three or four of the othersfound they could too, so we just went on whooping things up.
Next I knew we'd been there a week, and was due to make a jump toWashington for a few days of sight-seein'.
"I'm afraid that will not be half as nice as this has been," says Vee.
"It couldn't," says I. "It's the reg'lar thing to do, though."
"I hate doing the regular thing," says Vee. "Besides, I'm dying to seeour little studio apartment and get settled in it. Why not--well, justgo home?"
"Vee," says I, "you got more good sense than I have red hair. Let's!"
