On With Torchy

  Produced by Al Haines

  [Frontispiece: "Well if I ever! Look where your shoulders come!" saysVee.]

  ON WITH TORCHY

  BY

  SEWELL FORD

  AUTHOR OF

  TORCHY, TRYING OUT TORCHY, ODD NUMBERS, ETC., ETC.

  ILLUSTRATIONS BY

  FOSTER LINCOLN

  NEW YORK

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1913, 1914, by

  Sewell Ford

  Copyright, 1914, by

  Edward J. Clode

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I. CHANCING IT FOR VEE II. PULLING A SLEUTH STUNT III. WHEN IRA SHOWED SOME PEP IV. TORCHY BUGS THE SYSTEM V. BREEZING BY WITH PEGGY VI. GLOOM SHUNTING FOR THE BOSS VII. TORCHY IN ON THE DRAW VIII. GLADYS IN A DOUBLE BILL IX. LATE RETURNS ON POPOVER X. MERRY DODGES A DEAD HEAT XI. THE PASSING BY OF BUNNY XII. THE GLAD HAIL FOR TORCHY XIII. AUNTY FLAGS A ROSY ONE XIV. CUTTING IN ON THE BLISS XV. BEING SICCED ON PERCEY XVI. HOW WHITY GUNKED THE PLOT XVII. TORCHY GETS A THROUGH WIRE

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  "WELL, IF I EVER! LOOK WHERE YOUR SHOULDERS COME!" . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

  "BY GORRY!" EXPLODES IRA AS HE GETS HIS FIRST GLIMPSE

  SISTER HAS LANDED A SMACK ON HIS JAW

  BELIEVE ME, IT WAS SOME ARTISTIC MAKEUP!

  "AH, FLUTTER BY, IDLE ONE!" SAYS I

  THEN MY ARM MUST HAVE SLIPPED--AND THE SIDE CLINCH WA'N'T DISTURBED

  WE WAS RIGHT IN THE MIDST OF PRACTISIN' THE SIDEWISE DIP, WHEN WHO SHOULD SHOW UP BUT THE HAPPY BRIDEGROOM!

  WE WAS RIGHT IN THE MIDST Of THE SCRIMMAGE WHEN IN WALKS VEE

  ON WITH TORCHY

  CHAPTER I

  CHANGING IT FOR VEE

  Say, what's next to knowin' when you're well off? Why, thinkin' youare.

  Which is a little nugget of wisdom I panned out durin' a chat I had notlong ago with Mr. Quinn, that I used to work under when I was on thedoor of the Sunday sheet, three or four years back.

  "Hail, Torchy!" says he, as we meets accidental on Broadway. "Stillcarrying the burning bush under your hat, aren't you?"

  I grins good-natured at his old josh, just as I used to about twice aweek regular, and admits that I am.

  "You wa'n't lookin' for me to fade to an ash blond, was you?" says I.

  "Ah!" says he. "I see the brilliance is not all on the outside. Well,what use are you putting it to? Who are you with now?"

  "Same concern," says I. "Corrugated Trust."

  "As First, or Second Vice President?" says he, cockin' his head on oneside humorous.

  "Add 'em together and multiply by three," says I, "then you'll be warm."

  "I don't quite get the result," says he.

  "Ever hear of an office-boy-de-luxe?" says I. "They don't print it onthe letter-heads yet, or paint it on the ground-glass, but that's myreal label. I'm the only one in New York, too."

  Mr. Quinn chuckles and goes off shakin' his head. I expect he'sdisappointed that I've stuck so long in one shop without climbin'further up the ladder. That's what he was always preachin' at me, thisladder-climbin' advice. But say, hod carriers do that. Me for anexpress elevator when the time comes.

  But meanwhile, with a couple of bosses like Old Hickory Ellins and Mr.Robert, it ain't so worse sittin' behind the brass rail. That's onereason I ain't changed. Also there's that little mine enterprise meand Mr. Robert's mixed up in, which ain't come to a head yet.

  Then--well, then, there's Vee. Go on--hand me the jolly! And if youpush me to it I'll admit I ain't any speedy performer at this "Oh,you!" game. Mr. Robert he thinks it's comic, when he has the kiddin'fit on, to remark chuckly, "Oh, I say, Torchy, have you seen Miss Veelately?"

  There's others too, that seems to get a lot of satisfaction shootin'the same thing at me, and they sort of snicker when I get pink in theears. But, say, there's a heap of difference between pickin' peachesfrom an easy chair under the tree, and when you have to shin the gardenwall and reach through the barbed wire ornament on top.

  Course, I ain't comparin' anything--but there's Aunty. Dear old girl!Square as a brick, and about as yieldin'; good as gold too, but worthmore per ounce than any coined at the mint; and as foxy in the mind asa corporation lawyer arguin' before the Rapid Transit Commission. AlsoI'm as welcome to Aunty's eyesight as Eugene V. Debs would be at theUnion League Club--just about. That ain't any idle rumor, either, norsomething that was hinted to me casual. It's first-hand information,hot off the bat.

  "Boy," says she, glarin' at me through her gold lorgnette like I wassome kind of insect specimen, "do I understand that you come here tosee my niece?"

  "Well," says I, "there's you and her--guess!"

  "Humph!" she snorts indignant. "Then I wish you to know that yourvisits are most unwelcome. Is that quite clear?"

  "I get the outline," says I. "But, you see----"

  "No qualifications, absolutely none!" says she. "Good afternoon, youngman. I shall not expect you to return."

  "Oh, well, in that case," says I, sidlin' off, "why--I--I think I'll begoin'."

  It was a smear, that's all. I felt about as thick through as aSaratoga chip, and not half so crisp. Encouragin' finish for anafternoon call that I'd been bracin' myself up to for weeks, wa'n't it?And from all I can gather from a couple of sketchy notes Vee gets aboutthe same line of advice handed her. So there was a debate between herand Aunty. For I expect nobody can lay the law down flat to Veewithout strikin' a few sparks from them big gray eyes.

  But of course Aunty wins out in the end. It's a cinch, with everythingon her side. Anyway, the next thing I knows about their plans is whenI finds their names in the sailin' list, bound for the Big Ditch, withmost everyone else that could get away. And I makes my discovery aboutthree hours after the boat has left.

  But that was in January. And I expect it was a fine thing for Vee,seein' the canal before it revised the geography, and dodgin' all kindsof grip weather, and meetin' a lot of new people. And if it's worthall that bother to Aunty just so anybody can forget a party no moreimportant than me--why, I expect that's all right too.

  But it's just like some folks to remember what they're ordered toforget. Anyway, I got bulletins now and then, and I was fairly wellposted as to when Aunty landed back in New York, and where she unpackedher trunks. That helped some; but it didn't cut the barbed wireexactly.

  And, say, I was gettin' some anxious to see Vee once more. Nearly twoweeks she'd been home, and not so much as a glimpse of her! I'd dopedout all kinds of brilliant schemes; but somehow they didn't work. Nolucky breaks seemed to be comin' my way, either.

  And then, here last Sunday after dinner, I just hauls out that churchweddin' costume I'd collected once, brushes most of the kinks out of myred hair, sets my jaw solid, and starts to take a sportin' chance. Onthe way up I sketches out a scenario, which runs something like this:

  A maid answers the ring. I ask if Miss Vee is in. The maid goes tosee, when the voice of Aunty is heard in the distance, "What! A younggentleman asking for Verona? No card? Then get his name, Hortense."Me to the maid, "Messenger from Mr. Westlake, and would Miss Vee careto take a short motor spin. Waiting below." Then more confab withAunty, and five minutes later out comes Vee. Finale: Me and Veeclimbin' to the top of one of them Riverside Drive busses, while Auntydreams that she's out with Sappy Westlake, the chosen one.

  Some strategy to that--what? And, sure enough, the piece opens a gooddeal as I'd planned; only instead of me bein' alone when I pushes thebutton, hanged if two young chappies that had come up in the elevatorwith me don't drift along to the same apartment door. We swap sort offoolish grins, and when Hortense fin'ly shows up everyone
of us does abashful sidestep to let the others go first. So Hortense opens on whatlooks like a revolvin' wedge. But that don't trouble her at all.

  "Oh, yes," says she, swingin' the door wide and askin' no questions."This way, please."

  Looked like we was expected; so there's no ducking and while we'redrapin' our hats on the hall rack I'm busy picturin' the look onAunty's face when she singles me out of the trio. They was panickythoughts, them.

  But a minute later the plot is still further mixed by the suddenswishy, swirly entrance of an entire stranger,--a tall, thin femalewith vivid pink cheeks, a chemical auburn tint to her raven tresses,and long jet danglers in her ears. She's draped in what looks like ablack silk umbrella cover with rows of fringe and a train tacked to it,and she wears a red, red rose coquettish over one ear. As she swoopsdown on us from the drawin' room she cuts loose with the vivaciouschatter.

  "Ah, there you are, you dear, darling boys!" says she. "And thePrincess Charming is holding court to-day. Ah, Reggy, you scamp! Butyou did come, didn't you? And dear Theodore too! Brave, Sir Knights!That's what you all shall be,--Knights come to woo the Princess!"

  Honest, for awhile there, as this bughouse monologue was bein' putover, I figured I've made a mistake in the floor, and had been let intoa private ward. But as soon as I gets next to the Georgia accent Isuspects that it ain't any case of squirrels in the attic; but just asample of sweet Southern gush.

  Next I gets a peek through the draperies at some straw-colored hairwith a shell-pink ear peepin' from underneath, and I know that whateverelse is wrong don't matter; for over there on the windowseat,surrounded by half a dozen young gents, is somebody very particular andspecial. Followin' this I does a hasty piece of scout work and draws adeep breath. No Aunty looms on the horizon--not yet, anyway.

  With the arrival of the new delegates the admirin' semicircle has tobreak up, and the three of us are towed to the bay window by VivaciousVivian.

  "Princess," says she, makin' a low duck, "three other Knights who woulddo homage. Allow me first to present Mr. Reginald St. Claire Smith.Here Reggy. Also Mr. Theodore Braden. And next Mr.--Mr.--er----"

  She's got to me. I expect her first guess was that I'd been dragged inby one of the other two; but as neither of 'em makes any sign she turnsthem black, dark-ringed lamps inquirin' on me and asks, "Oh, I'm sure Ibeg pardon, but--but you are----"

  Now who the blazes was I, anyway? It all depended on how well postedshe was, whether I should admit I was Torchy the Banished, or invent analias on the spot.

  "Why," says I, draggin' it out to gain time, "you see I'm a--that is,I'm a--a----"

  "Oh, hello!" breaks in Vee, jumpin' up and holdin' out both hands justin the nick of time. "Why, of course, Cousin Eulalia! This is afriend of mine, an old friend."

  "Really!" says Cousin Eulalia. "And I may call him----"

  "Claude," I puts in, winkin' at Vee. "Call me just Claude."

  "Perfectly lovely!" gushes Eulalia. "An unknown knight. 'Deed and youshall be called Claude--Sir Claude of the Golden Crest. Gentlemen, Ipresent him to you."

  We looks at each other sort of sheepish, and most of us grins. All butone, in fact. The blond string bean over in the corner, with thebuttermilk blue eyes and the white eyebrows, he don't seem amused. Forit's Sappy Westlake, the one I run on a siding once at a dance. Thinkof keepin' a peeve on ice all that time!

  It's quite a likely lookin' assortment on the whole, though, allcostumed elegant and showin' signs of bein' fairly well parlor broke.

  "What's the occasion?" says I on the side to Miss Vee. "Reunion ofsomebody's Sunday school class?"

  She gives me a punch and smothers a snicker, "Don't let Cousin Eulaliahear you say such a thing," says she.

  We only had a minute; but from what she manages to whisper durin' thegeneral chatter I makes out that this is a little scheme Eulalia'dplanned to sort of launch Vee into the younger set. She's fromAtlanta, Cousin Eulalia is, one of the best fam'lies, and kind of aperennial society belle that's tinkled through quite some seasons, butrefuses to quit. Just now she's spendin' a month with Fifth-ave.friends, and has just discovered that Vee and her are close connectedthrough a step-uncle marryin' a half-sister of Eulalia'sbrother-in-law, or something like that. Anyhow, she insists on thecousin racket, and has started right in to rush Vee to the front.

  She's some rasher, Eulalia is, too. No twenty-minutes-to-or-aftersilences while she's conductin' affairs. Course, it's kind of frothystuff to pass for conversation; but it bubbles out constant, and sheblows it around impartial. Her idea of giving Cousin Vee a perfectlygood time seems to be to have us all grouped around that windowseat andtake turns shootin' over puffs of hot air; sort of a taffy-throwin'competition, you know, with Vee as the mark.

  But Vee don't seem tickled to death over it. She ain't fussed exactly,as Eulalia rounds us up in a half-circle; but she colors up a littleand acts kind of bored. She's some picture, though. M-m-m-m! And itwas worth while bein' one of a mob, just to stand there watchin' her.

  I expect the young college hicks felt a good deal the same about it asme, even if they was havin' hard work diggin' up appropriate remarkswhen Eulalia swings the arrow so it points to them. Anyway, they doestheir best to come up with the polite jolly, and nobody makes a breakto quit.

  It's durin' the tea and sandwich scramble, though, that Cousin Eulaliagets her happy hunch. Seems that Sappy Westlake has come forward withan invite to a box party just as Vee is tryin' to make up her mindwhether she'll go with Teddy Braden to some cotillion capers, or accepta dinner dance bid from one of the other young gents.

  "And all for Wednesday night!" says she. "How stupid of you, with theweek so long!"

  "But I'd planned this box party especially for you," protests Sappy.

  "Oh, give someone else a chance, Westlake," cuts in Reggy. "That's thenight of our frat dance, and I want to ask Miss Vee if----"

  "What's this all about?" demands Eulalia, dancin' kittenish into thelimelight. "Rivalry among our gallant knights? Then the PrincessCharming must decide."

  "Oh, don't, Cousin Eulalia," says Vee, wrinklin' her nose the leastbit. "Please!"

  "Don't what?" says Eulalia, raisin' her long arms flutterin'. "Mydear, I don't understand."

  "Ah, she's hintin' for you to ditch the Princess stuff," I puts in."Ain't that it?" and Vee nods emphatic.

  Eulalia lets on that she don't know. "Ditch the--why, what can he meanby that?" says she. "And you are a Princess Charming; isn't she, boys?"

  Course the bunch admits that she is.

  "There, you see?" goes on Eulalia. "Your faithful knights acclaim you.Who says that the age of chivalry has passed? Why, here they are,everyone of them ready to do your lightest bidding. Now, aren't you,Sir Knights?"

  It's kind of a weak chorus; but the ayes seem to have it. What otheranswer could there be, with Vee gazin' flushed and pouty at 'em overthe tea urn?

  "Really, Eulalia, I wish you wouldn't be so absurd," says Vee.

  "My dear Cousin Verona," coos Eulalia, glidin' up and huggin' herimpetuous, "how could anyone keep their heads straight before suchabsolutely distracting beauty? See, you have inspired them all withthe spirit of chivalry. And now you must put them to the test. Namesome heroic deed for each to perform. Begin with Reggy. Now whatshall it be?"

  "Fudge!" says Vee, tossin' her head. "I'll do nothing so perfectlymushy."

  But Cousin Eulalia wa'n't to be squelched, nor have her grand schemesidetracked. "Then I declare myself Mistress of the Lists," says she,"and I shall open the tournament for you. Ho, Trumpeter, summon thechallengers! And--oh, I have it. Each of you Sir Knights must choosehis own task, whatever he deems will best please our Princess Charming.What say you to that?"

  There's a murmur of "Good business!" "Bully dope!" and the young gentsbegin to prick up their ears.

  "Then this is how it stands," goes on Eulalia, beamin' delighted."Between now and eight o'clock this evening each knight
must do hisvalorous best to win the approval of our Princess. Hers it shall be todecide, the prize her gracious company for next Wednesday night. Comenow, who enters the lists?"

  There's some snickerin' and hangin' back; but fin'ly they're all in.

  "All save the Unknown Knight," pipes up Eulalia, spottin' me in therear. "How now, you of the Crimson Crest? Not showing the whitefeather, are you?"

  "Me?" says I. "Well, I don't quite get the drift of the game; but ifit'll make you feel any better, you can count me in."

  "Good!" says she, clappin' her hands. "And while you are afield I mustleave too--another tea, you know. But we all meet here again at eightsharp, with proof or plunder. Teddy, have you decided what to attempt?"

  "Sure," says he. "Me to find the biggest box of candy that can bebought in New York Sunday evening."

  "Oh, splendid!" gurgles Eulalia. "And you, Mr. Westlake?"

  "Orchids," says Sappy. "Grandmother has dandy ones at her place up inWestchester, and I can make there and back in my roadster if I'm notpinched for speeding. I'm going to have a try, and maybe I'll have tosteal the flowers too."

  "There!" says Eulalia, pattin' him on the back. "That's a knightlyspirit. But what of Crimson Crest? What will you do?"

  "The game is to spring something on Miss Vee better'n what the othersput over, is it?" says I.

  "Precisely," says Eulalia, allowin' two of the young gents to help heron with her wraps. "Have you thought what your offering is to be?"

  "Not yet," says I. "I may take a chance on something fresh."

  They was all pilin' out eager by that time, each one anxious to getstarted on his own special fool stunt, so, while I was mixed up in thegen'ral push, with my hat in my hand and my coat over my arm, it didn'tstrike me how I could bolt the programme until I'm half crowded behindthe open hall door. Then I gets a swift thought. Seein' I wouldn't bemissed, and that Vee has her back to me, I simply squeezes in out ofsight and waits while she says by-by to the last one; so, when shefin'ly shuts the door, there I am.

  "Why, Torchy!" says she. "I thought you had gone."

  "But it wa'n't a wish, was it?" says I.

  "Humph!" says she, flashin' a teasin' glance. "Suppose I don't tellthat?"

  "My nerve is strong today," says I, chuckin' my hat back on the rack;"so I'll take the benefit of the doubt."

  "But all the others have gone to--to do things that will please me,"she adds.

  "That's why I'm takin' a chance," says I, "that if I stick around Imight--well, I'm shy of grandmothers to steal orchids from, anyway."

  Vee chuckles at that. "Isn't Cousin Eulalia too absurd?" says she."And since you're still here--why--well, let's not stand in the hall.Come in."

  "One minute," says I. "Where's Aunty?"

  "Out," says she.

  "What a pity!" says I, takin' Vee by the arm. "Tell her how much Imissed her."

  "But how did you happen to come up today?" asks Vee.

  "There wa'n't any happenin' to it," says I. "I'd got to my limit,that's all. Honest, Vee, I just had to come. I'd have come if there'dbeen forty Aunties, each armed with a spiked club. It's been months,you know, since I've had a look at you."

  "Yes, I know," says she, gazin' at the rug. "You--you've grown,haven't you?"

  "Think so?" says I. "Maybe it's the cut-away coat."

  "No," says she; "although that helps. But as we walked in I thoughtyou seemed taller than I. Let's measure, here by the pier glass. Now,back to back. Well, if I ever! Look where your shoulders come!"

  "No more than an inch or so," says I, gazin' sideways at the mirror;and then I lets slip, half under my breath, a sort of gaspy "Gee!"

  "Why the 'Gee'?" says she, glancin' over her shoulder into the glass.

  "Oh, I don't know," says I; "only I don't mind bein' grouped like this,not a bit."

  "Pooh!" says she, but still holdin' the pose.

  "Seems to me," says I, "that Cousin Eulalia is a slick describer. ThatPrincess Charming business ain't so wide."

  "Silly!" says she. "Come and sit down."

  She was steerin' for the windowseat; but I picks out a cozy littlehigh-backed davenport and, reachin' for one of her hands, swings herinto that. "Just room for two here," says I.

  "But you needn't keep my hand," says she.

  "No trouble," says I. "Besides, I thought I'd inspect what kind of amanicure you take of. M-m-m-m! Pretty fair, no hangnails, all thehalf-moons showin' proper, an----" I broke off sudden at that and satstarin' blank.

  "Well, anything else?" says she.

  "I--I guess not," says I, lettin' her hand slip. "You've chucked it,eh?"

  "Chucked what?" says she.

  "Nothing much," says I. "But for awhile there, you know, just for funyou was wearin' something of mine."

  "Oh!" she flashes back. "Then at last you've missed it, have you?"

  "With so much else worth lookin' at," says I, "is it a wonder?"

  "Blarney!" says she, stickin' out her tongue.

  "Did Aunty capture it?" says I.

  Vee shakes her head.

  "Maybe you lost it?" I goes on. "It wa'n't much."

  "Then you wouldn't care if I had?" says she.

  "I wanted you to keep it," says I; "but of course, after all the rowAunty raised over it, I knew you couldn't."

  "Couldn't I, though?" says she, and with that she fishes up the end ofa little gold neck chain from under some lace--and hanged if thereain't the ring!

  "Vee!" says I, sort of tingly all over as I gazes at her. "Say, you'rea corker, though! Why, I thought sure you'd----"

  "Silly boy!" says she. "I'll just have to pay you for that. You willthink horrid things of me, will you? There!"

  She does things in a flash when she cuts loose too. Next I knew shehas her fingers in what Eulalia calls my crimson crest and is rumplin'up all them curls I'd been so careful to slick back. I grabbed herwrists, and it was more or less of a rough-house scene we was indulgin'in, when all of a sudden the draperies are brushed back, and in stalksAunty, with Cousin Eulalia trailin' behind.

  "Ver-ona!" Talk about havin' a pitcher of cracked ice slipped downyour back! Say, there was more chills in that one word than ever blewdown from Medicine Hat. "What," goes on Aunty, "does this mean?"

  "It--it's a new game," says I, grinnin' foolish.

  "As old as Satan, I should say!" raps out Aunty.

  "Why," squeals Cousin Eulalia gushy, "here is our Unknown Knight, thefirst to come back with his tribute! Let's see, what was it you saidyou were going to do? Oh, I know--take a chance on something fresh,wasn't it? Well?"

  "Ye-e-es," says I. "And I guess I did."

  "Trust him for that!" snorts Aunty. "Young man, at our last interviewI thought I made it quite clear that I should not expect you to return?"

  "That's right," says I, edgin' around her towards the door. "And youwa'n't, was you?"

  Some glance she shot over; but it didn't prove fatal. And as I ridesdown I couldn't help swappin' a wink with the elevator boy.

  "Feelin' frisky, eh?" says he. "So was them other young guys. One of'em tipped me a half."

  "That kind would," says I. "They're comin' back. I'm escapin'."

  But, say, who do you guess wins out for Wednesday night? Ah, rattle'em again! Eulalia fixed it up. Said it was Vee's decision, and shewas bound to stick by the rules of the game, even if they did have tothrow a bluff to Aunty. Uh-huh! I've got three orchestra seats rightin my pocket, and a table engaged for supper afterwards. Oh, I don'tknow. Eulalia ain't so batty, after all.