Torchy As A Pa

ay eyes and the poker face was that he must be dead from the

od lines and the kind of profile that had most of the lady typists stretchin' their necks. But there's no more expres

And when Vincent tells him he ain't he makes no move to go, but stands there starin' straight through the wall out into Broadway. Looks like he might be one

ssage?"

n maybe you'll leav

' to do that, an

ls, eh? Why, you're the one who's going to handle that

m not," says t

ays I,

," says he. "Tell

o hand that to him yourself, Mr. Wells.

about ten feet behind the back of your head and answers most of your questions by blinkin' his eyes, it kind of gets on your nerves. Still, I couldn't let him get away. Why, Mr. R

don't know just what. Anyway, they pinned all sorts of medals on him for it, made him a colonel, and when it was all over turned him loose as casual as any buck private. That's the army for you. And the railroad people he'd been with befo

pots, runnin' a right of way smack

ays he, thro

tracks that got up them

ve helped

me relieved when Mr. Robert blew in and took him off my hands. Must have been an hour later before he comes ou

yllable champion broke the

s to quit," s

o breakin' the long distance no

he seems determined not to go to work for the Corrugated. I did discover one thi

e tried to get through a whole evenin

p in Boston a month or so back. He'd been on hand all right, was right on the spot while she was waitin' for him; but instead of callin' around with the taxi and the orchids he

he Silent! Say, you can't always

ms he didn't see the other woman, had almost forgotten she lived there. But why he deserted his dinner

nless he can prove he w

's no more responsible than that he couldn't undertake an important piece of work

combination, Miss Betty

ere you put her she's the life of the party, Betty is. Chatter! Say, she could make an afternoon tea at the Old Ladies' Home sound like a Rotary Club l

he's been since she found out about Nicky. Only we couldn't imagine what was the matter. She's not used to being forgotten and I suppose she lost no time in telling Nicky wher

rench into the gears of commerce, eh?" says I.

e didn't, that's all," says Mr. Robert. "But unt

says I. "If you could plot out a ge

e. "Thank you, Torchy. It shall be done. Get

ram mapped out. He don't hesitate to step on the pedal. Be

t we're having a dinner party out at the house. B

," says I. "But I expe

er. That's why I figure so heavy on the Corrugated pay roll. But say, when I finds myself plan

f glass beads and a little pink tulle and there she is. There's more or less of her, too. And me thinkin' that Theda Bara stood for the last word in bare. I h

ss Burke" with them, Nicky with his eyes in his plate and Betty throwin' him frigid glances that should have chilled his soup. And the next thing I know she's turned to me and is cuttin' loose with her whole bag of tric

she, "I simply adore

picked out this part

he arm. "Tell me, how do you get

I, "but I do demonstratin

ean over and chuckle on my shoulder. "Bob calls you

see how I can s

of this new near-

amed it was a poor judge of distance." Which

ful!" says she. "Why h

t was safe," says I. "They

ut go on. Tell me a funny story

r servin' the

e. "I don't bel

know I'm pri

yes," says she. "Ther

Besides, I always forget the good

else is being so stupid. And you're

h one while I was waitin' at the club for

ces Betty vivacious. "Torch

up like the candle shades an

r!" says M

adds Mrs

l. "I hope it isn't that one about a Mr. C

at Mr. Robert's club while a bunch of young

, setting hens?"

on amendment. You know, building something with a kick to it. I didn't get the details, but they use corn-meal, sugar, water, raisins and the

y of the young men succeeded; that is, in

together in some hotel room and opened a jug one of 'em had brought along in case Harvard should win, and after that 10

cky?" asks Mr. Robe

for the first time seems to have

fingers in a water glass trickle down without stopping to taste it. From then on he was a different man. He forgot all about being a Delta Kappa, whatever that is; forgot that he had an aunt who still lived on Beacon Street

a certain potency," says M

ut lettin' out a yip. Then he has a bright idea, which he proceeds to state. Maybe they don't know anything about the glorious product of the settin' hen down in New Haven. And who needs it mo

the way to the South station. He's a solemn-faced, dignified party who don't seem to catch what it's all ab

rdon?" as

' which he was one of 'em. Him and the Harvard guy got real chummy, and the oftener they sampled the home brew the more they thought of each other. They discovered they'd both served in the same division on the other side and

old days, eh, Nicky?

head. "You say they were n

ong. But Chester, the Hittite, looks bored and weary. 'Oh, shut up!' says he. But the other one can't be choked off that way. He just starts in again. So Chester leads him out to the curb and hails a taxi driver. 'Take him away,

't really take him all tha

n observation balloon and a tongue that feels like a pussycat's back. And when he finally gets down to the desk he asks the clerk where he is. 'Bancroft House, Worcester, sir

," says Mr. Rob

says Betty. "

oston the night before, sort of a reunion of officers who'd been in the army of occ

exclai

icky. Then they look

st what it was. "Anyway," says I, "he didn't get there. He got to Worcester

ne could,"

dinner that I got a slan

s she, "where

him drift out on the

?" say

no

ut to him, will

hing,"

get him cornered. "Was that the real reas

hangin' his head, "b

you say so, you si

"You see, I hadn't heard the re

cky!" s

I takes as my cue to slide back into the house. Half an h

s me on the back. "I say, Torchy," says he, "as a raconteur y

in't got the settin' hen habit and the taxi