Author: Sewell Ford
Category: Humorous
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CHAPTER VI
WHEN SKEET HAD HIS DAY
There's one thing about bein' a private sec,--you stand somewhere on thesocial list. It may be down towards the foot among the discards; butyou're in the running.
Not that I'm thinkin' of havin' a fam'ly crest worked on my shirtsleeves, or that I'm beginnin' to sympathize with the lower clawsses.Nothing like that! Only it does help, when Marjorie, the boss's marrieddaughter, has planned some social doin's, to get an invite like areg'lar guy.
What do you know too? It's dance! Not out at their country place,either. She'd dragged Ferdie into town for a couple of weeks, and they'dbeen stayin' at the Ellins's Fifth-ave. house, just visitin' and havin'a good time. That is, Marjorie had. Ferdie, he spends his days mopin'about the club and taggin' Mr. Robert.
"Better sneak off up to the Maison Maxixe with me," says I, "and brushup on your hesitation."
A look of deep disgust from Ferdie. "I'm not a dancing man, you know,"says he.
"Both feet Methodists, eh?" says I.
Ferdie stares puzzled. "It's only that I'm sure I'd look absurd," sayshe.
"For once," says I, "you ain't so far from wrong. I expect you would."
Even that don't seem to please him, and he refuses peevish to trailalong and watch me blow myself to a pair of dancin' pumps. Gee! but thissociety life runs into coin, don't it? I'd dropped into one of themswell booterers and was beefin' away at the clerk about havin' to paysix-fifty just for a pair of tango moccasins, when I hears someone onthe bench back of me remark casual:
"Nine dollars? Very well. Send them up to my hotel. Here's my card."
And as there's somethin' familiar about the voice I takes a peek over myshoulder. But neither the braid-bound cutaway fittin' so snug at thewaist, nor the snappy fall derby snuggled down over the lop ears,suggested any old friends. Not until he swings around and I gets a viewof that nosy profile do I gasp any gasps.
"Sizzlin' Stepsisters!" says I. "If it ain't Skeet Keyser!"
"I--ah--I beg pardon?" says he, doin' it cold and haughty. Blamed if Idon't think he meant to hand me the mistaken identity dope first off;but after another glance he thinks better of it. "Oh, yes," says he,sort of languid, "Torchy, isn't it?"
"Good guess, Skeet," says I, "seein' it's been all of two years sinceyou used to shove me my coffee reg'lar at the----"
"Yes, yes," he breaks in hasty; "but--I--ah--I have an appointment. Gladto have seen you again."
"You act it," says I. And then, grabbin' him by the sleeve as he'sbackin' off, I whispers, "What's the disguise, Skeet?"
"Really, now!" he protests indignant.
"Oh, very well, very well!" says I. "But how should I know if someonehas wished a life income on you? Congrats."
"Ah--er--thanks," says he. "I--I'll see you again--perhaps."
I loved the way he puts that last touch on too, and you could almosthear the sigh of relief as he fades down the aisle, leavin' me in onestockin' foot gawpin' after him.
No wonder I'm left open faced! Skeet Keyser in a tail coat, orderin'nine-dollar pumps sent to his hotel! Why, say, more'n once I've stakedhim to the price of a twenty-cent lodgin', and the only way I ever gotany of it back was by tippin' him off to this vacancy on the coffee urnat the dairy lunch. Used to be copy boy on the Sunday, Skeet did; butthat was 'way back. It didn't last long either; for he was just as punka performer at that as he ever was at any of the other things he'stackled.
Gettin' the can tied to him was always Skeet's specialty. No mysteryabout that, either; for of all the useless specimens that ever graftedcigarettes he was about the limit. All he lacks is pep and bean and afew other trifles. You wouldn't exactly call him ornamental, either. No,him and that Apolloniris guy was quite diff'rent in their front and sideelevation. Mostly arms and legs, Skeet is, and sort of swivel-jointedall over, with a back slope to his forehead and an under-cut chin.Nothin' reticent about his beak, though. It juts out from the middle ofhis face like the handle of a lovin' cup, and with his habit ofstretchin' his neck forward he always seems to be followin' a scent,like one of these wienerwurst retrievers.
Brought up somewhere back of Jefferson Market, down in old GreenwichVillage--if you know where that is. He's the only boy in a fam'ly offive, and I understand all the Keyser girls have done first rate; onebein' forelady in a big hair-dressin' joint, another married to thelieutenant of a hook and ladder company, and two well placed in service.
It was through bein' in on a little mix-up Skeet had with one of hissisters that I got so well posted on the fam'ly hist'ry. Must have beenmore'n a year ago, while Old Hickory was laid up at home there for aspell, and I was chasin' back and forth from the Corrugated to theEllins house most every day. This time I hears a debate goin' on down atthe area door, and the next thing I knows out comes Skeet, assistedactive by the butler.
Seems that one of the new maids is his sister Maggie, and he'd just beencallin' friendly in the hopes of sep'ratin' her from a dollar or so. Itwa'n't Maggie's day for contributin' to the prodigal son fund, though,and Skeet was statin' his opinion of her reckless when the butlerinterfered. Come near losin' Maggie her job, that little scene did; butshe promises faithful it sha'n't happen again, and was kept on.
"Blast her!" says Skeet to me later. "She's just as bad as the rest of'em. They're all tightwads. Why, even the old lady runs me out now whenI happen to be carryin' the banner and can't come across with my littleold five of a Saturday night! I might starve in the streets for all theycare. But I'll show 'em some day. You'll see!"
Hanged if it don't look like he'd turned the trick too; for, as I'vehinted, Skeet is costumed like a lily of the field. But how he'd managedto do it is what gets me. And for two days after that I wasted valuabletime tryin' to frame up just where in the gen'ral scheme of things aparty like Skeet Keyser could connect with real money. After that I gaveup the myst'ry and spent my spare minutes wonderin' if I could do this"One-two-three--hold!" business as successful in public as I could whilethem dancin' school fairies was drillin' it into my nut at one-fifty perthrow.
That's right, grin! But if you're billed to mingle in the merry throngat a dance fest, you ain't goin' to trot out on the floor with any suchantique act as last season's Boston dip, are you? Might as well springthe minuet. And specially when I'd had word that among others was to bea certain party. Uh-huh! You can play it both ways too that Vee would beup on the very latest, and if it was in me I meant to be right behindher.
Was I? Say, maybe if I wa'n't so blamed modest I could give you an ideaof how Vee and I just naturally--but I can't do it. Besides, there'sother matters; the grand jolt that come early in the evenin', forinstance. It was after the second number, and I'd made a dash into thegents' dressin' room to see if my white tie showed any symptoms ofridin' up in the back, and I'd just strolled out into the entrance hallagain, watchin' the push straggle in, when who should show up throughthe double doors but a tall, lanky young chap with lop ears and a noseone was bound to remember.
It's Skeet Keyser; Skeet in shiny, thin-soled pumps, a pleated dressshirt, black silk vest, and a top hat! He's bein' bowed in dignified bythe same butler, and is passed on to--well, it's a funny world, ain'tit? The maid on duty just inside the door happens to be Sister Maggie.She has the respectful bow all ready when she gets a full-face view.
"Aloysius!" says she, scared and husky.
I got to hand it to Skeet, though, that he bears up noble. All he doesis to try to swallow his throat apple a couple of times, and then hestares at her stern and distant. Also Maggie makes a quick recovery.
"Gentlemen this way, Sir," says she, and waves Skeet into the dressin'room.
I wanted to follow him up and tip him off that there's one or two otherreasons why this was the wrong house to put over any sporty bluff in;but as it was I'm overdue in another quarter. You see, Marjorie has beensittin' out on the side lines, as usual, and Vee has hinted how it wouldbe nice and charitable of me to brace her for a spiel. I'd sort of beenworkin' myself up to the
sacrifice, for you know Marjorie's some heftypartner for anybody not in trainin' to steer around a ballroom floor;but I'd figured out that the longer I put it off the worse it would be.So off I trails with my heels draggin' a little heavy.
"Why, thanks ever so much, Torchy," says she, "but I think I have apartner for the first four or five. After that, though----"
"Don't mention it," says I. "I mean, much obliged," and I backs offhasty before she can change her mind.
I had to kill time while Vee was dividin' a couple dances between twoyoung shrimps; so I sidles into a corner where Ferdie sits behind hisshell-rimmed glasses, lookin' bored and lonesome.
"Now don't you wish you'd gone and had your feet educated?" says I.
Ferdie yawns. "I think it quite sufficient," says he, "that one of usintends making an exhibition. Marjorie has been taking lessons, youknow."
"So I hear," says I. "And it's all right if she don't tackle the maxixe.Hello! There it goes. Now you will see some stunts!"
Yep, we did! And among the first couples to sail out on the floor, ifyou'll believe it, was none other than Marjorie and our lop-eared younghero, Skeet Keyser.
"Oh, Gosh!" I groans. "Don't look, Ferdie!"
I meant well too; It was goin' to be bad enough to see a corn-fed youngmatron the size of Marjorie, who can spin the arrow well up to thehundred and eighty mark, monkey with them twisty evolutions; but to haveher get let in for it with a roughneck ringer like Skeet--well, that wasgoin' to be a real tragedy. How he'd worked it, or what his excuse wasfor bein' here at all, was useless questions to ask then. What wascomin' next was the thing to watch for.
As for Ferdie, he just sits there and blinks, followin' 'em through hisspare panes. Course I could guess he wa'n't hep to any facts aboutSkeet. He was just a strange young gent to him, and it wa'n't up to meto add any details. So I settles back and watches 'em too.
And, say, you know how surprised you'd be to see any fat friend of yoursbuckle on a pair of ice skates and do the double grapevine up and downthe rink? Well, that's the identical kind of jar I got when Marjoriebegins that willowy bendy figure. It ain't any waddly caricature of it,either. It's the real thing. Honest, she's as light on her feet as ifher middle name was Pavlowa!
At the same time it's lucky Skeet has arms, long enough to reach 'wayround when he's steerin' her. If they'd been an inch or so shorter, he'dhave had to break his clinch in some of them whirls, and then there'dbeen a big dent in the floor. He seems just built for the job, though.In and out, round and round, through the Parisienne, the flirtation, andall the other frills, he pilots her safe, bendin' and swayin' to themusic, his number ten feet glidin' easy, and kind of a smirky, satisfiedlook on that sappy mug of his; while Marjorie, she simply lets herselfgo for all she's worth, her eyes sparklin', and the pink and white inher cheeks showin' clear and fresh.
Take it from me too, it's some swell exhibit! There was four or fiveother couples on at the same time, the girls all slender, wispy youngthings, that never split out a waist seam in their lives; but Marjorieand her partner had the gallery right with 'em. Two or three timesdurin' the dance they got scatterin' applause, and when the musicfin'lly stops, leavin' 'em alone in the middle of the floor, they got areg'lar big hand.
"I take it all back," says I to Ferdie. "That was real classy spielin'.Now wa'n't it?."
"No doubt," he grunts. "And I suppose I should be thankful that Marjoriedidn't try to jump through a paper hoop. I trust, however, that thisconcludes the performance."
It did not! Next on the card was a onestep, with Marjorie and herunknown goin' to it like professionals; and if they omitted any fancywaves, you couldn't prove it by me. By this time too, Ferdie was sittin'up and takin' notice. "Oh, I say," says he, "isn't that the same fellowshe danced with before?"
"You don't think a bunch of works like that could be twins, do you?"says I.
"But--but I'm sure I don't remember having met him, you know," saysFerdie, rubbin' his chin thoughtful.
"Then maybe you ain't," says I.
When they comes on for a third time, though, and prances through aboutas flossy a half-and-half as I've ever seen pulled at a private dance,Ferdie is some agitated in the mind. He ain't exactly green-eyed, buthe's some disturbed. Yes, all of that!
"I--I think I'd best speak to Marjorie," says he.
"You'll have plenty of competition," says I. "Look!"
For the young chappies are crowdin' around her two deep, makin' datesfor the next numbers. "Ferdie stares at the spectacle puzzled. He's apersistent messer, though.
"But really," he goes on, "I think I ought to meet that young fellow andfind out who he is."
"Ah, bottle it up until afterwards!" says I. "Don't rock the skiff."
But there's a streak of mule in Ferdie a foot wide. "People will beasking me who he is!" he insists, "and if I don't know, what will theythink? See, isn't that he, standing just over there?"
And then Mr. Robert has to drift along and complicate matters by joshin'brother-in-law a little. "Congratulations on your substitute, Ferdie,"says he. "Where did he come from?"
Which brings a ruddy tint into Ferdie's ears. "Ask Marjorie," says he."I'm sure he's an utter stranger to me."
"Wha-a-at?" says Mr. Robert, and when he's had the full situation mappedout for him blamed if he don't begin to take it serious too.
"To be sure, Ferdie," says he. "Everyone seems to think he must be aguest of yours; but as he isn't--well, it's quite time someonediscovered. Let's go over and introduce ourselves."
And somehow that didn't listen good to me, either. Marjorie's done a lotof nice turns for me, and this looked like it was my play to lend ahand.
"With two or three more," says I, "you could form a perfectly good mob,couldn't you?"
Mr. Robert whirls and demands sarcastic, "Well, what would you suggest,young man?"
"He's got all the earmarks of a reg'lar invited guest, ain't he?" saysI. "And unless you're achin' to start somethin', why not let me handlethis 'Who the blazes are you?' act?"
He sees the point too, Mr. Robert does. He shrugs his shoulders andgrins. "That's so," says he. "All right, Torchy. Full diplomatic powers,and if necessary I shall restrain Ferdie by the collar."
I wa'n't wastin' time on any subtle strategy, though. Walkin' over toSkeet I taps him on the shoulder, and then it's his turn to gawp at mycostume.
"Why," he gasps, "how--er--where did you----"
"Oh, I brought myself out last season," says I. "But just a minute, ifyou don't mind," and I jerks my thumb towards the dressin' room.
"But, you know," he begins, "I--I----"
"Ah, ditch the shifty stuff!" says I. "This is orders from headquarters.Come!"
And he trots right along. Once I gets him behind the draperies I shootsit at him straight. "Who'd you pinch the invite from?" says I.
"See here, now!" he comes back peevish. "You have no call to say that. Ihad a bid, all right; got it with me. There! What about that?" And heflashes a card on me.
It's one of Marjorie's!
"Huh!" says I. "Met her at Mrs. Astor's, I expect?"
Skeet shuffles his feet and tries to look indignant.
"Come on, give us the plot of the piece," says I, "or I'll call upSister Maggie and put her on the stand. Where was it, now?"
"If you must know," says Skeet sulky, "it was at Roselle's."
"The tango factory?" says I. "Oh, I'm beginnin' to get the thread. Theplace where she's been takin' lessons, eh?"
Skeet nods.
"Is this romance, or business, then?" says I.
"Think I'm a fathead?" says he. "I'm gettin' fifteen for this, and I'mearnin' the money too. It's a regular thing. Last night I was CousinHarry for an old maid from Washington--went to a swell house dance up onRiverside Drive. She came across with twenty for that, and paid for thetaxi."
"Well, well!" says I. "Then them long legs of yours has turned out agood asset after all. What you pullin' down, Skeet, on an average?"
"Twenty regu
lar, and a hundred or so on the side," says he, swellin' hischest out. "And, say, I guess I got it some on the rest of the family.You know how they used me,--like dirt, the old lady callin' me a loafer,and Annie so stuck up on livin' in an elevator apartment she wouldn'thave me around. Maggie too! Didn't I hand it to her, though? Notice mefrost her, eh? But I said I'd show 'em some day. Guess I've deliveredthe goods. Look at me now, all dolled up every night, and mixin' withthe best people! Say, you watch me! Why, I can go out there and pick anyqueen you want to name. They're crazy about me. I could show you mashnotes and photos too. Oh, I'm Winning Willie with the fluffs, I am!"
Well, it was worth listenin' to. He struts around waggin' his sillyhead, until I can hardly keep from throwin' a chair at him. Coursesomething had to be dealt out. He needed it bad. So I sizes him up rapidand makes the first play that comes into my head.
"You're a wonder, Skeet," says I. "And it's a great game as long as youcan get away with it. But whisper!" Here I glances around cautious. "Youknow I'm a friend of yours."
"Oh, sure," says he careless. "What then?"
"Only this," says I. "Here's once when I'm afraid you're about to pulldown trouble."
"How's that?" says he, twistin' his neck uneasy.
"Notice the two gents I was just talkin' with," I goes on, "speciallythe savage-lookin' one with the framed lamps? Well, that was Hubby.He's got one of these hair-trigger dispositions too."
"Pooh!" says Skeet. But he's listenin' close.
"I'm only tellin' you," says I. "Then the big one with the wideshoulders--that's Brother. Reg'lar brute, he is, and a temper----"
That gets him stary eyed. "You--you don't mean," says he, "that----"
"Uh-huh!" says I. "You know you and the young lady was some conspicuous.There's been talk all round the room. They've both heard, and they'rebeefin' something awful. Course I ain't sayin' they'll spring anygunplay right in the house; but--why, what's wrong, Skeet?"
Honest, he's gone putty faced and panicky. He begins pawin' around forhis overcoat.
"Ain't goin' so soon, are you," says I, "without breakin' a few morehearts?"
"I--I'm goin' to get out of here!" says he, his teeth chattery. He'dgrabbed his silk lid and was makin' a dash for the front door when Istopped him.
"Not that way, for the love of soup!" says I. "They'll be layin' for youthere. Why not bluff it out and cut up with some of the other queens?"
"I'm not feeling well," says he. "I--I'm going, I tell you!"
"If you insist, then," says I, "perhaps I can sneak you out. Here, thisway. Now slide in behind that portiere until I find one of the maids.Oh, here's one now. S-s-s-t! That you, Maggie? Well, smuggle Mr. Keyserout the back way, will you? And if you don't want to witness bloodshed,do it quick!"
I tipped her the wink over his shoulder, and the last glimpse I had ofSkeet he was bein' hustled and shoved towards the back way by willin'hands.
By the time I gets back into the ballroom I finds Marjorie right in themidst of a fam'ly court martial. She's makin' a full confession.
"Of course I hired him," she's sayin' to Brother Robert. "Why? BecauseI've been a wall flower at too many dances, and I'm tired of it. No, Idon't know who he is, I'm sure; but he's a perfectly lovely dancer. Iwonder where he's disappeared to?"
Which seemed to be my cue to report. "Mr. Keyser presents hiscompliments," says I, "and begs to be excused for the rest of theevenin' on account of feelin' suddenly indisposed. He says you can sendhim that fifteen by mail, if you like."
"Well, the idea!" gasps Marjorie.
As for Mr. Robert, he chuckles. Takin' me one side, he asksconfidential, "What did you use on our young friend, persuasion, orassault with intent?"
"On a fish-face like that?" says I. "Nope. This was just a simple caseof spill."