Author: Sewell Ford
Category: Humorous
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CHAPTER X
THEN ALONG CAME SUKEY
It looked like it was Kick-in Day, or something like that; for here wasNutt Hamilton, a sporty young plute friend of Mr. Robert's, that I'mtryin' to entertain, camped in the private office, when fair-hairedVincent comes in off the brass gate to report respectful this newarrival.
"A gentleman to see Mr. Robert, Sir," says he.
"Well, he's still out," says I.
"So I told him, Sir," says Vincent; "but then he asks if Mr. Ferdinandisn't here. I didn't know, Sir. Is there a----"
"Sure, Vincent, sure!" says I. "Brother-in-law Ferdie, you know. What'sthe gentleman's real name?"
"Mr. Blair Hiscock," says Vincent, readin' the card.
"Ever hear that one?" I asks Hamilton, and he says he ain't. "Must besome fam'ly friend, though," I goes on. "We'll take a chance, Vincent.Tell Blair to breeze in."
I might have had bean enough to have looked for another pair ofshell-rimmed glasses too. That's what shows up. Only this party, insteadof beamin' mild and foolish through 'em, same as Ferdie does, staresthrough his sort of peevish. He's a pale-haired, sharp-faced, undersizedyoung gent too, and dressed sort of finicky in one of them Ballyhoolycape coats, an artist necktie, and a two-story soft hat with a stripedscarf wound around it.
"Well?" says I, leanin' back in the swing chair and doin' my best tospring the genial smile.
"Isn't Ferdinand here, then?" he demands, glancin' about impatient.
"Good guess," says I. "He ain't. Drifts in about once a month, though,as a rule, and as it's been three weeks or so since he was here last,maybe you'd like to----"
"How absurd!" snaps Blair. "But he was to meet me here to-day at thistime."
"Was, eh?" says I. "Well, if you know Ferdie, you can gamble that he'llbe an hour or two behind, if he gets here at all."
"Thanks," says Blair, real crisp. "You needn't bother. I fancy I knowFerdie quite as well as you do."
"Oh, I wa'n't boastin'," says I, "and you don't bother me a bit. If youthink Ferdie's liable to remember, you're welcome to stick around aslong as----"
"I'll wait half an hour, anyway," he breaks in.
"Then you might as well meet Mr. Hamilton," says I. "Friend of Mr.Robert's--Marjorie's too, I expect."
The two of 'em nods casual, and then I notices Nutt take a closer look.A second later a humorous quirk flickers across his wide face.
"Well, well!" says he. "It's Sukey, isn't it?"
At which Mr. Hiscock winces like he'd been jabbed with a pin. He flushesup too, and his thin-lipped, narrow mouth takes on a pout.
"I don't care to be called that," he snaps back.
"Eh?" says Nutt. "Sorry, old man; but you know, up at the camp summerbefore last--why, everyone called you Sukey."
"A lot of bounders they were too!" flares out Blair. "I--I'd asked themnot to. And I'll not stand it! So there!"
"Oh!" says Hamilton, grinnin' tantalizin'. "My error. I take back theSukey, _Mr._ Hiscock."
There's some contrast between the pair as they faces each other,--youngHiscock all bristled up bantam like and glarin' through his studentpanes; while Nutt Hamilton, who'd make three of him, tilts back easy inthe heavy office armchair until he makes it creak, and just chuckles.
He's a chronic josher, Nutt is,--always puttin' up some deep andelaborate game on Mr. Robert, or relatin' by the hour the horse-playstunts he's pulled on others. A bit heavy, his sense of humor is, Ijudge. His idea of a perfectly good joke is to call up a bald-headedwaiter at the club and crack a soft-boiled egg on his White Way, orbalance a water cooler on top of a door so that the first party to walkunder gets soaked by it,--playful little stunts like that. And betweentimes, when he ain't makin' merry around town, he's off on huntin'trips, killin' things with portable siege guns. You know the kind,maybe.
So we ain't the chummiest trio that could be got together. Blair makesit plain that he has mighty little use for me, and still less forHamilton. But Nutt seems to get a lot of satisfaction in keepin' himstirred up, winkin' now and then at me when he gets a rise out of Blair;though I must say, so far as repartee went, the little chap had all thebest of it.
"Let's see," says Nutt, "what is your specialty? You do something orother, don't you?"
"Yes," says Blair. "Do you?"
"Oh, come!" says Nutt. "You play the violin, don't you?"
"How clever of you to remember!" says Blair. "Sorry I can'treciprocate." And he turns his back.
But you can't squelch Hamilton that way. "Me?" says he. "Oh, potting biggame is my fad. I got three caribou last fall, you know, and this springI'm--say, Sukey,--I beg your pardon, Hiscock,--but you ought to comealong with us. Do you good. Put some meat on your bones. We're going'way up into Montana after black bear and silver-tips. I'd like to seeyou facing a nine-hundred-pound she bear with----"
"Would you?" cuts in Blair. "You know very well I'd be frightened halfto death."
"Oh, well," says Nutt, "we'd stack you up against a cinnamon cub."
"Any kind of bear I should be afraid of," says Sukey.
"Not really!" says Hamilton. "Why, say----"
"Please!" protests Blair. "I don't care to talk about such creatures.I'm afraid of them even when I see them caged. I've an instinctive dreadof all big beasts. Smile, if you like. But all truly civilized personsfeel the same. I'm not a cave man, you know. Besides, I prefer tellingthe truth about such things to making believe I'm not afraid, as a lotof would-be mighty hunters do."
"Not meaning me, I hope?" asks Nutt.
"If you're innocent, don't dodge," says Blair. "And I--I think I'll notwait for Ferdinand any longer. Tell him I was here, will you?" And witha nod to me he does a snappy exit.
"A constant joy, Sukey is," remarks Hamilton. "Why, when we were up inthe Adirondacks that summer, we used to----"
What they used to do to Sukey I'll never know; for just then Mr. Robertsails in, and Nutt breaks off the account. He'd spieled along for halfan hour in his usual vein when Mr. Robert flags him long enough to callme over.
"By the way, Torchy," says Mr. Robert, "before I forget it----" and hehands me one of Marjorie's cards with a date and "Music" written in thesouthwest corner. I gazes at it puzzled.
"I strongly suspect," he goes on, "that a certain young lady may beamong those present."
"Oh!" says I, pinkin' up some, I expect. "Much obliged. In that case I'mstrong for music. Some swell piano performer, eh?"
"A young violinist," says Mr. Robert, "a friend of Ferdie's, I believe,who----"
"Bet a million it's Sukey!" breaks in Nutt. "Blair Hiscock, isn't it!"
"That is his name," admits Mr. Robert. "But this is to be nothingformal, you know: only Marjorie is bringing him down to the house, andhas asked in a few people."
"By George!" says Nutt, slappin' his knee enthusiastic. "Couldn't youget me in on that affair, Bob?"
"Why--er--I might," says Mr. Robert. "I didn't know, though, that youwere passionately fond of violin music. It's to be rather a classicalprogramme, and----"
"Classic be blowed!" says Nutt. "What I want is a fair whack at Sukey.Seen him, haven't you?"
Mr. Robert shakes his head.
"Well, wait until you do," says Hamilton. "Say, he's a rare treat,Sukey. About as big as a fox terrier, and just as snappy. Oh, you'lllove Sukey! If he doesn't hand you something peppery before you've knownhim ten minutes, then I'm mistaken. Know what he used to call yoursister Marjorie, summer before last? Baby Dimple! After a golf ball, youknow. That's a sample of Sukey's tongue."
Mr. Robert shrugs his shoulders. "Quite her own affair, I suppose," sayshe.
"Oh, she didn't mind," says Nutt. "Everyone stands for Sukey--on accountof his music. Only he is such a conceited, snobbish little whelp thatit makes you ache to cuff him. Couldn't, of course. Why, he'll beginsniveling if you look cross at him! But it would be great sport to----Say, Bob, who's going to be there--anyone special?"
"Only the family," says Mr. Robert, "and a few of Marjorie's f
riends,such as Verona Hemmingway and--er--Torchy here, and Josephine Billings,who's just come for the week-end."
"What!" says Hamilton. "Joey Billings? Say, she's a good sort, Joey;bully fun, and always in for anything. You ought to see her shoot! Yes,Sir! Bring down quail with a choke-bore, or knock over a buck deer witha rifle. Plays billiards like a wizard, Joey does, and can swat a golfball off the tee for two hundred yards. She's a star. Staying atFerdie's, eh? Must be a great combination, she and Sukey. I'd like tosee 'em together. Say, old man, let me in on this musicfest if you can,will you?"
Course there wa'n't much left for Mr. Robert to do but promise, andwhile he don't do it with any great enthusiasm, Mr. Hamilton don't seema bit discouraged. In fact, just before he goes he has a chucklin' fitlike he'd been struck by some amazin' comic thought.
"I have it, Bob!" says he, poundin' Mr. Robert on the back. "I haveit!"
"Anything you're likely to recover from?" remarks Mr. Robert.
"Never mind," says Nutt. "You wait and see! And the first chance you getask Sukey if he's afraid of bears."
Just to finish off the afternoon too, and make the Corrugated gen'raloffices seem more like a fam'ly meetin' place, about four o'clock inblows Sister Marjorie from the shoppin' district, trailin' a friend withher; a stranger too. First off, from a hasty glimpse at the hard-boiledlid and the man's collar and the loose-fittin' top coat, I thought itwas some chappy. So it's more or less of a shock when I discovers theshort skirt and the high walkin' boots below. Then I tumbled. It's Joey,the real sport!
Believe me, she looked the part! One of these female good fellows, youknow, ready to roll her own dope sticks, or sit in with the boys anddraw three to a pair. Built substantial and heavy, Joey was, but notlumpy, like Marjorie. She swings in swaggery, gives Mr. Robert thecollege hick greetin', and when I'm introduced to her treats me to agrip that I felt the tingle of for half an hour.
"Hello, Kid!" says she. "I've heard of you. Torchy, eh? Well, the name'sa fine fit."
"Yes," says I, "I was baptized with my hat off."
"Ripping!" says she. "I like that. Torchy! Couldn't be better."
"Not so poetic as Crimson Rambler," says I, "but easier to remember."
Hearty chuckles from Joey. "You're all right, Torchy," says she,rumplin' my hair playful.
Not at all hard to get acquainted with, Joey. One of the free and easykind that gets to call men by their front names durin' the firsthalf-hour. But somehow them's the ones that always seem to hang longeston the branch. You've noticed? Take Joey now,--well along towardsthirty, so I finds out later, but still untagged and unchosen. Maybe shelikes it better that way. Who knows? And, as Nutt Hamilton hassuggested, it would be int'restin' to see her and Sukey lined uptogether.
That ain't exactly why I'm so early showin' up at the Ellins' house thenight of the musical--not altogether. But what Vee and I has to say toone another durin' the half-hour we managed to slip over on Aunty don'tmatter. Vee was supposed to be arrangin' some flowers in the drawin'room, and I--well, I was helpin'. My long suit, arrangin' flowers; thatis, when the planets are right.
But it goes quick. Pretty soon others begun buttin' in, and byeight-thirty there was a roomful, includin' Vee's Aunty, who watches meas severe as if I was a New Haven director. Joey Billings floats in too.And I got to admit that in an evenin' gown she ain't such a worselooker. Course her jaw outline is a trifle strong, and she has quite aswing to her hips; but she's so good-natured and cheerful lookin' thatyou 'most forget them trifles.
And Blair Hiscock, in his John Drew regalia, looks even thinner andwhiter than ever; but he struts around as perky and important as if hewas Big Bill Edwards. First off he has to have the piano turned theother way. Then, when he goes to unlimber his music rack, it developsthat a big vase of American Beauties is too near his elbow. He glares at'em pettish.
"Can't those things be taken out?" says he. "I detest heavy odors whileI'm playin'!"
So the flowers are carted off. Then some draperies just back of him mustbe pulled together, so he won't feel a draught. After that he has theusual battle with his violin strings, while the audience waits patient,only exchangin' a smile now and then when Blair shows his dispositionstrongest.
At last, though, after makin' the accompanist take two fresh starts,he's off. Some goulash rhapsody, I believe it was, by a guy whose namesounds like a sneezin' fit. But, take it from me, that sharp-facedlittle wisp could do things to a violin! Zowie! He could just naturallymake it sing, with weeps and laughs, and moans and giggles, and groansand cusswords, all strung along a jumpy, jerky little air that sort ofplayed hide and seek with itself. Music? I should quiver! He had us allsittin' up with our ears stretched, and when he finishes and theapplause starts in like a sudden shower on a tin roof what does he dobut turn away with a bored look and shoot some spicy remark at the younglady pianist!
Next he gives a lullaby kind of thing, that's as sweet and touchin' asanything Farrar or Gluck could put over. He's just windin' that up andwe're gettin' ready with more handclaps, when----
"Woof! Woof-woof!"
Some of the ladies gasps panicky. I got a little start myself, before Itumbled to what it was; for in through the draperies behind Sukey hasshuffled about as good an imitation of a black bear as you'd want tosee; a big, bulky bear, all complete, even to the dishpan paws and thewicked little eyes. It's scuffin' along on all-fours, waddlin' lifelikefrom side to side and lettin' out that deep, grumbly "Woof! Woof!"remark.
Blair is so deep in his music that he don't hear it for a minute. Thenhe must have caught on from the folks in front that something was up.He stops, glarin' indignant through his big glasses. Then he turns.
It wa'n't exactly a scream he lets out, nor a moan. It's the sort of aweird, muffled noise you'll sometimes make in your sleep, after a latewelsh rabbit. I didn't think he could turn any whiter; but he does. Hisface has about as much color left in it as a marshmallow.
Then the thing on the floor rears up on its hind legs until it topsBlair by two feet, and there comes another of them deep "Woofs!"
I was lookin' for him to pass away complete; but he don't. He sets hisjaw, tosses his violin on a chair, grabs the music rack, and swings itover his shoulder defiant.
"Come on, you brute!" he breathes husky. "I don't know what you are;but----"
Just what happens next, though, is a cry of "Shame, shame!" Someonedashes from the back row of chairs, and we sees Joey Billings makin' aclutch at the bear's head. It came off too, with a rip of snap hooks,and reveals Nutt Hamilton's big moon face with a wide grin on it.
"You, eh?" says Joey. "I thought as much. Your old masquerade trick! Andanyone else would have had better sense. Don't you think you're beastenough without----"
"Stop!" breaks in Blair, his lips blue and trembly and the tearsbeginnin' to trickle down his nose. "You--you've no right to interfere.I--I was going to smash him. I'll kill the big brute! I--I'll----"
Once more Joey does the right thing; for Blair is blubberin' hystericaland the scene is gettin' worse. So she just tucks him under one arm,claps a hand over his mouth, and lugs him kickin' and strugglin' intothe lib'ry, givin' Nutt a shove to one side as she brushes by.
You can guess too there was some panicky doin's in the Ellins's drawin'room for the next few minutes; Mr. Robert and Marjorie and others tryin'to tell Hamilton what they thought of him, all at the same time. AndNutt was takin' it sheepish.
"Oh, I say!" he protests. "I was only trying to have a bit of fun withthe little runt, you know. I only meant to----"
"Fun!" breaks in Mr. Robert savage. "This is neither a backwoods barroomnor a hunting camp, and I want to assure you right now, Hamilton,that----"
But in comes young Blair again. He's had the tear stains swabbed off,and he's got some of his color back; but he's still wabbly in the knees.He pushes right to the front, though.
"I suppose you all think me a great baby," says he, "to get sofrightened and to cry over such a silly trick. Perhaps I am a baby. Atleas
t I haven't control of my nerves. Would you, though, if you hadbeen an invalid for fifteen years? Well, I have. And a good part of thattime, you know, I spent in hospitals and sanatoriums, and travelingaround with trained nurses and three or four relatives to wait on me andhumor my whims. Even when I was studying music abroad it was that way.And I suppose I'm not really strong now. So I couldn't help beingafraid. But I don't want your sympathy. You need not scold Hamilton anymore, either. He can't help being a big bully any more than I can helpacting like a baby. He doesn't know any better--never will. All beef andno brains! And at that I don't care to change places with him. Some dayI shall be well and fairly strong. He'll never have any better sense ormanners than he has now. And I prefer to fight my own battles. So let itdrop, please."
Well, they did. But for the first time, I expect, a few cuttin' remarksgot through Nutt Hamilton's thick hide. He shuffles out of his bear skinand sneaks off with his head down.
He'd hardly gone when Vee slips up beside me and touches me on the arm."We can't do anything with her," she whispers mysterious. "Don't say aword, but come."
"Can't do anything with who?" says I.
"Joey," says she. "She's in the library, and we can't find out what isthe matter."
"Wha-a-at! Joey?" says I.
It's a fact, though. I finds Joey slumped on a couch with her shouldersheavin'. She's doin' the sob act genuine and earnest.
"Well, well!" says I. "Why the big weeps?"
She looks up and sees who it is. "Torchy!" says she between sobs."Dud-don't tell him. Please!"
"Tell who?" says I.
"B-b-b-blair," says she. "I--wouldn't have him know for--for anything.But he--he--what he said hurt. He--he called me a meddlesome old maid.It was something I had to do too. I--I thought he'd understand. I--Ithought he knew I--I liked him!"
"Eh?" says I gaspy.
"I've never cared so much before--about what the others thought," shegoes on. "I'm just Joey to them, out for a good time. I'll always beJoey, I suppose, to most of them. But I--I thought Blair was different,you know. I--I----"
And the sobs get the best of the argument. I glances over at Veepuzzled, and Vee shrugs her shoulders. We drifts back as far as thedoor.
"Poor Joey!" says Vee.
"Is it straight," says I, "about her and Blair?"
Vee nods. "Only he doesn't know," says she.
"Then it's time he did," says I.
"There!" says Vee, givin' me a grateful look that tingles clear down tomy toes. "I just knew you could help. But how can----"
"Watch!" says I.
I finds him packin' his precious violin and preparin' to beat it.
"See here, Hiscock," says I. "Maybe you think you're the only one whosefeelin's have been hurt this evenin'."
He stares at me grouchy.
"Ah, ditch the assault and battery!" says I. "It ain't me. But there'ssomeone in the lib'ry you could soothe with a word or two maybe. Why notgo in and see her?"
"Her?" says he, starin' pop-eyed. "You--you don't mean Miss Billings?"
"Sure!" says I. "Joey, it's you she wants, and if I was you I'd----" Buthe's off on the run, with a queer, eager look on his face. I don'texpect there's been so many who've wanted Sukey.
But the worst of it was I had to go without hearin' how it all come out.Mr. Robert didn't have much to report next mornin', either. "Oh, we leftthem in the library, still talking," says he.
It's near a week later too that I gets anything more definite. Then Iwas up to the Ellins's on an errand when I discovers Blair waitin' inthe front room. He greets me real cordial and friendly, which is quitea jar. A minute later down the stairs floats Marjorie and her friendMiss Billings.
"Oh, there you are, Joey!" says Blair, rushin' out and grabbin' her bythe arm impetuous. "Come along. I'm going to take you both to dinner andthen to the opera. Come!"
"Isn't he brutal?" laughs Joey, pattin' him folksy on the cheek.
So I take it there's been something doin' in the solitaire and wilt-thouline. Some cross-mated pair they'll make; but I ain't so sure it won'tbe a good match.
Anyway, when he gets her as a side partner, Sukey needn't do any moreworryin' about bears.