On With Torchy Part 7

No, it wa'n't quite on that line. She was only one of Boothbay's fairest daughters by adoption, havin' drifted in from some mill town--Biddeford, I think it was--where a weaver's strike had thrown her out of a job. She was half Irish and half French-Canadian, and, accordin' to Ira's description, she was some ornamental.

Anyway, she had the boys all goin' in no time at all. Ira was mealin'

at the Mansion House just then, though; so he was in on the ground floor from the start. Even at that, how he managed to keep the rail with so much compet.i.tion is more'n I can say; but there's something sort of clean and wholesome lookin' about him, and I expect them calm, sea-blue eyes helped along. Anyway, him and Nellie kept comp'ny there, I take it, for three or four months quite steady, and Ira admits that he was plumb gone on her.

"Well, what was the hitch?" says I. "Wouldn't she be Mrs. Higgins?"

"Guess she would if I had asked her," says he; "but I didn't get around to it quick enough. Fact is, I'd just bought out the boat shop, and I had fifteen or twenty men to work for me, with four new keels laid down at once, and--well, I was mighty rushed with work just then and----"

"I get you," says I. "While you was makin' up your mind what to say, some wholesale drug drummer with a black mustache won her away."

It's more complicated than that, though. One of the chambermaids had a cousin who was a.s.sistant property man with a Klaw & Erlanger comp'ny, and he'd sent on the tip how some enterprisin' manager was lookin' for fifty new faces for a Broadway production; and so, if Cousin Maggie wanted to shake the hotel business, here was her chance. Maggie wanted to, all right; but she lacked the nerve to try it alone. Now, if Nellie would only go along too--why----

And it happens this was one night when Ira had overlooked a date he had with Nellie, and that while he was doin' overtime at the boatworks Nellie was waitin' lonesome on the corner all dressed to go over to South Bristol to a dance. So this bulletin from the great city finds her in a state of mind.

"Course," says Maggie, "you got a feller, and all that."

"Humph!" says Nellie.

"And there's no tellin'," Maggie goes on, glancin' at her critical, "if your figure would suit."

"If they can stand for yours," says Nellie, "I guess I'll take a chance too. Come on. We'll take the early morning boat."

And they did. Ira didn't get the details until about a month later, when who should drift back to the Mansion House but Maggie. Along with two or three hundred other brunettes and imitation blondes, she'd been shuffled into the discard. But Nellie had been signed up first rattle out of the box, and accordin' to the one postcard that had come back from her since she was now flaggin' as Maizie Latour. But no word at all had come to Ira.

"If I'd only bought that ring sooner!" he sighs. "I've got it now, though. Bought it in Portland on my way down. See?" and he snaps open a white satin box, disclosin' a cute little pearl set in a circle of chip diamonds.

"That's real dainty and cla.s.sy," says I.

"Ought to be," says Ira. "It cost me seventeen-fifty. But there's so blamed much to this place that I don't see just how I'm goin' to find her, after all."

"Ah, cheer up, Ira!" says I. "You've got me int'rested, you have, and, while I ain't any theatrical directory, I expect I could think up some way to---- Why, sure! There's a Tyson stand up here a few blocks, where they have all the casts and programmes. Let's go have a look."

It wa'n't a long hunt, either. The third one we looked at was "Whoops, Angelina!" and halfway down the list of characters we finds this item: "Sunflower Girls--Tessie Trelawney, Mae Collins, Maizie Latour----"

"Here we are!" says I. "And there's just time to get in for the first curtain."

Say, I expect you've seen this "Whoops, Angelina!" thing. Just punk enough to run a year on Broadway, ain't if? And do you remember there along towards the end of the first spasm where they ring in that "Field Flowers Fair" song, with a deep stage and a diff'rent chorus for each verse? Well, as the Sunflowers come on, did you notice special the second one from the right end? That's Maizie.

And, believe me, she's some queen! Course, it's a bunch of swell lookers all around, or they wouldn't be havin' the S.R.O. sign out so often; but got up the way she was, with all them yellow petals makin' a sort of frame for her, and them big dark eyes rollin' bold and sa.s.sy, this ex-table girl from the Mansion House stands out some prominent.

"By gorry!" explodes Ira, as he gets his first glimpse. And from then on he sits with his eyes glued on her as long as she's on the stage.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "By gorry!" explodes Ira, as he gets his first glimpse.]

He had a good view too; for comin' late all I could get was upper box seats at three a throw, and I shoves Ira close up to the rail. That one remark is all he has to unload durin' the whole performance, and somehow I didn't have the heart to break in with any comments. You see, I wa'n't sure how he might be takin' it; so I waits until the final curtain, and then nudges him out of his dream.

"Well, how about it?" says I. "Ready to scratch your entry now, are you?"

"Eh?" says he, rousin' up. "Pull out? No, Sir! I--I'm going to give her a chance to take that ring."

"You are?" says I. "Well, well! Right there with the pep, ain't you?

But how you goin' to manage it?"

"Why, I--I don't know," says he, lookin' blank. "Say, Son, can't you fix it for me some way? I--I want Nellie to go back with me. If I could only see her for a minute, and explain how it was I couldn't----"

"You win, Ira!" says I. "Hanged if there ain't Tucky Moller down there in an usher's uniform. He's an old friend of mine. We'll see what he can do."

Tucky was willin' enough too; but the best he can promise is to smuggle a note into the dressin' rooms. We waits in the lobby for the answer, and inside of five minutes we has it.

"Ain't they the limit, these spotlight chasers?" says Tucky. "She tells me to chuck it in the basket with the others, and says she'll read it to-morrow. Huh! And only a quarter tip after the second act when I lugs her in a bid to a cabaret supper!"

"Tonight?" says I. "Where at, Tucky?"

"Looey's," says he, "with a broker guy that's been buyin' B-10 every night for a week."

But when I leads Ira outside and tries to explain how the case stands, and breaks it to him gentle that his stock has taken a sudden slump, it develops that he's one of these gents who don't know when they're crossed off.

"I've got to see her tonight, that's all," says he. "What's the matter with our going to the same place?"

"For one thing," says I, "they wouldn't let us in without our open-faced clothes on. Got yours with you?"

"Full evenin' dress?" says Ira, with his eyes bugged. "Why, I never had any."

"Then it's by-by, Maizie," says I.

"Dog-goned if it is!" says he. "Guess I can wait around outside, can't I?"

"Well, you have got sportin' blood, Ira," says I. "Sure, there's nothin' to stop your waitin' if you don't block the traffic. But maybe it'll be an hour or more."

"I don't care," says he. "And--and let's go and have a gla.s.s of soda first."

Course, I couldn't go away and leave things all up in the air like that; so after Ira'd blown himself we wanders up to the cabaret joint and I helps him stick around.

It's some lively scene in front of Looey's at that time of night too; with all the taxis comin' and goin' and the kalsomined complexions driftin' in and out, and the head waiters coppin' out the five-spots dexterous. And every little while there's something extra doin'; like a couple of college hicks bein' led out by the strong-arm squad for disputin' a bill, or a perfect gent all ablaze havin' a debate with his lady-love, or a bunch of out-of-town buyers discoverin' the evenin'

dress rule for the first time and gettin' peeved over it.

But nothin' can drag Ira's gaze from that revolvin' exit door for more'n half a minute. There he stands, watchin' eager every couple that comes out; not excited or fidgety, you understand, but calm and in dead earnest. It got to be midnight, then half past, then quarter to one; and then all of a sudden there comes a ripplin', high-pitched laugh, and out trips a giddy-dressed fairy in a gilt and rhinestone turban effect with a tall plume stickin' straight up from the front of it. She's one of these big, full-curved, golden brunettes, with long jet danglers in her ears and all the haughty airs of a grand opera star. I didn't dream it was the one we was lookin' for until I sees Ira straighten up and step out to meet her.

"Nellie," says he, sort of choky and pleadin'.

It's a misfire, though; for just then she's turned to finish some remark to a fat old sport with flat ears and bags under his eyes that's followin' close behind. So it ain't until she's within a few feet of Higgins that she sees him at all. Then she stares at him sort of doubtful, like she could hardly believe her eyes.

"Nellie," he begins again, "I've been wanting to tell you how it was that----"

"You!" she breaks in. And with that she throws her head back and laughs. It wa'n't what you might call a pleasant laugh, either. It sounds cold and hard and bitter.

That's the extent of the reunion too. She's still laughin' as she brushes by him and lets the old sport help her into the taxi; and a second later we're left standin' there at the edge of the curb with another taxi rollin' up in front of us. I notices that Ira's holdin'

something in his hand that he's starin' at foolish. It's the satin box with the seventeen-fifty ring in it.