Vee proves that she"s good-natured again by runnin" her tongue out at me.

"We did not, Smarty," says she. "But we pa.s.sed a resolution condemning such extortion severely."

"How rough of you!" says I. "Anything else?"

"Yes," says Vee. "We appointed a committee to tell him he"d better stop."

"Fine!" says I. "I expect he"ll have everything marked down about forty per cent. by to-morrow night."

Somehow, it didn"t work out just that way. Next report I got from Vee was that the committee had interviewed Belcher, but there was nothing doin". He"d been awfully nice to "em, even if he had talked through his cigar part of the time.

Belcher says he feels just as bad as they about havin" to soak on such stiff prices. But how can he help it? The cold-storage people are boostin" their schedules every day. They ain"t to blame, either. They"re bein" held up by the farmers out West who are havin" their hair cut too often. Besides, all the hens in the country have quit layin" and joined the I. W. W., and every kind of meat is scarce on account of Pershing"s men developin" such big appet.i.tes. He"s sorry, but he"s doin" his best, considerin" the war and everything. If people would only get the habit of usin" corn meal for their pie crusts, everything would be lovely once more.

"An alibi on every count," says I. "I expect the committee apologized."

"Very nearly that," says Vee. "The sillies! I just wish I"d been there.

I don"t believe half of what he said is true."

"That"s one thing," says I, "but provin" it on him would be another. And there"s where Belcher"s got you."

Course, I like to watch Vee in action, for she sure is a humdinger when she gets started. As a rule, too, I don"t believe in tryin" to block her off in any of her little enterprises.

But here was once where it seemed to me she was up against a hopeless proposition. So I goes on to point out, sort of gentle and soothin", how war prices couldn"t be helped, any more"n you could stop the tide from comin" in.

Oh, I"m some smooth suggester, I am, when you get into fireside diplomacy. Anyway, the price of eggs wasn"t mentioned again that evenin". As a matter of fact, Vee ain"t troubled much with marketin"

details, for Madame Battou, wife of the little old Frenchman who does the cheffing for us so artistic, attends to layin" in the supplies. And, believe me, when she sails forth with her market basket you can be sure she"s goin" to get sixteen ounces to the pound and the rock bottom price on everything. No "phone orders for her. I don"t believe Vee knew what the inside of Belcher"s store looks like. I"m sure I didn"t.

So I thought the big drive on the roast beef and canned goods sector had been called off. About that time, too, I got another inspection detail handed me,--and I didn"t see my happy home until another week-end.

I lands back on Broadway at 9 A.M. Havin" reported at the Corrugated general offices and found Old Hickory out of town, I declares a special holiday and beats it out to the part of Long Island I"m beginnin" to know best. Struck me Professor Battou held his face kind of funny when he saw me blow in; and as I asks for Vee, him and the madam swaps glances. He say she"s out.

"Oh," says I. "Mornin" call up at the Ellinses", eh? I"ll stroll up that way, myself, then."

Leon hesitates a minute, like he was chokin" over something, and then remarks: "But no, M"sieur. Madame, I think, is in the village."

"Why," says I, "I just came from the station. I didn"t see the car around. How long has she been gone?"

Another exchange of looks, and then Battou answers:

"She goes at seven."

"Whaddye mean goes?" says I. "It ain"t a habit of hers, is it?"

Leon nods.

"All this week," says he. "She goes to the meat and grocery establishment, I understand."

"Belcher"s?" says I. "But what--what"s the idea?"

"I think it would be best if M"sieur asked Madame," says he.

"That"s right, too," says I.

You can guess I was some puzzled. Was Vee doin" the spy act on Belcher, watchin" him open the store and spendin" the forenoon concealed in a crockery crate or something? No, that didn"t sound reasonable. But what the---- Meanwhile I was leggin" it down towards the village.

It"s a busy place, Belcher"s, specially on Sat.u.r.day forenoon. Out front three or four delivery trucks was bein" loaded up, and inside a lot of clerks was jumpin" round. Among the customers was two j.a.p butlers, three or four Swedish maids, and some of the women from the village. But no Vee anywhere in sight.

Loomin" prominent in the midst of all this active tradin" is Belcher himself, a thick-necked, ruddy-cheeked party, with bristly black hair cut shoe-brush style and growing down to a point in front. His big, bulgy eyes are cold and fishy, but they seem to take in everything that"s goin" on. I hadn"t been standin" around more"n half a minute before he snaps his finger, and a clerk comes hustlin" over to ask what I"ll have.

"Box of ginger-snaps," says I offhand; and a minute later I"m bein"

shunted towards a wire-cage with a cash slip in my hand.

I"d dug up a quarter, and was waitin" for the change to be pa.s.sed out through the little window, when I hears a familiar snicker. Then I glances in to see who"s presidin" at the cash register. And say, of all the sudden jolts I ever got! It"s Vee.

"Well, for the love of soup!" I gasps.

"Twelve out--thirteen. That"s right, isn"t it? Thank you so much, sir,"

says she, her gray eyes twinklin".

"Quit the kiddin"," says I, "and sketch out the plot of the piece."

"Can"t now," says Vee. "So run along. Please!"

"But how long does this act of yours last?" I insists.

"Until about noon, I think," says she. "It"s such fun. You can"t imagine."

"What"s it for, though?" says I. "Are you pullin" a sleuth stunt on----"

"S-s-s-sh!" warns Vee. "He"s coming. Pretend to be getting a bill changed or something."

It"s while I"m fishin" out a ten that this little dialogue at the meat counter begins to get conspicuous: A thin, stoop-shouldered female with gray streaks in her hair is puttin" up a howl at the price of corned beef. She"d asked for the cheapest piece they had, and it had been weighed for her, but still she wasn"t satisfied.

"It wasn"t as high last Sat.u.r.day," she objects.

"No, ma"am," says the clerk. "It"s gone up since."

"Worse luck," says she, pokin" the piece with her finger. "And this is nearly all bone and fat. Now couldn"t you----"

"I"ll ask the boss, ma"am," says the clerk. "Here he is."

Belcher has come over and is listenin", glarin" hostile at the woman.

"It"s Mrs. Burke, the one whose sons are in the army," whispers Vee.

"Well?" demands Belcher.

"It"s so much to pay for meat like that," says Mrs. Burke. "If you could----"